A thankful heart

It took me a long while to get to this state, this state of somewhat contentment and quietness. I have always had a problem with life changing seasons, but this shook me (and Denn) quite hard.

Elizabeth, Darling, you are truly my child, so much drama from conception. (How unfair for Daddy, who was such an independent contented baby). From hormone inbalance (and resulting treatment), UTIs, bleeding, then that best-forgotten bout of severe nausea that saw Mummy having to go for drip, to this awful symphysis pubis dysfunction and having to wear this strange contraption:


It’s such been an exciting journey. Please baby, enough drama ok? Let’s just do the rest of it with fortitude and gentleness and joyfulness.

I am thankful for:

A very loving partner who sees the worst of me, and makes me feel treasured

Supportive and indulgent parents and inlaws who drive me around, make me bird’s nest, give in to my often poor food choices and cloak me with so much everything.

Siblings (and their plus ones) from both sides who spend time accompanying, carry bags, gift awesome presents and advice, drive me places, take over work duties and just show so much interest in baby’s milestones.

Faithful Friends who uphold baby in prayer and thoughts of light and love. Your friendship nourishes my soul, from whatsapp conversations to phone calls to meet ups –  you guys know who you are – you made those unbearable first 3 months so much better. Thank you for your sustainance.

Tireless collegues at work who cover all manner of inadequacies. I am in your debt.

Attentive helpers at home, who do every thing including giving me a boost out of bed when I can’t seem to get up.

Excellent Doctors that accurately diagnose and heal, often in the nick of time. Our amazing gynae that was very sharp to pick up the hormone deficiency, saved Elizabeth when we were teeter tottering on the edge. Our tenacious family doctor, who has been our source of so much comfort and valuable advice. And our sports specialist who is unfailingly trying to make sure I can still walk in my final trimester.

There is so much to be thankful for, this special season.


A trotter or two

Daughter of mine, in the last week, it’s quite as if you just piled on the weight like a trucker. We are at 25 weeks, darling. Almost midway. I took a side profile photo today and I got quite a shock.


Wow Wee. You kicked daddy the other day, and while the both of you had fun, I assure you, my baby, that it was not comfortable for me. Please stop bouncing on my bladder, ok? It’s not a jump jump.

You are in perfect health, says your doctor. So I am mighty pleased. God is kind. And as all your fantastic aunties Rachael, Stephanie and Jingxi keep reminding me that you are wonderfully made, knitted together by God.

Mummy is however not feeling too spritely these days. I have been diagnosed to have symphysis pubis dysfunction, which makes it painful to walk or turn in bed. Today we start aggressive physio. It’s not so bad, to spend an hour twice a week getting rubbed and stretched.

Daddy has a grand plan of doing our confinement for us and wants to stay home a month with us before he leaves for the states. Oh sweetie, you will break your father’s heart when he has to leave. It’s just for 6 months anyway, and we will see him on Skype and hear his voice.

We’ll be ok. All 3 of us.

We love you so. Even if you give me  trotters for feet.


A Dramatic life

5.15 am.. The baby has finally settled down after a surprisingly fretful bladder kicking.

Today has been a funny day with new friends and old texting to check up on me and wanting to catch up. I think this is the season for me to rekindle old ties. I must have done something right, all these years to have such faithful friends.. either that or I sure know how to pick them right!

I had a chat recently with an old friend of mine, about the place we find ourselves emotionally. That at 29 (one more week!) comes a certain grounding; this obvious distaste for dramatic encounters and god knows, I have had way too much drama in my life. Stop sniggering, friends. We all know who I am talking about.

Makes me thankful, deeply for D, who showed me love was not about the dramatic highs and lows. That it is not meant to be a battle of wills or grand gestures, but that warm security in the night – that he is who he says he is, and loves the way he claims because in all these years,  he has been constant and unchanging.