As Christmas draws closer I’ve found myself reflecting on the last 4 years of Christmases. We have done some crazy travelling and have spent Christmas in 3 different countries in 4 years with this year being a real Zambian Christmas, with all the frills.
I lost the baby. It’s kind of sounds like I forgot where I put it. But then if you say the baby died people are bound to look at you like you got no heart. There’s no winning I suppose. When I felt the first cramps I knew it was starting. It was the beginning of the end. Again. The life that had been growing within me for the last two months was finally accepting defeat. Again. Antiphospholipid Syndrome 3 – Baby 1. It had been warning me for a while and I had tried but perhaps I didn’t try hard enough. Who knows. The polite thing to say would be to reassure me there was nothing I could have done. But who knows. This doesnt live over me haunting me, but there will always be those quiet questions that creep in unexpected. After all I didn’t push the doctor to give me the meds I knew I needed. I settled for the advice contrary to what I knew was best and here we are. I took a double dose. Along with every other tablet I could think of that might help. It didn’t. Perhaps I should have been more persistent. That first cramp confirmed the doubts I’d been having for over two weeks though.
When you think of moving or living an expat life often one of the things that comes to mind is the things you inevitably loose along the way, the friends, the familiarity, the family living close by, and of course the material stuff that eventually gets lost, stolen, destroyed in storage or if you’re lucky you’ll be able to sell it for almost nothing. It can be a sad story. Eventually you start to get less interested in making true friends because saying goodbyes are never easy, you learn to choose price over quality because who needs a 10 year guarantee when you’re not sure if you’ll even see the first year out and mostly you learn to pack light. Granted, I’m still learning that but I’m getting better as we go along. You realize that those jeans you’ve been carrying around because they cost an arm and a leg but you’ve only worn actually once, just aren’t worth the space.
Every so often I go through a big learning phase, at the moment my attention has been focused on unschooling. I said it. Yes I am aware that images of hippies running wild with dreadlocks instantly comes to your mind, or perhaps worse. I’m currently fighting off the images myself. For some reason, and I’m not sure why yet, it appeals to me. It just feels right. Maybe I am actually a closet hippie – actually speaking of which, the other day I was on pinterest (as you do!) and there were quite a few hippie inspired outfits and such, and I wondered to myself whether that was something that I thought would ever appeal to me, and I dont think it is.. I’m more of a classic, clean cut with a bit of jazz going on now and again. Maybe I’m just a hippie with a better fashion sense. What makes a hippie a hippie… is it the clothes, the highness or the mindset – can I just be one third hippie, hmmm?
Lately God has been bringing my attention to the trials we must face in life and the victory that he promises for those who persevere and believe in him. Through this process I have come to a strong belief in the truth that everything happens for a reason. I know that’s a favorite cliche, but God has really been impressing this upon my heart in a way like never before and although I am not completely there yet I can already feel the sweet freedom of realizing that God is in control of ALL things and nothing is coincidence or a stroke of luck. He is the captian of my life, our lives.
House hunting sucks balls!! The idea of it is delightful, the reality of it is awkwardly wondering around other peoples homes wondering what the etiquette is on opening the cupboards or lifting up the carpets to see what the floors are actually like. It’s all awkward. I don’t like strangers wondering my house and I don’t like wondering around strangers homes. The big, fake, cheshire smiles and nodding of heads and saying “mmmm” until you feel like you’re in a margarine commercial, all the while ferociously (but inconspicuously) pinching the husband in secret code whenever he is in arms length and then the inevitable, dreaded last words…. So do you like it? *insert eager puppy dog eyes* desperate to hear you approved of their choice of furnishings and then the old “yes, I love what you’ve done with the place! It’s… So…. *eyes dart to husband in desperation*… Charming…?” That sigh of relief as you drive out the gate all the while making sure you don’t lock eyes with the husband until you’re out of view because you know you’ll both pack out laughing. It was fun for about a day… Now it just sucks balls!
About 2 weeks ago we touched down in our home land, Africa. Its always good to be back after you’ve been away a while, familiarity is sweet. We are not sure yet how long we will be here or where to next but we are working on it… in the meantime though I’ve been using all my free time figuring out how to keep my skin hydrated in this cold, dry weather we are having in Johannesburg at the moment. If you follow me on Facebook you would have seen my post a day or two ago about RAW honey masks and the benefits, honey is seriously not just a pretty face! I go through it by the liter in my house, kind of like winnie the pooh only I use it for a lot more than just eating. I use it for just about anything, there’s very few things that honey can’t fix!