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Warning: I wrote this draft a week or two ago, but couldn’t just post it right away. It’s actually a rather raw, intense post. Fun on the outset, but also dark, philosophical and maybe disturbing. I hope that if you do decide to read it, that you will find some of the whimsical beauty in it that I tried to convey.


One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.

Sophocles (496 BC–406 BC)


It’s still dark outside. Hubby is in the shower. Baby and I are playing in our PJ’s on the bed. Tickles, giggles, squeals and kisses.

Tiny, dimply hands outstretched. Asking for more cuddles, more rough and tumble, more of life. Baby somersaults and Billy Elliot leaps test the mattress’s enthusiasm, giving the old thing a higher purpose.

The window is coated with winter rain on the outside. On the inside, it’s fogged up with sweet baby breath, with the warmth of our fidgeting, squirming bodies and the love in our hearts. Tickles, giggles, squeals and kisses.

Somewhere in Somalia a child is starving. Somewhere a few kilometers down the road, a baby is being dumped in a rubbish bin.

The time will come when blowing raspberries will lose their charm. Time will sculpt those fat cheeks into a sleek profile. Time will shape my back into a crescent. My arms will no longer be strong enough to make my darling jump like Billy Elliot and make her somersault through the air.

But on this rainy, wintry morning, I’m playing with my baby. Tickles, giggles, squeals and kisses.

And for some brief, heavenly moments we’re untouchable. Far out of reach of world hunger, Malema, misery and despair. Two small souls lost in a moment of pure, sacred joy – against the vast backdrop of time, space and eternity.

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.

News from the FS’s scan:

There’re two adjacent sacs and the one bean looks fine. No hearbeat, but LO’s measuring 5.1 mm which is equal to an age of 6w2d. That is right on track. FS (Dr Siebert) doesn’t look worried. It is probably just too early for a heartbeat. (Hoping and praying the FS is right – I guess you never stop worrying, hey?)

The other little one is not making it, sac is filled with blood – which explains yesterday. This situation does increase the risk for the healthy bean, but I remind myself of all the odds that this LO has already overcome.

My joy at having one healthy bean is way bigger than the sadness over the other one. Raising twins would have been an awesome adventure, but I’ll be eternally grateful if I get to say hello to one healthy little babaliefie in a few months’ time.

We’re hoping to see the heartbeat at Wednesday’s scan.

Thank you so much for the messages and prayers this morning, ladies. It means so much to me.

I think about this often, as every IF probably do.

I’ve always loved kids, taught Sunday school to 6-year olds for years and became a paediatric occupational therapist – mostly because I figured it was the most valuable course a prospective mother could take at university. As an oldest sister with 4 siblings, I helped raised and totally adored my 2 little brothers – I was an awestruck 6-year old at the time of the birth of the oldest of the 2.

If things went according to plan (as it does for many non-IFs), I’d have been married and raising a truck load of kids before I knew it.

But working with kids as OT in the UK was traumatic. Disabled kids, retarded kids, dying kids, inherited diseases wiping out all kids in a lovely family.. Playing with the kids was great and I considered myself very lucky for getting paid to do this. But, it also got boring to every day watch kids struggle with the most simple tasks. It’s not very intellectually stimulating.

Furthermore, Prince Charming took his time. By 27, I made a career change (into IT) and could now to keep food on my table in sunny SA. Next thing I knew, I was a single career woman going places while many of friends were looking after terribly obnoxious LOs!

I know the following:

  • If I could choose, I’d rather not have kids than watch a disabled kiddie struggle through a possibly short and painful life. But we don’t get to choose.
  • Hearing my mother complain about pregnancy and childbirth for most of my young life, I’ve always been absolutely terrified of that experience. I wish I could have kids without going through that crap.
  • I’ve always hated AF and all the cramping and would have liked a hysterectomy at 15 if only I could somehow still have had my own genetic kids despite that.
  • I still absolutely love playing with kids and adore my little nephews.

I’ve only qualified as ‘IF’ in July and instantly plunged into major depression. How unfair! I’ve spent most of my life wishing, planning and preparing for this!

However, having carefully considered all, I’ve decided not to miss the joy that can be found today! Remember, there is no guarantee that we’d be happy once we have those kiddies.

So yes: I still want to have kids and I’ll mourn over IF my whole life if I never have kids. But, maybe being 35 years young(!) in our modern society, being healthy, having a wonderful DH and a fantastic luxurious life (by many standards) is actually as good as it gets?

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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