Happy New Year!

Goodbye 2012, hello 2013!!

What a year. And the world didn't end. ;-) For me, 2012 was a good year. A great year, in fact. My last and 4th baby was born. Safely, healthy and perfect. My second daughter. How happy can one be? Sometimes I think I'm ontop of the world, there's nothing more that could make me happier. And then something happens. Something like the birth of a child, and I realise now I'm as happy as one can be! It was a beautiful year. The first half was spent in a haze of nausea, but it was all worth it. Every second of 9 months of nausea. I see so many people comment online that "now their family is complete". That's how I feel. At long last, I can say that in all honesty. I have the children I wanted. I'm done with pregnancy and babies and having more children. Because I'm happy with those I have. I'm satisfied. I'm complete. I'm so so so grateful that I too could say that and mean it. I think if given unlimited funds and health, I could've and would've had more babies. But for what I was given, I'm very happy and grateful to have 4 children. And two of each. How blessed am I!

So 2012 was a good year. At the end of 2011, I was tired. I was nauseous. I was done for. The pregnancy came too quickly after Boeboe's operation and the 2-year long road I had to travel to get to that point. Even though 2011 was a good year, and turned out well, I couldn't face it. I couldn't see it and deal with it. But now I can. I can look back at both 2011 and 2012 and realise we had 2 good years. We have so much to be thankful for. Four healthy, beautiful, exceptional children. Each with their own difficult paths that they had to travel. But we travelled it step by step, with God as our lead, and we ended up in green pastures. I'm so thankful. For Boeoboe's operation. For the success it was. For the seizing of Mr N's epilepsy - holding thumbs! So far so good. Three months without medication and no seizures that we've noticed. For Monkeyman's improvement of school. For Peanut's birth. So much we're grateful for in 2012.

So what will 2013 bring? I hope it will be a quite year. An easy year. A non-medical year!! A year where we won't need to see specialists and doctors and hospitals and such. I know it's not possible. Boeboe and Peanut both need regular check-ups. But as long as it's just check-ups and nothing more. We can only pray and hope and believe that that would be 2013. And we'll take it day by day, enjoy Peanut's first year with her, and be a family of 6!!

I hope that everyone that frequent this blog will also have a wonderful, peaceful and good 2013. Happy New Year!!!

A tribute to my mother

I miss my mother. I always miss her this time of the year. Naturally. I wonder if one ever stop missing his or her parents? I was very close to my mom. People tend to think that if you lost a parent, you weren't that close to that parent. Because they can't imagine that it could happen to them. Loosing their parent. So if they're that close to their mom, it is simply unimaginable to loose her. Thus, you couldn't have been that close to yours, because the pain would be too much to bear.

Unfortunately for those that think like that....yes, you CAN be that close to your mom, and still loose her. And yes, sometimes, especially in the beginning, the pain IS too much to bear. But somehow, with the grace of God, I got through it. And still get through it. The pain is never gone. I have acceptance, yes. I don't cry anymore every time I look at a photo of her or think about her. But it's still a hole in my heart. It will always be a hole in my heart. But, 11 years down the line, it's bearable. The missing stays, though. It never gets any better. I still wish I could phone her and tell her about the horrible day I had. Or email her and get that twinge of excitement when I see there's a reply. I wish for her wise words to sooth me, her support to carry me through the hard times.

My mom was a very special person. Yes, I know, everyone says that. But as a person, as a human being, mine was really, really special. She had what we call in my mother tongue, a depth of spirit that was unequaled. I've never came across anyone else that had such depth, such soul, such beauty. She was an intellectual, and she understood human nature like no one else. She had empathy for the worst kind of human beings. Whereas I saw things and people as black and white, she saw them in shades of grey. She understood how I felt, but she had empathy for everyone. Good or bad. She could summarise people immediately and knew where they came from. She understood what shaped people.

These unique abilities made her the perfect highschool teacher. She didn't work in the normal school environment though. She went to teach the poorest of the poor. Communities that had very little to give. Very little support. Very little going for them. And she threw her whole weight behind her job. She gave everything. Her mind, her body, her soul. I can't remember much of the mourning service we gave her after her death. But what I do remember, was the beautiful words that her collegue spoke. You could hear how much he (they) valued her at the school. How much she meant to them. Professionally and personally. And how much they're going to miss her.

My mother loved music. Apart from her family and work, this was her big love. She loved Handle, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Schubart, etc. All the big composers. For relaxation, she would lie down in the afternoons, and for an hour or two, she would put her music on loud and just gave herself over to the music. It calmed her. It restored her soul. I could never get into classical music like she did. Unfortunately. Her other hobby was sewing. She made most of my clothes, and allot of her own. She also loved to study. I lost track with the number of degrees and majors she got behind her name. She loved geography the most. When I think of her, I remember her sitting by her desk, plotting the topography maps laid out. She studied through the post. The number of times I went to her desk to kiss her goodnight.... such bittersweet memories. And flowers. I can't see a beautiful flower, without thinking about my mom. She loved, loved, loved flowers. ALL flowers. She planted as much as she could afford, and tended to them like a mother. She would adorn her home with them. She loved putting welcoming flowers in all the rooms for visitors. When I developed severe hayfever from flowers, she would pick those that affected me least, and put one or two in my room. She simply couldn't NOT welcome me home without a flower in my room.

And the sea. Waenhuiskrans, to be precise. That's where her heart was.

I wish she could see me and my children today. I wish she could hold my babies, and get to know them as little people. See how unique and special they are. She would've LOVED them, I know. She would've most definitely have had a very special relationship with Mr N, because he sees the world like I do, and my views made for lots of interesting conversations between me and my mom. She would've had the same with mr N. She also would've loved seeing Boeboe. My spitting image. How special would that have been for her, to see her own baby repeat in her granddaughter. She would've been so please to see me as a stay at home mom. And even more pleased if she saw I had 4 children. She too had four children. And she always thought that I wouldn't be able to have as many. Because times have changed and all that jazz. She would've loved seeing me defy the odds and be as bold as to go and get what I want. To make my dreams come true. It would've pleased her no end. All that she wanted for us, was that we would've turned out well-balanced adults who live productive and happy lives. It would've made her very proud to see that that was exactly what we all did, in the end. It would've also please her very much to see all of us living so close together as we're doing. To see us support each other, care for each other. She would've loved seeing the bonds that formed between her grandchildren.

I do believe that she's with us, always. That she DOES see them. That she does get to know them, even if it's not with us in body. But in spirit, I know she's with us. I feel her sometimes. And sometimes I can even feel her emotions. I know, that sounds strange. But it's what I feel. I miss her so much. She was my rock, my support. The one person that didn't care what I say or do. That was always there for me. That always understood me. I'm fortunate that my husband and sister covers some of the hole in me. But nothing can ever take her place. I loved her like I loved no other human being for 22 years, until I met my husband and had babies. For 22 years, my mother was my whole world. The horror of loosing her...it left a permanent scar on my heart.

It hurts me to think that one day, my children will also experience this pain. But I hope that like me, they would find peace after their mother's death. That they'd have acceptance. And that they too would think of me with love, respect, longing and a sense of all encompassing support and care. I hope that they'd get over the initial sharp pain of loosing me, and then find solace in the life I lead. That they too would know I was ready. That I had the life I chose. That I was happy and had no regrets.

The gender debate...

Since we told the children that we're going to have another baby in the house, Boeboe has been adamant that it must be a little girl. She already has 2 brothers, she now also wanted a sister. She prayed for it for months, every night. That God will let this baby be a little girl. She understood that we don't have a choice in the matter, and that it could be either a boy or a girl. When I once asked her if she'll love another baby in the house if it isn't a little girl, she answered: "Of course. It's a baby. I loved Monkeyman even though he was a boy!". And that's Boeboe for you! So it's not that I fear that she won't love the new baby, I know she will. But, for her sake, I've been hoping that she'll get a sister one day. Mine means so much to me, I do believe every girl deserves to have a sister.

So in the beginning of this pregnancy, we assumed it will be for the best if we find out the answer. For Boeboe's sake. But then we started wondering. I sat down with Boeboe a few weeks ago and explained to her that we do have another option. That we don't have to find out the gender. That we can wait until baby is born, before we know. And that it will then be a big surprise.

Well, she surprised me!! She immediately grabbed onto the idea and from then on was adamant that we shouldn't find out the gender. We also told Mr N, who also found the idea intriguing. So, on the eve of my 16-week visit with the gynae, we sat down as a family. Because I have private health care in our country, I get a sonar with every 4-week visit at the gynae, and we knew she'd be able to tell us the gender this time (at 12 weeks it was just too early).

So we needed to decide, will we find out, or will we wait? After some discussions, no one could for sure say yay or nay. Mr N then had the bright idea that we must put it to a vote. He gave each one a piece of paper and we had to write it down. Afterwards, he and Boeboe collected everyone's votes and read the verdict. I was the only one that voted yay!! The rest, all the kids and daddy, voted no! So, that was the final decision. :) We thus have requested the gynae at our last visit to not reveal the gender, and she's taken care to make sure of that. Both me and my hubby has this "suspicion" that it's a boy, but sometimes I'll have this feeling of pink. In the beginning of the pregnancy, I thought the baby to be a little girl. So now I'm not really sure. Not at all. With the other 3 I was quite sure from the start, and right every time. This time, I just don't know!! And it frustrates me, LOL. I loved having that instinctive feeling of what it was, the other times. And I got those feelings before a sonar confirmed it for me.

In fact, with Mr N we didn't find out the gender either! I instinctively knew it was a boy, but we still decided to not find out. And it was lovely! We bonded with baby because it was our baby, not because of a certain gender. We loved him/her for what (s)he is. It really didn't matter to me or my husband. People didn't like it, they tried to convince us to find out. Even now, while we're doing it again, they immediately go into defensive mode and tell us how they had to find out. Because they needed to know for whatever reason. Well, we don't have those reasons! We don't need those reasons. Can't you understand that? Like the gynae said...there's so few things left in this world to be surprised about. Why not enjoy this gift for what it is? I don't have any problem bonding with a genderless baby. Why would the gender play a role there? Well, it doesn't for me. My baby is my baby. I love him or her just as (s)he is. With any faults/abnormalities/issues that may come with the baby. Why would the gender then be a distinctive marker? Well, to me it isn't. Oh, I wanted a little girl! I desperately wanted to have all that pink experiences again. I had the blue twice now, so I wanted the pink again. I tried for a little girl, and obsessed about it. Until I fell pregnant. Then, of course, those feelings mostly fell away. Now, this is just my baby. It doesn't matter who or what it turns out to be. I'll love it fiercly, like all my other children.

So, why do people get defensive about their choice of finding out the gender? Why do they feel the need to immediately reply to my "we're not finding out the gender" comment, to go into elaborate and passionate reasons about why one should know the gender? It has baffled me. Why would my choice illicit such a vehement defence of theirs? It's not as if their choices is going to change my mind?! So could it be guilt? Do they feel guilty for needing to find out the gender? I don't know.

We had both. We had the surprise with Mr N. And we found out the gender with both Monkeyman and Boeboe. And of those 3, the surprise was MUCH nicer!! There was just NO comparison for me. But when I tell people this, they brush it off as clearly not that big a deal. But they don't hear me. It was MUCH nicer FOR US. I'm not saying it should or would be nicer for other people. But WE, we loved the surprise! For US, it was the better deal. Waiting and bonding with our baby for 9 months regardless of who or what (s)he turns out to be, and then hearing that "It's a boy!" yell of surprise and excitement from the gynae....the moment was priceless. Of all 3 my births, of all the thousands of little moments that made the 3 births special, that's the one that stood out for me. And I want that again.

Yes, I voted to find out. Because I'm human and wanted to go buy a pink or blue babygrow and blanket. But I'm happy that I was veto'ed. That we get to have this surprise again. Yesterday, I took Boeboe shopping and we had a look at the baby clothes. We bought a few non-gender specific white things, and she was loving every moment. But she did say, oh, how will we be able to wait!! Because of all those beautiful little pink and blue babygrows....ah, bliss. I just told her we'll come and shop as soon as baby was born. :) And we'll buy all the pink or blue we want. In the meantime, white, yellow, lime and peach will have to do. She was satisfied with that. So, for now, we're only shopping for a few newborn babygrows. Most of what I need, I'll get after the birth. Fortunately I don't need much. We have loads of clothes in the cupboard from Boeboe and the boys, and we have all the baby stuff like a pram, a stroller, a cot, a camping cot, a carry cot, a donut, a babygym, carseats, a bumboseat, a seat to clip onto our table, sheets and other bedding, etc. We don't need much for this baby, except a few toiletries, newborn nappies and of course I want a few new newborn outfits for in the hospital. And just because I can. :)

Now, we have to wait for our little suprise baby in less than 5 months...can't wait to hear the gynae's voice yelling "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!". :)