I’m pregnant….and then not….

Ok, so I had Biology in high school till matric, I loved drawing single cell organisms, but never could biology prepare me for the fact that the human body can be mysterious and strange…very, very strange.

I missed Aunt Flo, I’m never late, maybe a few days early, but never late. And when I’m late, I know the writing is on the wall. So this time I knew something was cooking.

I did an HPT…and waited…and waited…and waited…I waited for half an hour…and there was nothing, not even ONE line, never mind two. So I got this confused looked from hubby as he asked me “What does that mean?” Uhm, in all honesty, I don’t know… I have done about 8 or 9 HPT’s in my lifetime, and never before did I get a “nothing” result, most of my previous results have been 2 lines and the odd one here and there was a 1 liner, but never a “nothing”.

So I chucked the HPT in the bathroom dustbin and went to my mom’s for a visit, but when we got back home, my curiosity got the better of me, and there I was with my hand down the dustbin, digging around for the HPT…when I finally got hold of it, it was telling me a completely different story…there on the little screen where 2 very distinct pink lines….

Two pink lines are not that bad, we have talked about maybe expanding the Biekie-bunch with maybe one more…but soon the initial excitement was drowned by fears and “what if…”.

I have not yet came to a point where I can forgive myself for failing as a mother when I had to go for the D&C last year September, I don’t think I will ever be able to do so. As a mother I was suppose to protect my littlest with every inch and every part of my body and soul…and I could not do it…I failed myself and I failed the littlest.

So how will I be able to reassure myself this time around that I will not falter and fail again? How will I be able to protect when I’m not able to trust and forgive myself…the turmoil of emotions where endless and ongoing

Made an appointment with the Gynea for the following Monday. I walked into his office and sat down in front of his desk, he asked me the general “so you think you’re pregnant” questions, after which his showed me to the examination room. I walked into the room, the glare from the florescent light a bit overwhelming as I lay down on the bed and waited. The doctor came in, pulled up my shirt a bit and tucked that little blue cloth into the top of my pants. I felt the cold jelly being squirted onto my belly, a familiarity for me and my tummy. The probe was swishing around on my tummy, examining every inch of my womb…but all I was left with was a barren image….

Ok, so this is called hysterical pregnancy (just don’t know hysterical in which way), and dates as far back as Mary, Queen of England or something…. apparently this can also be described as purely psychological, and is mostly common in dogs and mice (Any further explanation needed???)

My brain told my body to prepare for something that there was nothing to prepare for. Is this my body, mind and soul rebelling?

This time around I am fine, I am really, really fine. It is just like waking up from a very realistic dream.

But I gave this a long hard thought, and maybe we should call this quits… We have two beautiful Biekies, of which we are very proud off and whom we love dearly. May I should take a moment to stop and count my blessings, be thankful for what I have and rather concentrate on that for now




THAT kind of Mom… (Consolidation post)

Yes, well apparently I am THAT kind of mom… (The kind that does numerous blog postings, saves them on her flash drive, but never get to the point where she actually posts them on her blog….)

the mom that always forgets to send the signed documentation and correspondence back to school in time;

the mom that will ALWAYS forget something (either being shoes, ok ok, mostly shoes) at someone’s house;

but most of all, I am that kind of mom that will always forget to RSVP on time…ALWAYS!

No matter how many reminders there are of the RSVP date, somehow I manage to miss them all and will only remember 2 or 3 days after the RSVP should have happened.

A week or so ago I received a phoned call from a rather distressed grandma asking whether H will be attending her grandson’s party that Saturday…and once again I realised that I forgot to RSVP…

Apparently being organised and punctual is soooo not my OCD. Sadly I do not even try and hide the fact that I am a scatter-brain (mainly due to the fact that it is quite obvious). And maybe this is reason enough for why I opted for 2 C-section rather than normal birth…(purely because I would have not been in time for the delivery)

And even though I try on various attempts to organise and sort everything, it never lasts more than 5 days before I am back at scatter-brain square 1.

Being a scatter brain is not easy, explanation set out in numerical order :

1. I rarely remember things, and for me to remember things, I need to make notes, but if I make notes, my whole desk is soon covered with sticky notes with at least 5 messages scribbled onto each…

2. I talk gibberish, cause my brain works way faster than my mouth so sentences are formed in my head at double the speed they leave my mouth, and the more excited I get, the faster I talk, the less the other person can understand

3. My thoughts get side-tracked in an instant

4. Insomnia is basically my best friend, I will lay awake at night till early hours of the morning cause I can not get my brain to stand still, take a breath, calm down and switch off. I will never be able to fall asleep in dead quiet, either the TV or the radio should be on for me to be able to sleep (to distract my brain from over-thinking, I guess)

Oh well, anyway

A bit a Biekie, a whole lot of boy….

My Bieki-baba turned 6! As I reflect back on these past 6 years, it is amazing to see where we came from and where we are today.

Six years ago, heavy pregnant, waddling like a duck, I was scared to death of what lay ahead for us as new parents. Not knowing what the future hold was even scarier than any theme-park ride I could ever imagine! Thoughts ran through my head, thoughts like “Will we survive”, and more important…“will the baby survive!”. But we took parenthood step by step, faced each challenge as it came, overcame it and survived…and yes…the baby stayed alive as well. We got through teething, crawling, walking, potty training, bottle weaning, stitches and Emergency Rooms. We celebrated each new accomplishment with heaps of pride and joy.

And looking back, these past 6 years have been the best time of my life. Who ever though such a little person can teach you so much!

We allowed H to decide what he wanted for his birthday, and the instructions were plain and simple : A party at the Spur and a lucky packet filled with toys for a present. And said instructions were carefully adhered to.

We organised a Spur birthday party for him and a few friends, and granddad was his hero when he showed up with a big bag filled to the brim with lucky packets, 24 lucky packets to be precise. Needless to say, my house is littered with plastic lucky packet toys, which can be found in every nook and cranny. He even took a few lucky packets to school as part of his lunch….

Congratulations with your 6th birthday my precious littlest Biekie, thank you for being part of our lives, for enriching our lives with love, joy and happiness, thank you for the lessons you taught us as parents. And we are looking forward to many more years to come!

We also recently celebrated my 31st birthday…damm… 3 1…. (please note that I do not feel 31, and no, I do not feel old or wish to refer to myself as old)

As part of the birthday celebration, hubby bought me the book “Bloom : Finding beauty in the unexpected”. I started reading the blog of Kelle Hampton (Enjoying the small things) when her birth story post of Nella spread like wild fire. Whilst reading the post, I bowled my eyes out; I could literally feel every single strand of raw emotion ripping through me. I fell in love with the Blog, I await each blog posting with great anticipation, follow it like there is no tomorrow… It feels like this blog became a household name for me, the “I’ve know her for years’ type of reaction. But getting back to the book, I’m reading it very, very slow, only a few pages at a time, savouring each moment, each phrase, each paragraph. I know I will read the book for a second time (and maybe a third) just to make sure that I did not miss anything, the smallest piece of detail.

 

I kind off like to idea of being 31, it feel so grown-up’ish, but instead of settling into a life that most woman my age does, I still do prefer sitting outside in the sandpit, playing with the littlest, digging holes and building bridges in the sand. I still prefer to rather jump with them on the jumping castle, doing handstands and trying my luck on H’s skateboard (which I should rather NOT be doing, I just might brake something).

With all the hustle and bustle of today’s life, escaping to being carefree is sometimes necessary, just to remind us how fun life can actually be, cause if you don’t do it…that is when you get old, that is when you forget how to live life, that is when you forget to enjoy the small things in life