Happy happy happy!

It's the photo monster again. It's eaten up my creative brain and left me with nothing but mushy happy floaty bunny thoughts right now. Which isn't exactly conducive to good writing. So, in the absence of something really funny and witty to say, these pics will have to fill the gap. And really, when the pics are of such a cute subject, who cares if there's nothing to say, right?

I marvel every day at our little angel. What did I do to deserve such a blessing as this? I just praise God every moment that I spend staring at her. Which lands up being a huge chunk of my day, cos once I get started looking at her, I just can't stop. I run my fingertips down her nose and twirl her little fingers between mine. I cuddle her into my neck and breathe deeply of her scent. She is gorgeous. Perfect. And mine. All, only, by the grace of God. Without Him and His blessing, I would still be barren. Instead, "He has settled the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children..." Psalm 113:9 (Thanks Karen for sharing that verse with me!)

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I just can't totally fathom it.

Parenting aint for sissies

Warning: This post contains details of poop. May offend sensitive readers. (haha!)

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My heart is breaking for my lil sugar-booger... she has gone from jippo-guts to constipation of note. Poor little bunny. And my poor blog readers too - this blog is turning into a bit of a POOP CHRONICLES. Thank goodness one of my friends is a pediatric surgeon, and another of my friends is a homeopath specialising in childcare... They talk sense into my panicked brain all hours of the day and night when I phone them asking a gazillion-and-one questions. Were it not for them, I might have gone around the bend already. Well, more around the bend than I already am, that is. Is parenting supposed to be this hard? Or am I just a little more paranoid than most parents? Hmmm... OK, don't answer that.

Anyhoo... It turns out that I'm quite a good poop-scooper after all. When it comes to changing nappies (that's diapers in Americanese) I can do it with my eyes closed by now. Not really closed. But you know what I mean. And now, as an added dimension to the Poop Scooping Posse, I have added bum massage and bicycle-legging to the nappy-changing schedule. They say it helps to get the, um, er, bowels moving. At this stage, I'm willing to try anything, y'all.

In one of our nappy-changing sessions, my mom and I were doing the Poop Brigade, i.e. one of us holds sugar-booger, the other gets the changing table ready with all the goodies we're going to need. Then we do the whole nappy change together. One holds the legs, the other wipes the derier. Quick!, remove nappy, place new one under the buttocks, wipe, tuck, fold and attach. Simple really. Until the, um, poop, is still traversing the dungshoot and the new nappy is not yet in place under the exhaust pipe. If you know what I'm saying. Then both granny and mommy jump around the room going 'Ew! Ew! Where's another Bum Wipe? Quick! You get it! No, I'll get it! OK, one of us better get it, and SOON!' by which stage the poop is already landing on the nifty easily-cleanable changing table's surface. Thank Heavens for plastic changing mats!

So, this one time (and yes, this has happened more than once and yes, you'd think we'd have learned our lesson by now...) neither of us were quick enough in grabbing another Bum Wipe. And so my mom, Poop Scooper of Note, caught the protruding offender in her hand. I kid you not. I was laughing so hard I couldn't offer any assistance.

For about one whole hour.

And then, (yes, it gets better!) my mom walked to the rubbish bin with the log in her hand, and just as she lifted the lid on the bin, the parcel in her hand landed on the floor and she had to pick it up off of the floor to throw it away! Too funny! My sides are still hurting for laughing so hard.

Anyhoo. I told you it was gross. Don't blame me. You kept reading after I posted an OFFICIAL WARNING at the top of this post. Haha!

Here is a pic of my fave sis (Aurette) with my punkin. This one was taken last Saturday already.

And this is little Ethan (Aurette's son) with his new cuzzy.

(The puppy had to be in the pic. It goes everywhere with him! Too cute!)

Happy Gas

My mom came home with us to the Hillbilly Dump. Thank Heavens for moms! I went into hospital to be there with our baby totally healthy and came out with a tummy bug (uh, yes. Welcome to Africa.) and then, as a welcome home pressie, Jesse-Lee caught my bug. So it's been a rough couple of days. I thought my heart was breaking when she was struggling with tummy cramps. Now I know what helplessness feels like. But, praise God!, she is better now.

I thought I'd post a few more pics of our gorgeous little sugar booger. Because I'm totally one-track minded right now and absolutely smitten with her.

And they said that one week old babies don't smile...

They tell me that it's not a smile but gas. Well, if that's the case then me and my nostrils are in for a rough ride... I already have one member of my family that thinks that gas is hilarious (hint: he is totally hot and I get to sleep with him every night) and now Jesse-Lee also smiles whenever there's a gaseous eruption brewing. Lord have mercy!

spam!

I would love to be able to say I had a valid excuse for not blogging the last few days, but really I was just totally uninspired to say anything. And you all know how rare that is for me. It's been WONDERFUL being back home at my hillbilly dump, doing nothing convalescing. Me and my ladies are feeling so much better now. This time last week was agony. So, life's looking decidedly perkier for me now. Maybe one of the boring reasons why I haven't blogged or even gone online once since I'm home (until now) was because I was really just so sick and tired of being sore all day long, and feeling like there was no end to the pain in sight. But, today things are really looking up. And bouncy. Sorry - I just couldn't resist.

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But, it was also a mini-experiment for myself too. I had become a bit hooked on cyber-space lately (my addictive personality thingy), and wanted to see how long I could last without even plugging in my 3G doodab. Three days. And then my fingers started twitching I couldn't resist just checking if I had emails waiting. Listen to this disappointing total for three days worth of waiting... grand total: sixty six unread emails. Woop dee doo. And of those sixty six emails, guess how many were NOT forwards? Three. So, sorry folks, if any of your mails to me had a "fw" at the start of the subject, it was just deleted by moi. Because, really, how many "happy friends day" or "good morning" emails can you read before they become meaningless? Here's to taking my emails by the horns! Power to the people! Viva! (Some of my South African roots showing there. Ja nee.)

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Thanks for the suggestions for a gift for my tjommie, guys. As much as I'd love to buy her a spa treatment, that would involve babysitters for her son while she's gone warra warra fish paste... so me thinks a barney (or some other similar equally annoying) dvd - with matching earplugs set - is the way to go. Maybe it's a good thing I never got to be a mom! Shucks... that Mommy Business is some serious stuff! Staying up all night, changing some nappies akin to nuclear waste, listening to "mama, mama, mama, mama" over and over and over and over and over and over and over again... That's some tough stuff, that's for sure. Trying on the nerves. And the wallet. And the sleep. Gawsh, I really don't know if I'd have had the metal for that kind of lifelong responsibility. Especially considering my propensity for doing fickle things like sleeping late, eating when I feel like eating, staying clean all day, smelling nice, dashing off to visit friends at a moment's notice, et cetera. It would really mean your life is TOTALLY different once you're a parent. And I'm begining to enjoy my life as it is now, thank you very much. I like having a nice, neat, quiet home.

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Who am I kidding? I would have LOVED to have been a mom! But, I'm beginning to see, too, that I can also be happy as a non-mom. Thank goodness for that! A year or so ago, there was no reasoning with this silly billy. I did not even want to consider the possibility that mommydom might not be in the cards for me. I refused to accept that eventuality. But moving forward and letting it go has been the best thing I've ever done. A childless life for me, now, isn't so scary anymore.

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So anyway, basically, life = v groovy for me right now.

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My parents, sister, nephew and bro-in-law arrive tonight for the weekend. Should be loads of fun! They say they're missing us and life on the farm but I think they're just curious dying to see my new additions. Hee hee! I'll probably post some pics for you to see on Sunday. (Of my family etc., not the gals yet. They're still really swollen and not looking the way they will in a few weeks time. More realistic expectations of outcome only around Christmas time... so, if you're good, I might post some before and after pics only then.)

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OK, I'm going to log off now. I have bunches of other people's blogs to catch up on from the last few days. Toodledoo!

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PS if your housekeeping's not quite up to date and your need to have your monitor cleaned, click here!

Mammie

I've been trying to blog all day, but just couldn't seem to find something to blog about. Mmm... I've come to the conclusion that big-breasted women totally lack brains apparently my brains were vacuumed out during surgery, rendering me incapable of anything requiring imagination. It's hard to blog about anything but the boozies right now. Sorry folks. And I was trying so hard to "resume my blog's normal programming" too. Oh well. The stuck record is, well, truly stuck.

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Before I go though, I must tell you about my friend Riana's little boy, Jean. He calls his mommy "Mama". Apparently I am now officially mommy number two, because he's taken to calling me "Mammie". It was a bit heartsore for me the first couple of times he called me Mammie - I never thought I'd ever hear someone calling me that - but I must say, I am growing to love the sound of it. I get a wonderfully warm, squishy feeling when I hear him calling me that name, usually reserved for mothers. I could quite get used to it!

Moms who kill

I am shocked at the news today of the tragedy when a mom in Oak Hills, Texas, took her own life after hanging her three children! The baby survived. I guess it is just beyond my fathoming that someone could do this - and to children! Of course, I realize there is such a thing called Post Partum Depression, and extenuating circumstances, etc. but I also believe there comes a time when that person is still compus mentus and responsible for their actions, and that that somebody should seek help. What has happened in this incidence makes my blood boil. Perhaps I am a little more sensitive to crimes against children, what with our inability to have them and all, but this woman was beyond irresponsible. Am I overreacting? Is this not one of the most selfish tragedies you've ever heard of?

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I suppose us non-mommies - and I mean specifically those of us who can't have children, not those who choose not to have children - have a slightly more "critical" eye when it comes to parent's behaviour... and if I'm really honest, we like to believe that if or when we become parents, we would never do that! Which is, of course, totally stupid! Because until we're in that same position, how could we know how we'd react?

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Post Partum Depression is not an imagined condition. It is so very real and affects many many women. Unfortunately it is a silent disease. That is to say, not many people talk about it. And so the poor women suffer in silence, crying out for help to a deaf audience.

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I wonder if that woman in Oak Hills suffered from Post Partum Depression? And I wonder, would I excuse her beastly behaviour if I knew she had it? None of us will ever know what led her to do what she did. And even if we knew, would we I still stand in judgment of her? Would I climb off of my high horse and feel for her?

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I don't know. But I am just so angry saddened by it. There are so many of us who would sell our kidneys to purchase a baby (if it were legal, of course!), and then the lives of children are stolen at the hands of their own parents. It makes me so very cross.

Heart Stuff episode 2

A quick update... so, my mom and Aurette (my sister. I know - awesome name huh?) are still at the hospital. Apparently the doctors want to make doubly sure that the test results from her last trip to the cardiologist are 100%. Because today, all they've done are exactly the same tests they did a few weeks ago. In the doctor's surgery. And not in this hopeless hospital. So she's running on the treadmill, all wired up, and getting the echo testing, etc. etc. again. I feel like a deflated balloon. All that stressing about "the op" today, and now: zip. Nada. Now I know why Jesus said

"Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life... Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?...Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough troubles of it's own". Matthew 6 v 25, 27, 34

He knew all along there'd be no op today! So, besides my irritation at being all worried for nothing, I'm actually quite relieved! For today, my mom's ok! And she'll be home tonight. Where we can keep an eye on her love her and spend quality time with her.

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This whole "op" debarcle has made me so grateful for my mom. Have I told you before how much I love her? She's one of the main reasons why I also want to be a mom. She's so much more than a mom - she's also one of my best friends. I'm so glad nobody's going to be practicing their stitches on her today!

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May's Maybe's

A bunch of you have been asking about the Angus anointing. As with All Things Preggy Related, it's a waiting game. As I understand it, Mr Buchan doesn't usually take personal appointments with people. If someone wants to be anointed, then you must go to wherever he'll be preaching next. Apparently his next local (KZN) preaching appointment is on the 20th of May in Bergville, which is about 2 hours drive from us. So, we'll probably be going to spend the day in Bergville in two week's time.

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I'm going to see if I can twist my mom's arm to take her along, because do you remember about two months ago we had to rush her off to the emergency room in the middle of the night? Well, after a thorough investigation by a cardiologist, they have decided to send her in to a special hospital here in Durban (see how God looks after His children? The right hospital is right here in our city!) where they will be doing some or other procedure to lazer a portion of nerves on her heart that are malfunctioning, and the procedure will take place on the 23rd May. She told me the name of the procedure, but my memory's shot (see? Menopause???) and I just can't remember what it's called. Hhmmmph. So, I figure Angus could pray for her too, while we're there. More people praying could never hurt. I'm quietly so anxious about this procedure. I guess it has something to do with the fact that there's nothing we can do about it. She's going to have this op. It's going to happen. And we don't even get a say in what the doctor will be eating for breakfast that day! Leave alone whether or not he washes his hands properly before he enters the surgery. It's a bit scary that we're entrusting the life of my mom into the hands of a surgeon we have never even seen!

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So, May's turning out to be quite a big month for us!

11-13 May: taking the church kids camping for a weekend of fun

16th May: our first appointment for adoption from Russia (meeting in Joburg)

20th May: Bergville for Angus thingy

22nd May: Robin's 32nd birthday

23rd May: my mom's op

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As with all things, I am reminding myself that whatever happens, God has only our best in mind, and has a specific plan for each of us to find happiness in Him (Jeremiah 29 v 11-13). I rest assured that no matter what, we'll be ok. God and I, I mean. I took a decision recently that I would serve Him. And I mean it. As long as we're on lil Planet Earth, we can expect Satan to fiddle with our happiness. But in the end, God is so much bigger than any problem we might face. And I know He carries me in the palm of His hand. My mom too. And so I will fear no evil. (Psalms 23 v 4) Nor worry about tomorrow. (Matthew 6 v 25-31)

"Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands..."
Isaiah 49 v 15, 16

Some people have gay-dar...

It's weird how infertility works. Wait, how infertility works with me. (My body's a bit odd. Even in infertility circles. Mmmm. What's new, right?)
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See, there's this huge sensitivity surrounding new babies. For obvious reasons. You want one. You can't have one. Others can. And so it's a bleugghhh place to be. And because your friends / family love you and don't want to hurt you, announcing your pregnancy to an infertile can turn into something very tricky and something akin to a horror show... I actually feel so sorry for all of you guys that have had to tell me you're pregnant, by the way! I can see the agony written all over your faces and I really love you even more for handling me with kid gloves on!
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While I'm loath to admit it, it hurts MORE to hear that someone's pregnant (especially those unplanned pregnancies) than to hear the baby's actually arrived. Maybe it's because I've had 9 months to get used to the idea, by the time the little okie actually pops out.
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The funny thing is that usually by the time I'm told someone is pregnant, I already know. And not because I've already heard it via the grapevine, but because I think I've developed a rather clever babe-dar. Other people have gay-dar. I have babe-dar. It's this premonition that I get around preggy women. I really couldn't tell you how I know. I just do. Maybe it's my proximity to their happy hormones. Mine are SO all over the show, that when I'm around a preggy woman, I just KNOW it, sometimes even before they do. And then when they find out, it's like a game with me to see how long they take to tell me they're pregnant. I know, I'm terrible! Oh well.
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I think what might make it easier for them to tell me, maybe, would be the knowledge that I really am happy for them that they're pregnant. I'm so relieved that they don't have to go through what Robin and I do. I'm not jealous of them. That would be a relatively easy emotion to deal with.

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NOTE: I came back to edit a spelling error & just lost the rest of this post!!! Boo hoo... can't believe it. Oh well. Sorry. Can't remember what I had written here, but think it might have been something to the effect of: love you lots, glad you're preggy, am so happy to have you in my life and wish for you only the very happiest and easiest pregnancies. And to thank you for loving me enough to put up with me raining on your preggy parades. I wish I was a better friend than I am! I'm trying though! lots of xxx

My hand's cramping!

Here's the thing.
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See, if I really have to lay myself open for a lot of criticism (big word for this late at night - sorry if the spelling's been abused) I suppose I would have to admit that one of the main reasons I wanted to start blogging is because there's this whole world (literally!) of people out there. Really. And if I am the only one of my friends that cannot join The Moms Club, then my (slightly inferior) logic tells me there must be a whole bunch of others out there who are also looking for a "lonely-and-broken-hearted-cos-I'm-not-a-mom" club to belong to. Anyone?

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No, I'm not looking for your sympathy. OK, maybe just a little bit. But really, what I'm actually hoping for, is to find a few other God-fearing people who don't mind admitting that sometimes it's hard to be faithful. Like heart-breakingly-fist-clenchingly-resolve-destroyingly tough. Anyone out there?

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Maybe this question will draw a few blanks from those of you who always get your prayers answered exactly the way you wanted them to, at exactly the time you expected it, without any hesitation. And you will most likely be one of the number who will respond to me with a "just have faith" or a "God knows best" or one of the many other platitudes I've been fed. I do believe God knows what's best. What I'm struggling with is the loneliness and the fatigue of "hanging in there". Is anyone else's hand cramping in trying to hang on?