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July 2018

storm-pass

I am going to be completely honest with you:

I have not had the easiest year so far when it comes to motherhood.

Other areas are all going well, but this mothering gig has been a lot tougher than usual the last few months.

Whether it was the start of a new school year (and for my youngest that meant getting used to 5 days a week away from mum) or the fact that we had just returned from a 4 week holiday  trip back to South Africa, living out of suitcases and traveling from pillar to post or maybe just a random turn of events, both my children hit a big wobbly.

For my oldest that meant a severe bout of anxiety over a variety of things, even though he has always been my easy-going adventurer that didn’t know the meaning of the word fear. My sleep was interrupted several times each night as he struggled with nightmares and falling asleep again afterwards.

My darling youngest returned to the tornado-like temper meltdowns he had when he was two. We all bore the brunt of his angry outbursts, copped an enormous amount of verbal abuse and had to tread on eggshells constantly.

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comfort-pregnancy-loss

Isn’t it funny how one little call can change so much?

A few weeks ago, I got a call I didn’t anticipate, letting me know that two little embryos, two little lives my husband and I had created, had been stripped of their life. The babies we wanted to love and cherish every moment of their lives were no longer alive. They were gone before we even had a chance to name them.
The heart that had swelled with more love than I ever imagined possible for little cells multiplying in my womb sunk deep within me. I had been praying. I trusted in God to bring the babies safely into my arms. But in His wisdom, He called them to Himself instead.
When I had calmed myself, I texted a dear friend and told her that my little ones were no longer on this earth. Her response stopped me in my tracks. 

“Oh no,” she wrote, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

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at-home-role

In my household we’ve undergone a change in our previous roles.

At this point my husband’s main duty is to be the stay-at-home parent. My main duty is being the full-time student or as I’ve been treating it, the away-parent.

NGL, I totally struggled with this. My husband had completed a lengthy and arduous degree and had been applying for work to no avail. It felt right to be ‘my turn’ to dip into some studies. To indulge in some learning and career interests of my own. I thought this would be a welcome relief.

However, I continued to carry the mental load.

Well, still continue. I struggle not to think about the things the kids need to get done after school, what needs to be done at home, which social events are forthcoming with preparations needed, and things the kids are going through that I want to check up on.

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how-many-lists

Recently my husband and I were fortunate enough to have the grandparents here.

We were able to leave the boys with them, while we slipped away for three blissful, child-free days. Oh, and how indulgent that was. No fighting, no yelling, nobody to feed and put to bed, lazy late morning lie-in’s, time to sit down and read. Heaven on earth. It was in fact, the longest I have ever left my boys behind. It was a sobering thought and to be quite honest, a bit scary.

As it goes, we left a huge amount of “notes”. The do’s and the don’ts, the what’s and the what not’s.

Just before we jumped into the car, I took out my medical aid card and handed it to my mum-in-law. “In case of emergency”, I said. But as we drove away, my mind wandered to what if it was us who ended up in an emergency? What if I never came back again? My little list of instructions made to last for a long weekend could never contain enough info for that scenario.

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