Just waiting. Again. Still.

Yeah, no news on Monkeyman. Just counting down the sleeps to the 30th. Not that I have much hope that we'll be any wiser after that. Except if the ENT sees something obviously wrong, of course. Like enlarged tonsils/adenoids, obstructed or narrowed throat, deviated septum. Not sure what else??

I'm a bit depressed. Well, not a bit. I'm really depressed. Not the type that you can go to the dr and ask for help. Just the kind you have to soldier through until the sun is shining again, if you know what I mean? No pill can take my melancholy away. Because it's not rooted in a chemical imbalance in the brain. Just rooted in reality. I'm so sad, so scared, so utterly despondent. And I miss my mom. So much. The tears just want to flow when I think about her.

I've used the opportunity to re-evaluate my life, my goals. It lead me to look at my friendships. And I've been quite surprised at some things I've noticed. Isn't it strange how people react differently to a situation like this?

It's not like it's a death sentence. But it's also not like it's just the flu, you know? You get those that prefers to just dissapear off the scene. Hide and hope you don't notice their absence in your life. That caused me a few smiles. ;-)

Then there are those that immediately want to know what they can do for you. They're the do-ers. The helpers. People that can't just sit still, but don't know how to make you feel better. So they offer their help. They're the salt of the earth. The people that would make sandwiches for a funeral, take a pot of soup to an ill friend, or bake lasagne for the children of someone going through chemo.

And then, there's those inbetween. The friends that just don't know what to do. They want to make you feel better, to support you, but they don't know how. Some of them are just too busy. By the time they remember you again, a week has flown by and they didn't realise it. I don't blame them, it's not as if life came to a standstill because we're going through a trauma. They still have their own daily troubles to deal with.

Some of them try, but have no idea what to say other than "how are you", or "how's Monkeyman". Or "I'm sorry". I don't mind really. Being asked how I am, or how my son is doing, is really good enough. It tells me all I need - that you're thinking about us. That you realise we're not okay. That you care about my son and what he's going through. That I can trust you enough to share if I feel I need it.

Then there's those that understand. Silently, they just understand. They give you a hug at the precise moment you need it, and you know they get it. They know how worried your mommy-heart is, how little sleep you're getting, and they know there's nothing much they can do to change the path you're on. They can just help carry the load by being there. They worry with you, because they know, this is serious. This isn't nothing. This isn't you dealing with a child with a cold. Or even pneumonia. This could have far reaching consequences for your child, and they get that. They know that sometimes, all you need, is someone that understands. That gets it. That gets you. They're the really close friends. The friends you know will always be there for you.

The type of reaction that I do mind, are those that ignores the issue, or minimise it. Please, don't ignore it. Don't go on as if you're not aware of anything. It creates the impression that you could care less. Or don't make me feel as if I shouldn't worry about my son. Don't tell me it'll be fine, when you yourself, do not know that. Don't tell me I'm stressing over nothing. Don't tell me my feelings are wrong/stupid/unnecessary/over the top when you haven't put yourself in my shoes.

So what is it like to be in my shoes? Well, Monkeyman has come up to me tonight, after sitting down on the couch for a long while, thus not playing, tummy filled with dinner, and told me "Mommy, my head is filled with noise" (In Afr: Mamma, my kop raas). It made me smile, of course, but alarmbells were immediately going off. Because, as he explained thereafter, his head is spinning. Dizzyness. It's a symptom of Pulmonary Hypertension. That's how it is like, in my shoes. Your heart skips a beat everytime he says his heart is beating too hard (and even more so when you can see it with the naked eye). Or when he says he doesn't feel well. Or when he says no thank you when you ask him if he wants to come and play something with you. Because he's too tired and wants to rather just lay down. Looking at his little face, your heart contracts in fear that this thing could potentially be a killer. What if the cardiologist is wrong, and his disease is futher along than she believes? She did admit that his symptoms is worrying her. And I didn't even tell her all the symptoms, because at that stage, I didn't realise they were symptoms.

So ya, tell a mommy who's son was recently diagnosed with an extremely rare heartlung disease, that it aint serious. That she doesn't need to worry. That she's stressing for nothing and should just relax and go on as normal until all the facts are revealed. Yeah. Let's see how you do that...

We had a lovely weekend! So yes, as much as we can, we do carry on with life. We went away with family and it was really nice. Good weather, albeit very very cold already. Winter came early this year. The kids still swam (in the heated pool) and I'm very proud of monkeyman! For the first time ever, he decided to swim away from the stairs, on his own!! He didn't have his wings on, but must've felt safer with the little tube around his waist. I were so surprised! He always had this extreme fear/love thing going on with swimming pools. He would be absolutely petrified of leaving the safety of the stairs, even when daddy holds him. But he loved being in the swimmingpool! Just on the stairs. Playing there, looking at the other kids' antics. Until this weekend. Somehow, he started to outgrow his fear, and decided he's going to swim into the deep water with just a little tube around him. I'm so chuffed with my little monkey!!

Some pictures of the past month:

Sisters playing together - Peanut absolutely love it when
Boeboe plays with her. Even when that means
you get handled like a little doll!

Did I mention we have a crawler? Somewhere around 9 months,
after rocking on all 4's for about a month.

Our little princess

Looking so much alike in this picture!

Big eyes, just like her siblings

Naughty little bugger, look at my teeth!

Monkeyman loving the pool stairs, as always

Our funny bunny

No, we don't underfeed him. He underfeeds himself.
But that's a post for another day.
Apart from being able to count his ribs,
I love this relaxed photo of him!

Why sit IN the boat, when you can swim UNDER the boat?

At long last!! Monkeyman swims!!!