Growth hurts, but so does denial

I sat before my client Beaulah, she's a real gem to call on. 
She's become a trusted friend, the older sister I never had. I held back tears as I shared where I was in my life at that moment. 

I had come to the point in this instant family, that I resented the children without remorse. I resented their father for the decision's he'd made. I resented myself for choosing these struggles.

The past week stung 

The previous Monday I sat in front of our youngest child's teacher. She was factual and direct about her concerns, almost expressionless in desperation. 
"He's failing, he doesn't concentrate for more than a minute at a time", her eyes wide with anticipation. 

I cried and cried in the car park as we left for the start of our day. The decisions his mother had made while carrying him were finally being felt. It stung like acid reflux in the chest of reality, a reminder of past mistakes every time I look into his eyes. I carried his hurt because he never chose this, neither of them did. Yet I stood crying for them, me, not their parents. Me. 

Refusing to put him onto anything strong enough to alter his personality we found a short term solution and put him on a trial of scheduled medication for concentration. We have 1 month's supply of the stuff to prove ourselves and by we, I mean him. 

The night I met Zelna

Zelna is a world reknown child therapist, psychologist and kids life coach. Her talk on assisting children found myself and dad at her workshop the same night we found out about our youngest child's concentration issues. I didn't mention the eldest, but he's snowballing his way right into 'juvie' if he carries on the way he's going. They needed help, so I wanted to start with us - because of finances that is - not because the kids weren't a priority, but perhaps if we could learn something new for a couple bucks, it would help us in the long run when they got the therapy they needed. I was beginning to lose faith that I would find the person I needed to assist with the therapy I wanted for them on the financial terms we could afford. 

Beaulah listened with her eyes as she always does. She is so kind and caring this earth angel friend of mine. 

"I've built a wall Beaulah", I said, "I can't imagine smiling, laughing or caring for them anymore. I've checked out!"

I had shared with her how our meeting with Zelna had brought about a change of perspective in me, how it had softened my hardened heart and made me realise that my walls needed to come down, not just for the kids but for my own sanity. 

The only way out of this mess, would be to go back to where I started. Open my arms, open my heart, forgive and shine my light.
"Do what you do well with your children", Zelna had advised, and so I decided to share my gifts and talents with them and let them back into my world. 

My world had peace once. It had transparency and joy. Somewhere along the line the walls had become so high that I couldn't see my own light. 

Beaulah continued to listen, her kind words and tender advice echoed my hearts desires for laughter and serenity to be returned to our home. "It starts with you, your time with them, your one on one moments together", she explained, "you just need love, share your time and let those walls come down. These are the moment's that will not only make the difference now, but will be treasured forever!"

Yes, I felt guilty. I felt like I'd forgotten how to love to the point of being blind to what was really needed in our home. My maternal instincts, my humanity and my authentic self had flown out the window because of my anger and resentment, twisting a vine of animosity around my heart and suffocating my soul. 

Beaulah smiles at me and whispers, "If anyone can love those children the way they need to be loved, it's you!" And I smiled back because I knew she was right. 

We have since found a therapist and the children will commence emotional support and play therapy within the next 2 weeks. Anything can happen when you want it badly enough, and all I want for them is more than they will know. 

All this baby babble

A typical day in my life finds me on the phone to my mother at least once, let me elaborate, a minimum of once! The distance between means nothing when we're constantly on the phone, although meet up's and dinner dates are left for special occasions. 

So today during a typical chit chat and small talk about the weather and work and life, she brings up (wait for it) babies, pregnancy, marriage and of course my biological clock which (as per my last post) is apparently working overtime. 

"Just take the plunge", she said

As we discussed my meltdown (see the last post about the Jeep) I found myself listening to a woman who, for the lack of better judgement encouraged me to terminate a teenage pregnancy, now tell me to just have a baby. You know, just have one and not think about the consequences. 

Now my mom has always been my role model, but this left me feeling quite stumped. Should I be praising her for the sound advice or should I be mad at the irresponsibility of the notion. 

Everything is about babies these days. The kids and I went to go see a puppy and when I told them I had a surprise, the eldest says, "I hope it's a baby sister." 

Then last week I went to a client who asked if I was pregnant, I assured her that my IBS was in full force that day. 

Following that it's just been one thing after the next, the children can't stop hugging and kissing me and people keep joking with me that it's time for me to get married and have kids. 

So is this a societal pressure or perhaps the Universe poking fun at me? 

Broody, Guilty, Mad

Since I took on this instant family feat, everyone has been a critic. 
My own father brazenly chirped in the beginning that I had chosen this life and that I should live with it. Clearly he had forgotten that he took on my mother who had 3 young boys when she married him. 

So I haven't been honest about something, yep, I have a dirty secret.
Seeing as this is a nameless, faceless blog, I'm happy to release my burdens to the world without any real repercussions. 

Broody - Prima Donna Me 

So I never thought I'd say this but I offered to put a child to sleep, rock him to be exact, while at a braai with friends. The baby was a stranger, so were his parents. But, I offered. Offered. Seeing that we're being honest with each other, let me tell you that I just wanted to feel what it was like to entirely be in the moment of inconvenient motherhood - and I think I'm ready, really ready for a child of my own.

Ask me a year ago and I would have told you that broodiness is natures way of tricking you into conceiving a child - can you say jaded, but the reason will follow. There I stood smiling like the world had just blessed me with a thousand gifts of emotional bliss. His little head rested on the bend of my forearm as I gently swayed him to sleep, rhythmically tapping on his bum and humming ever so quietly to myself. Perhaps a neon sign had erected itself above my head, as a stranger at the braai yelled over to me, "Broody aren't you!" 
I was crushed that I had been caught out while relishing in private, and yet there it was for all to see, quite publicly it seems. (Note to self: Work on poker face) 

Previously, there was a very palpable annoyance that I experienced when it came to the challenge of putting a child to sleep. I'm sure there are many parents out there scoffing as they read this, thinking "My God, she's got NO idea what it's like to accept that challenge at 01:30 am after 2 hours of sleep!" and maybe they're right. But, right now, I'm yearning for this, albeit the serious guilt, remorse, sadness and a hint of anger I feel about the following dirty secret.

Guilty - My dirty secret

What I haven't told you is that daddy and I met 16 years ago. He was my first love and I was his. I didn't know then what I know now. Firstly that he reciprocated the cocktail of (slightly obsessed) emotion that I felt for him and secondly that we would share the next 16 years together, in one way or another.

How could I have known, I was 17, as ignorant as they came and he had a reputation as a player. Such a "hardcore" reputation that it only dawned on me 8 months ago when we found each other again and recommitted ourselves to a future together that I realised (DUH!) that I was his first - you know - his first, first! Not much street cred there, how could I have been so naive and immature.

I had been so stupid, 16 years have passed. We had enjoyed fleeting moments, club hook up's and the occasional rendezvous over the next 7 years that followed. He had settled down (sorta) after being told that 4 months into his new relationship that he was going to be a dad. I won't lie, I was gutted. A couple of months earlier we had talked about a future. He wanted us to start fresh, his concerns over this new love of his worried him. He had seen the warning signs and chose to ignore them, he confided in me. 

We had discussed his worries and while I was trying to be supportive and neutral in my approach (I mean I didn't want to influence his future) I decided to encourage him to follow his heart - and he did, straight into her arms. 
In turn I endured multiple failed relationships, two failed engagements and a whole lot of heartache. 

Fast forward and here we are, with 2 children in tow. He chose me again. 
"It was always you", he had confessed 8 months ago. Words that lead me to realise it was in fact, always him too. 

So what's the dirty secret? Well, daddy and I were so crazy deep in love when we met, back when we were teens, that we failed to protect ourselves or at least take precautionary measures while doing the funky monkey - and just like that, we were pregnant. 

It was a blur, the kind of blur that one experiences when really, really traumatised. This was a big deal for a Christian girl to handle and believe me my mother took it better than expected, while my father to this day, doesn't know the truth. 

I remember wanting to just press the reset button on my life. I was the girl with the player boyfriend remember? What kind of life would this mean for me? I was the girl with the stellar future, the one going places. In my mind he was the player that was just in this for the ride. I had to press reset. 

Daddy had gone out and bought himself a cigar when I told him the news. I can't remember telling him, I just remember going for a scan with him and seeing that tiny little bean on the screen. I was too scared to be happy and when I felt compelled to join him in his happiness I felt guilty, after all, I had done a terrible thing. A thing that my very own mother had threatened me with my life with for years and years before. As mentioned, my mother had 3 kids of her own by the time she was 21. I had decided that it was a life that I couldn't handle, I was a child myself when I look back, so how I made that decision quickly is beyond me. 

Perhaps a part of me knew I was too stunted to handle the truth. After I terminated the pregnancy at 7 weeks, ironically at the same hospital I was born in, daddy went on a self destruct mission which included a life of drugs, alcohol, nightclubs and loose women. We never lost touch for the 7 years after that, he was my constant. I know everything about his sordid past and he knows about mine - it is the epitome of acceptance and purity. The epitome of friendship. 

Many people ask why we broke up in the first place. Well my dear readers, it is because we were both too young to commit, in short he and I were unfaithful to each other, both dealing with some very grown up emotions and hurt each other in the most brutal way - a way that fueled drunken nights, hardened hearts and the most bitter of associations of each other, coupled with a very obvious and tangible love and attraction that is still there all these years later. 

My dirty secret is knowing that we would have had a 15 year old child. A child that was made of the purest, most innocent love, a love that has clearly stood the test of time. Here I am raising his children with a woman who tricked him (by her own admission) into pregnancy and then drank throughout both, terminating one in between. Is this my karma or his? Is this God's timing or just the consequence of a poor decision. 

Mad - Who would have known.

Every time someone asked me if I regretted my decision to terminate I denied it. I denied it because it didn't matter, I denied it because I had a future ahead of me that didn't include my baby daddy. My little heavenly soul is taken care of. A couple of years ago an ex of mine suffered a heart attack and passed away in his early thirties, taken too soon from his family a year or so after our break up. His sister contacted me at the beginning of 2014 with a spiritual message she had received from him. She had never known of my teenage pregnancy and told me that her brother wanted me to know that he was with "the baby" and queried whether him and I had conceived. I knew exactly what she was referring to.

It took me many years to get to the point that I could talk about it, now I just want to help the youth of today with these decisions, educate them on being 'safe'.  Have I screwed up or have I screwed up - wow! The regret I feel is heavy, it weighs on my heart and squeezes my soul. Now, more than ever. 

It could have worked I guess, perhaps it would have been to our detriment? Perhaps my greatest guilt comes from not knowing how this would have all turned out. Now I'm raising two young children from another woman with a man who was always meant to be mine. Is this my punishment? God, I want a child of my own. You know my heart, my hurts and my hatred for the decisions I've made. Now that terminated pregnancy matters, it matters now because we're back together, it matters more now than I ever thought it would. 


Maybe one day


We sat together at a restaurant table recently, the kids had just returned from the jungle gyms for a sip of apple juice. An older woman sat across from us commends daddy on his strong genes.

 "Gosh you have beautiful boys" she says "perhaps you should tell mommy it's time to have a little girl" she smiles suggestively at me.  "We're working on it", daddy says, and he squeezes my hand under the table. 

Life over the last 8 months, has been the sweetest and most bitter pill to swallow. My turn will come, I'm here, we're in this together.

I may as well accept the beautiful mess I am inside, we have so much history and so much to look forward to.