Poep

I was sitting on the kitchen floor with Graeme within my vicinity and i needed to poep, as one does every now and then.

I looked around, the coast was clear, every one was out of ear shot besides the toddler, but its not like he cares about such things.

So I let my little one out and Graeme turns to look at me with a sparkle in his eye.

Graeme: “Mommy pooo – p”

Me: “Yes, shhhhhh”

Graeme: ”Mommy pooo – p” Getting louder.

Me: “Yes, Quite now.”

Graeme: ”Mommy pooo – p!!!!” Much louder.

Me: “Yes Graeme I poeped.”

Graeme just nods, smiles and goes back to whatever he was busy with in the first place.

Now really was that necessary??

*Poep is South African Slang for fart*

Fetch it!

Amy is our little Jack Russel. She is a pure bred hunter, will catch everything that moves. She has caught rats, snakes, mice and her favourite moths.

Last night she was in the laundry hovering around the washing machine, no matter how much I called she would not leave it. Then the other Jack Russel, Ice, joined her I knew this wasn’t a moth she was after.

I moved the veggie rack out of the way, still she was around the washing machine. So I pulled the washing machine out carefully, she ran behind and around it. Still could not see anything.

Then I called Bearn to come help me lift it to see if anything was under the machine. She went under sniffing like crazy but still nothing was found. Bearn left again after not finding anything of interest.

Looking around the machine I was thinking if I see a pair of eyes looking at me I will poop my pants. Yet I still look.

I, for some reason, decided to look in the machine. Then saw that you can see the inside of the machine just above the rim. There was a pair of eyes staring at me and a tail hanging over the edge of the drum.

I did poop my pants and screamed for Bearn! He came back and we tilted the machine and pushed it out with the broom handle.

Poor rat didn’t stand a chance. Ice and Amy each wanted a bit of it.

The funny and the sad.

On Saturday I had 2 birthday parties scheduled. Off I go to the first which was in the Northern Suburbs, so about a 30 minute drive from me.

Starting on the sad. Just as I am leaving town there is a little beggar boy at the robot. I had bought Graeme a packet of biscuits and left them in the chubby hole for when ever he needed silencing. I figured this child needed them a lot more than Graeme did, and its not like Graeme would even know they are gone. I waved the pack at him to come get them, as he got closer I could see all his ribs through the extra stretched neck hole of his t-shirt. He walked away eating the biscuits like he had not eaten in days and this was his first ‘meal’. This broke my heart, I literally had tears running down my face. Here I was driving to parties with presents in the boot when this kid was starving. I know I can’t save the world, just pulled on a nerve – I can do my little bit though. I did pop a mini mention to Graeme that he must be grateful for what he has. 

Driving on I got over my moment and headed to the first party and then on to the funny. Pull into the street and see all the balloons and little kids going in, don’t know any of them, but figure they must be from school. Note I have been to the house before. I see they have changed the front of the house, the garden. Oh I would also like to add that all the houses in this street look exactly the same. I go in and at the front door I am greated by an Afrikaans man who lets me in, I thought this a bit odd. Once inside I look around and the whole house has changed, as in even the furniture. I look over at a baby picture on the wall and its not Casandra. Then a Lady comes up to me, and Asks what my little boy’s name is. Then says we dont know any Graeme’s. I quickly said sorry and walked out the door.  And went 13 houses up. Sigh. 

Graeme at the correct party down the road. Can you guess the theme. 

Emergency trip

On Saturday Bearn bought himself some beers and packed them into the fridge. A little while later I went in to get some thing out of the fridge and one came flying out at me.

Broken glass every where and the house now smelt like a brewery, Bearn grabbed the child and I started cleaning. We got all the big pieces up. There were hundreds of little shards. I figured that they would all stick to a towel, so clever me mopped up the last of the beer and glass with the towel.

We had people coming over for said beer so I put the towel in a neat little ball in the corner, where it was forgotten for then.

Sunday I started on the washing and sort it into neat piles and in the towel goes into the washing machine.

A little while later Graeme came to me holding up his foot, and instantly I knew. Grabbed him and took him to Bearn to pin down and I pulled a teeny tiny piece of glass from under his foot.

To distract Graeme I lay on my stomach on the bed biting and tickling him, but I was at a funny angle so I pulled my knee down to straighten my leg and as I did so I felt sudden sharp pain in my knee.

I quickly sat up and saw a gapping hole on my knee. Ok it was about 3 cm all round.  I shouted for Bearn to help me because I had been cut by a piece of glass. <I just want to say his initial though was that that I had cut myself on Graeme’s tiny piece of glass and was kicking up a fuss.>

He looked at my knee and we decided I would need a stitch as it was deep and on the knee, being a bendy bit of the body and all. I stuck a ball of cotton wool and a plaster on.

Off I went to the hospital – where I was visiting some one any way-. By the time I saw a sister to assess if it needed  said stitch/es. By the time she looked at it, it had sealed itself up ever so nicely, sigh. She said it was a surface wound and I had to explain that it was rather deep 20 minutes earlier.

The sister cleaned my tiny scratch up and told me she would not charge me with a slight hint of a giggle and a look of shame she just wanted attention.

Why the Porché??

On Friday when driving home after seeing the latest Sparkly Vampire movie with my friend. I had this bad feeling as soon as I got in the car.

I have been driving for just over a year now and nothing bad has happened. I have not been any where near being in an accident, besides the once and that was not my fault as he was on the wrong side of the road.

This is a sum up of what happened:

I all of a sudden saw a big black Porché 4×4 in front of me at the robot. I slammed on brakes and hoped like shit I did not touch him, it did not feel like I did. Until I saw him move forward and his car door open I started shaking. Quickly slid my shoes on and got out of the car.

Me: “I am so sorry.”

Porché man: “Did you not see me?”

Me: “No, I am so sorry.”

I kept thinking I should give him some form of details. Then he looked at the bumper of his car, which had a 2cm white line on it.

Me: ” I am so sorry.”

Porché man: ” It’s a brand new car. “

Me: “I am sorry.”

Porché man: “Ag.”

Flapped his hand at the car and got back in and drove away.

Clearly in a difficult situation I lose all ability to speak and look like a complete idiot.

Never leave the cream out

The cream really was well out of reach, well so I thought. 

This does no justice for the amount of cream that was smothered in his hair. (Do excuse the cleavage – will edit it out later)

You can see the earbud he ‘painted’ with too.

 

 

 

Walks

There is a little park up the road that Graeme and I have started going to often. This particular day I decided that I would tak bread to feed the birds, and they would not come to us they stayed by the nannies. Of course until we left the spot to play on the jungle gym. So we went back quickly and Graeme tried to feed the birds.

Oh and he wants to pet one, really badly.

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Secret Club

Before I had my D&C I did not realise how many people had miscarriages and D&Cs and just how common it really is.

I was only invited in the secret club once I had my D&C and honestly I am sure we would all prefer if this club did not exist. I don’t really want to belong to this club as things like this happen to other people. But the women who are part of it are so understanding and warm. It has helped the healing process hugely to have people to talk to who understand.

I am part of a forum that is for women who are trying to conceive (be it via the conventional route, with a little help or with adoption), are with a bump or already have hooligans of their own.  I started chatting on the thread appropriate for my due date from when I was about 5 weeks. When I found out that the baby had died and I needed a D&C, I went on and told the group I would be leaving the little clique. I then noticed a thread that I had always seen but of course I always thought it would never have any relevance to me (after all I had halready had a successful pregnancy), “The pregnancy after D&C” thread. I joined this thread in the hope of some help or support and I have ‘met’ an amazing bunch of women.

Only one of my friends has had D&Cs (that I was aware of), I was aware that she had about 4 of them but all of this happened before I had met her so the circumstances surrounding them were not really discussed: the topic never arose. She was one of the first people I phoned as I knew she would have advice and tell me what to expect and really there wasn’t any one else I could think of at the time.  She lost 2 of the babies at 5 weeks, one at 8 weeks and one at 15 weeks. Subsequently we have had a few deep and meaningful conversations and I am sure it has brought us closer as friends as we now share a new common ground.

I have slowly started finding out about about more people who have had D&Cs. I bumped into a mommy that I met while I was pregnant and see on a fairly regular basis. She wasn’t aware of what had happened and asked how I was feeling (symptom wise). After I told her we got talking and it turns out she’s had 3 miscarriages. She also commented on how common it is.

I think one of the reasons people do not talk about miscarriages is because a miscarriage, unlike the death of a loved one where you are allowed to show your emotions and validate them in the form of a physical burial, is a burial of a small part of the heart. A quiet, unspoken death, which too, needs to be grieved and mourned. For me it was more of what could have been and what little world I had planned in my head.

You really do not realise how common it is until it happens to you – and really I hope it never does.

We’ve been counted

As most South Africans know the national census is running at the moment.

I first heard that they would be doing the rounds on the radio. Stating that we should let the census official into our homes. I saw a slight, never mind a Large flaw in this plan. Any potential robber/assailant/serail killer could dress up as one of their officials and well done they are in your home. Well it did not take long for an opportunist to cotton on to this and there was an armed robbery after trusting people let the ‘official’ into their home.

I have no problem with completing the census as I understand that it is for the development of the country, but sorry I am not going to let any one into my home with or without ID. So when the lady rang my bell I told a white lie and said that my husband was out with the house keys and I had no way of opening the front gate, I could only let her in the big gate. Little lie in the sense that husband dear did have said keys but I could open the gate with a button on the wall. But she was happy with this and gave me the form and said she would fetch it tomorrow night.

I filled the form out. Somethings are puzzling and some are just sad.

I was a bit annoyed that they did not ask about uncompleted education, I have 4 modules left. Its almost done! I want some acknowledgement, dammit!

Physical health they ask if the members can do things like walk, talk, see, hear, etc. Um my child is 17months old. I have no idea how well he can talk yet nor how good his memory is. Sure they are pretty average for a toddler, but I am sure “Galoopa da” would not be effective communication as of yet. (He can say about 25/30 words so far.)

At the very end of the census they ask about deceased members of the household, sure thats not that abnormal. But the part where they say if there are more than 8 deaths in the last 12 months use a second form. What kind of tragedy must a household have gone through for more than 8 people to have died in less than a year?

Evacuation

Tuesday after the going to the OBGYN and getting the news we went up to the 8th floor to do the pre-admissions. Nothing exciting, all pretty routine. I was told the standard no eating or drinking after 12 and to check in the next morning by 6:30am.

So up at 5:30 to do my scrub down with stuff that smelt like cutex-remover. Get the snuggly boy out of bed and dressed and off we head to the hospital.

Once there I spent about 30 minutes trying to finish the check in process before I am told to go up to floor 11. The Sister took me through to my ward but unfortunately Graeme could come in so Bearn took him home for the morning.

I waited for a Sister to come do the final prep. At about 8:30 I was wheeled down to surgery, where I got asked for the 5th time if I had crowns or dentures… Do I look like I may?

Once in theater they started looking for a vein as they normally do, I should really put up a prize for those who can find it first time. The Anesthetist finally got it in and told me I would start feeling woozy pretty soon, I thought “Nah, this is having no effect on me.” Until the room started bouncing and jiggling and I was gone.

I woke up in recovery with the worst period type pains. Then had to lie there for a while to wake up all the way before going back to the ward.

The woman opposite me was already out of theater and back in the ward. All friendly she asks if I also had the Marena inserted. No way of saying what I had done lightly, so I told her I had a D&C done because there was no heartbeat at 9 weeks.  Very observantly she points out I look a little sad. At this point I tried to snuggle as low into the sheets as possible at this point to try avoid any further conversation.

I asked the Sister if I could please get dressed, as I felt rather uncomfortable. She says I may, but not allowed to leave yet. The lady opposite me receives a phone call. From what I could gather it is her ex of sorts and he was trying to out himself and she is trying to calm him down. She also lets out that she had funny tissue removed at the same time. She eventually hangs up and tells the Sisters that she must go now. Finally crazy lady leaves, leaving behind not so happy Sisters as she should have stayed longer.

I asked the Sister if I could go get a magazine while I wait for Bearn and to be discharged. She allows me to and gives me my script to fill at the same time. The start of the walk was okish, by the time I was standing at the pharmacy I wanted to die. The pharmacist can see this and tells me to sit while she gets the meds. Meds done and bought my magazine, so I waddle back up to the ward to wait.

Bearn gets there basically the same time as I do. Get my stuff and check out.

Once home I had the most awesome sarmie that Bearn bought from the deli up the road and snuggled down for a well deserved 3 hour nap.