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Oh dear, has my blog been quiet?

Life happens while you’re making plans to blog about it..

It’s late and I should be off to bed. In another hour or so, my baby boy will wake up hungry. In a few more hours my little girl will wake up in a playful mood (if she sleeps through the night).

But first, I had to capture today’s (or by now really yesterday’s) afternoon. It gives a glimpse on my life now, here.


My little girl is sitting on the swing in our garden. She’s wearing her pretty new jeans. The legs are too long for her and I’ve folded them double at the bottom. Her one arm is holding on tightly to the soft toy duck on her lap. Her other arm is gesturing how high she wants me to push her. The slanted autumn sun snuggles idly against my back. The rays of the sun draw shadows on the wall of a little girl swinging up and down, up and down.

My baby boy lies next to the swing on the thick, green grass. His eyes follow two ring-necked doves as they rise from the thatched roof of the lapa to a tree. Above his head, green and gold leaves rustle in the afternoon breeze. The blue of the sky reflects in his eyes as he coos contentedly.

Later on, my little girl and I sit on the blanket next to our baby. I peel an orange for us while we wait for daddy to come home. My little girl feeds a juicy piece to her duck before she shoves a strip of orange peel under her brother’s nose. He flashes a delighted grin as his tiny nose detects the citrusy fragrance.

My girl pulls her sun hat with the pink flowers down over her eyes in a game of peek-a-boo. She ‘surprises’ me by attacking me from behind and clasp her arms around my shoulders. She runs like the wind towards the lapa to watch a nervous lizard scamper up the brick wall. Her daddy arrives and they kick her big plastic ball around on the grass.

When evening falls tonight, the blood red African sun will be setting on us here in this new town and on our new home – and on the picture of one perfect afternoon.


“Van al my liggeel dae
teken ek hierdie een op;
dat ek later kan weet hoe swerms
duiwe van die dakke waai,
en dat ek, as ek wil,
later kan lees van ‘n liggeel
dag en van jou hier langes my.”
~ Wilma Stockenstrom

Loosely translated:
“Of all my pale yellow days
I make a note of this one;
so that I’ll remember later on
how flocks of doves drift from rooftops
and so that I’d be able to, if I wanted,
read about a pale yellow day
and about you here beside me”


jy’s so lig en so lag
so giggeltjies en kielietjies
so dartelende skoenlapper-lappertjie

jy’s so lief en so lig
so feëtjies en fyntjies
so besige klein bytjie

met jou nuuskierige, ronde dimpeltjie-handjies
met die sagte veertjie-raampie om jou blinkoog gesiggie
met jou sleep-sleep kombersie-stertjie
met jou wippetie foppietjie soos ‘n veldmuisie se neusie

klein sterretjie
klein varkie parkie
pikkewyntjie
kaalvoetkleintjie

vir jou het ek so lief so lief

My baby angel has been crying at daycare. I’ve been crying at work. She would cry when I drop her off in the morning. When I call her daymother during the day, I could hear her crying in the background. She’d be crying when I pick her up, until I would hold her in my arms and wipe those tears.

It made me write this:

My world has moved, yet my desk hasn’t noticed my metamammamorphosis

My desk becomes a door to a city of endless, grey streets
through which I wander bleary-eyed
all day long while

my heart searches and searches
“Where is my baby angel? Where is she?”

my ears remain pricked-up
“Do we hear her calling?”

my empty arms hunger for her warm softness

my breasts weep with yearning


The hours drag their feet

Finally, I get to take her from the other woman!

Here she is! She is safe.

I bury my mouth in her wispy baby shampoo hair

I draw the curtain on the world and her thirsty lips find me

She moulds onto me, we melt into each other

I’m whole again

Today exactly a year ago, I stared at a home pregnancy test in disbelief – and that was the start of a whole new adventure! It was a year ago, it was yesterday – and of course more than a lifetime ago for my baby girl.

Aah, my eyes still mist up when I think back of that joy-filled day. (You’ll find more on that day here on my blog: day I tested positive )

It’s only a year later, but now I get to hold the most precious little ‘babaliefie’ in my arms every day (and every night of course – ha! …time I used to spend on boring old sleep..).

Last year on this day she was but a fragile dream, like a soap bubble you stare at in wonder. Now she’s a beautiful baby girl bouncing on my knee. How times have changed! Of course, of course, parenthood is hard too.. Yes, yes, but it remains the most amazing and fulfilling thing ever.

I will remain eternally grateful.

Just a few days prior to that positive pregnancy test (it was during the 2ww) I penned a poem:

we’ll frame our laughter
next to nana’s bed
we’ll show you the world
from the top of Lion’s head

we’ll giggle at penguins
fly kites on the beach
there’s so much to learn, my little one,
there’s so much to teach

and there’ll be candles at birthdays
and ducks in the bath
a night light and Lego
and picnics and parties
and ice cream
and…

if only you’d stay with me
it would be so much fun, you’d see

us three
your daddy, me
and you

And she stayed.

When people ask whether I’m going to give birth ‘naturally’, I have to wonder: What could possibly be natural about pushing your first child out of your (beloved, nice and tight) vajayjay a month before turning 36?!

If Mother Nature had her way, this would surely have been number 10 or number 15, right? Unless of course I died giving birth to one of the previous little tykes. After all, what could be more natural than dying during child birth – an option that was apparently taken by up to a third of women before the dawn of medical science?

If I compare my life to that of Mrs Flintstone, I frankly don’t think I’ve ever done anything that could be labelled ‘100% natural’. Except maybe for getting conceived naturally by my super fertile parents (as opposed to my own artificially conceived little angel), albeit in a bed rather than on a cave floor and possibly involving props and outfits that would have puzzled Mrs Flintstone.

And thanks, but I enjoy modern life. One look at myself in the mirror first thing in the morning makes it perfectly clear that Mother Nature has some pretty cruel intentions.

As for experiencing ‘natural birth’: When I want to feel like a woman, I like to slip on something tiny made of satin, go shopping, or outshine my male colleagues in a male dominated industry. I doubt that crawling around moaning and screaming on the floor during a ‘wonderfully natural’ home birth would make me feel more feminine. (Yes, yes, an epidural and all – but surely you then miss out on the whole primeval ‘natural birth’ experience in any case?).

So could we please stick to the term ‘vaginal birth’ rather than ‘natural birth’? Especially for an elderly prima gravida like myself (a term used by doctors to indicate that you’re having your first kid once you’re way past your prima).

Last point, having looked at studies on the safety of vaginal births when compared to caesars, I’m shocked to see how flawed their methodology is in general. Obviously there are no double-blind random studies, but how could anyone with a brain simply lump all women who had successful vaginal births together and compare this with all women who had caesars and then declare vaginal births the winner? What about those failed traumatic vaginal births that ended in emergency caesars and the high risk pregnancies that necessitated caesars? Also, why are many of these still referenced studies 20 years old?

So am I keen on having a c-sec? Actually, nope.

“Sorry, unfortunately I’m not crazy about the c-sec idea either, Doc. I realize it’s got its own set of drawbacks. Don’t you have any other options that are maybe a bit more ‘Beam me out, Scotty’?”

As I woke up today, I lay there on my 35-year old, IF butt thinking that there’s not much to celebrate when you turn 35 while the nursery is still empty. 😦

But then I heard my loving DH in the kitching, fixing me breakfast (as he does everyday). I thought about having a house, a warm bed, a good enough job..

What’s more, this is the era of cool technology, Prozac, the WonderBra, the world wide web, comfy office jobs, anti-wrinkle night cream and KFC’s chocolate brownie avalance! To mention only a few of the blessings and conviences of modern life. And yes, let’s also hear it for ART and IVF!

So here’s to celebrating life today! With all its joys & blessings and despite its sorrows. 🙂

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