Skip to main content

It's been a while (again)

The thing about neglecting one's blog is that a day of 'I'll blog tomorrow' turns into weeks of it and before you know it you realise that it's been over a year, yip, an entire 12 months since you clicked on 'new post' and actually did something about it. And, well, before you have time to get completely overwhelmed by what to post and how to post it, you just dive on in and give it a go. This explains the past two long sentences – I have no idea where I'm going with this. So bear with me...

I guess a good place to start is to set the scene. Unlike the majority of last year's posts, this one is not being written by a woman working 60-hour weeks, living for wine o' clock and popping schedule 5 nerve blockers like smarties. This is, in fact, being written by a woman with a bionic spine and a baby bump. Yes, you read that correctly. And, yes, I will explain.


First, let's talk titanium and 'car parts'
On the 6th of November last year I was being wheeled into theater amid visions of sparkly tap-dancing unicorns courtesy of a lovely nurse and her answer to 'Please, I'm very nervous, I've never had surgery before, please dope me up thoroughly?' I was being wheeled in so that I could have an artificial disc replacement in my lower lumbar spine (level L5/S1 to be precise). Basically, just like a car part, mine was broken and it was being replaced by a magician of a 'mechanic', Dr Louis Nel Jr. After a few hours of surgery, a couple of days in ICU and 3 days in a general ward – making friends with fellow titanium-enhanced peeps – I was sent home to spend 8 weeks recovering (a.k.a to binge watch series). And, haven't needed to walk around with an ice pack in my broeks ever since.

Now, let's talk pulling the goalie... 
and peeing on a stick. Apologies for the lack of finesse and ladylike prose but if there is one thing that building a person has taught me, it's that pregnancy is a messy business. Remarkably, life-alteringly "How can I love someone I haven't met yet this much already?" miraculous but oh-so-messy – I mean, there's a reason I know know how to spell hemorrhoids. Nuff said. 

So, by pulling the goalie I mean relegating contraception to the bench and by, peeing on a stick, I mean just that, except it wasn't really a stick, it was a digital Clear Blue pregnancy test and it alerted hubby and I to the fact that we were 3+ weeks pregnant. The '+' is important because the blood test, taken a couple of days later, revealed that we were, in fact, almost 6 weeks along. Our due date is the 10th of January, which is pretty amusing because when we first spoke about combining our genetic material to create a 'mini-us' hubby insisted that – and I quote – "We will not have a December/Jan baby." This previous sentence highlights, quite beautifully, two things I have always believed – God's timing is perfect* and He has a sense of humour*.

*A full explanation of these statements is a blog post all on its own, so perhaps it's best to simply end, for today, with the cliff hanger device favoured by la-la land – To be continued...



Comments

Nomali Cele said…
I'm such a creeper! I came here because I was reading Cup of Jo and thought 'hey, isn't my old boss having a baby? Didn't she have blog too?' and here we are. The surgery sound so scary. I'm glad you're pain-free now and doing great.

You are having a goat baby!!! Goats are the best people. Ugh. They're going to love you so thoroughly, be super-funny/smart and be the shaddiest, independent spirit with like, decisiveness/stubbornness.

Congrats, again.

Popular posts from this blog

True story

Context: My 18-year-old cousin has just moved in with hubby and I for a couple of months while she finds her feet in Jozi. Just had this exchange with her via Blackberry Messenger... Me: Hey cuz. You home for dinner tonight? Cuz: Going for coffee with [insert potential bf name here] at six so I'll grab a bite to eat while I'm out. But thanks for checking beauty queen [smiley face] Me: Flattery will get you everywhere. Have fun. Cuz: What's flaterry ? (yip, spelt just like that) Me: Please tell me you're kidding?! Cuz: No I'm serious Me: [once I've picked my jaw off the floor in disbelief] To flatter someone is to compliment, say something nice. Flattery is usually used as a tool by someone to get summing. And that's the end of today's English lesson. Cuz: Thanks [smiley face] ha ha [ another smiley face] no one in the office knew what it meant either  Note to the education system – just an idea, but maybe you should let the kids read actual, made of

I had one of those mom-meets-mad-woman moments yesterday...

  You know, one of those moments where mom guilt and other mom judgement meet to sucker punch you in the parental gut while you do your darndest to smile and nod and be graciously ‘grown up’? One of those moments.  Allow me to elaborate… There I was chatting away merrily to a mom I hardly know at a birthday party when suddenly it happened – “Oh. Is that how she crawls ?” she said. “Um, yeah. We call it a ‘kershuffle’, half crawl, half bum shuffle,” I said. ‘Other mom’ kept quiet for a moment, observed my kershuffler closely, frowned, an uber concerned frown, and said (in a super serious, head mistress meets carb-phobic dietician tone) “You do know how important crawling is, hey? You should really do something about it.” Um. Yeah. The sarcasm cometh… Do I know how important crawling is? No. No. Of course I don’t. I’m totally 100% okay with the fact that my first born, the love of my life, has short-circuited a major developmental milestone and gets judge

Abusing plastic to get the 'natural look'

I'm the kinda girl who falls for the 'free gift with purchase' promo every time. Even though I know that I'll never use the (not small enough to be a clutch/ not big enough to be a tote ) silly coloured bag that's free with your purchase of two or more [insert brand here] products one of which must be an (over-priced, you're SO paying for the pacakaging) skincare product scribbled sneakily in small baby pink italic print. I can't resist a freebie and get very agitated when a brand I loyally spend my hard earned moolah on month after month refuses to offer a freebie-type incentive, not even at Christmas... Yip, you read that correctly, not even at Christmas – the time of year that the bigwigs in retail rub their Gucci-wearing paws together in glee as they think of new and improved ways to make you spend your bonus quicker than I can wolf down a cupcake.  I LOVE Bobbi Brown cosmetics... really, discovering the shimmer brick compact and the SPF-15, wa