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Yesterday, my little baby girl had one candle on her birthday cupcake.

What an awesome weekend it was! On Friday evening, friends came over and helped bake cupcakes while I was making and baking other goodies. My ‘babaliefie’ was enjoying the pre-party festivities thoroughly and stayed up till 1 am.

I invited friends over on Saturday and family on Sunday. We spent both days ‘kuier’-ing from about 11 am till about 6 pm. ‘Babaliefie’ loved all the attention as she went from lap to lap. She was such a happy, pretty little fairy. Luckily the daymother came by on Saturday at 4 pm. ‘Babaliefie’ got unto her lap and almost instantly fell asleep for the first time during the day.

I’m so grateful when I think about all the blessings and joy we experienced during the past year. I find motherhood incredibly tiring, but my little girl is more delightful than I could ever have imagined. I’m in awe of the amount of love that DH and I have for this tiny, cute and funny little creature.

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Here is a list of thoughts that swirl around in the head of a primary IF after a spontaneous positive HPT test when she had already been blessed with a one perfect little baby:

  • This is too good to be true.
  • I’d better not get excited yet.
  • Life is terribly unfair. How could it be my turn again?
  • This could not be happening.
  • Could I ever love another baby with the incredible intensity that I love my first miracle with?
  • My first baby is my little miracle. I’m not prepared for her to have to share that podium with another baby yet.
  • I should not get too excited.
  • How could I not get too excited?!
  • It’s not my turn.
  • Oh no, how could anyone survive morning sicknes and pregnancy while you’re the mom of a baby?
  • I am so incredibly blessed.

This is way too good to be true.

On my way to the bathroom on the 28th of June, I remembered that it was 14 dpo.

Strangely, ovulation only happened on CD20 of this cycle, so it was actually already CD34. The ovulation date diagnosis was maybe a bit iffy, as it was based on characteristic ovulation pain and one ovulation prediction stick that had already expired in 2009.

So rewinding two weeks, back to CD20: I saw that LH surge on the OPK rather late in the evening on the 14th of June. So I walked over to DH, swaying my hips as seductively as I could manage at the time. I was actually quite exhausted and feeling very much not in the mood, as our gorgeous little girl was still happily doing stay-awake-training for parents at night, as had been the case for some time, actually. (And as is still the case, although we finally started countering this week with sleep training for little ones..)

Anyway, I mentioned to DH that there was a ‘target’ for him to shoot at. I said it was either that, or I was making up the target story to get ‘some’. Either way, he wasn’t going to get away! And as always, my awesome DH happily and grandly rose to the occasion. We rather hurriedly ‘made a plan’ not that long before midnight on the bunk bed in the nursery – as LO was asleep (for a change) in the cot in our romantic (hahaha – little joke here) bedroom.

So zooming back to 14 dpo: I went back into the bedroom and rummaged through my cupboard. Luckily I found an HPT that managed to escape the POAS-fest that followed after my previous BFP (at which time I was armed with enough fresh HPTs to test every woman in a small African country).

I went into the bathroom, did the deed and got back into bed to read my baby girl a story. I waved the HPT stick in DH’s direction and said that the test was of course negative, but he had to remember that we’d need patience due to my age, his age, my endo, our IF history, etc., etc., blah, blah..

DH took the stick from me, looked at it and became quiet. “Let me turn up the down lighters for you so you can have a closer look”, he said as he handed the stick back to me.

This time I looked. And there it was. Clear as day. A second line.

These are my favourite holiday pics, all taken in the Kruger Park. Hmm.. wait, they all happen to be of my baby angel, someone who has according to my darling husband definitely surpassed her mommy in beauty! Guess I can’t argue, hey?

Hitching a ride on daddy’s back

Bathtime fun

Lunchtime fun

Having a chucle in the arms of my brother in law during a picnic at Afsaal

Most of the footage I took of animals are also really footage showing my ‘babaliefie’ looking at animals through the car window.

How times have changed. How we love things the way things are now.

About two weeks ago I squeezed into my sexiest pair of jeans again. It was the first time I wore them since I fell pregnant with my ‘babaliefie’. I’ve been wearing most of my old clothes again for some time now – sadly, including my tiny bra’s. (How I miss those exuberant breastfeeding boobs!) My weight has been back to my pre-pregnancy weight for a few weeks now.

When I looked at myself in my trusty pair of jeans, I realized that my body felt as if it had never been pregnant. It’s a strange thought. My baby angel is living proof that my whole life has been turned upside down, yet my body had forgotten all about it already. (OK, all those spider veins that appeared on my legs during pregnancy tell a story of their own, but still, they don’t make my body feel any different.)

I guess I’m lucky. On the other hand, I miss the softness of my post-pregnancy body. Since I’m thin as a rake, I felt wonderfully sexy and curvy during pregnancy and breastfeeding. And yet, it also feels nice and familiar to have my own ass back again. To be ‘just me’ again.

Later on that skinny jeans day, I almost forgot to pick up my baby angel at daycare! It’s the first time that my mind was so focused on other things that auto-pilot driving caused me to miss the turnoff to the daymother. I felt guilty for a few moments, but then I realized I didn’t have to. It was as wonderful as always to see my baby’s face again when I arrived at the daymother. It’s just that I finally seem able to immerse myself in my own life again to some extent – that is my life away from my precious baby.

Someday I hope to teach my baby angel how to fly high, high, high and as far away as she needs to in order to reach her dreams. It’s the most beautiful, but also the saddest thought.

It’s reassuring to realize there should still be a ‘me’ left behind on the day that my beautiful baby leaves the nest. A doting mother, yet someone with some hopes and dreams of her own.

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