Still no closer to a decision. Right now I’m just trying to survive this ‘morning’ sickness which seems to have taken over my life. I was chatting to a good friend of mine and she said it’s really interesting hearing about pregnancy and that no one ever tells you what it really FEELS like…I guess it is really different for different women, but my real life experience is not the “oh I feel tired and sick but I’m so blessed this is such a miracle” you read about online. And as this is an unplanned pregnancy it’s even less “omg congratulations” and more “omg what am I going to do” which creates a lot of anxiety and tension, which in turn doesn’t help any of the symptoms.

So I was saying how quickly it all hits. I did the test and in the last two weeks my entire being has just morphed…and it feels like an overnight thing! You think pregnancy is slow?? HAH! I had no idea. It has hit like a ton of bricks. Last week all I could see on the scan was a little black oval because the embryo is too small to see; this week I’m told my baby will have developed a heart beat. My boobs are still growing at an alarming rate. I was pretty buxom to start with so I’m beginning to wonder if these mammoth mammaries might need their own area code soon. I have started eating meat like a starved T-rex…this is clearly my partner’s child and not mine at all. I have not eaten biltong AT ALL in over 10 years and although I’ve had a bite of beef sausage or mince on the very rare occasion, it made me more sick than happy. I’m having supper with this friend tonight and she asked me what I could stomach for supper…Spaghetti Bolognese. She nearly died laughing.

It’s kind of weird but I’m enjoying this physical experience. Not in that I enjoy feeling so sick etc, but in that I am finding it highly amusing. I am fascinated by it as I am by most medical things…I really should have been a doctor or research scientist of some sort.
On the other hand it still feels unreal. I keep trying to picture myself with a growing belly and eventually with a mewling (or screaming and squawking) little live human in my arms. I keep trying to picture what I would do in order to financially support a child…what it would be like to feed and change and be exhausted and still have to pay the bills but also to be in awe of this little miracle, and to teach it about life and guide it in growing up. To choose food and clothes and schools. Where would I live? I really want to get my passport and bugger off to the UK and have my child there. I feel I could give it a better life in a first world country. In South Africa I’m working 3 jobs and still can’t afford to move out in to my own place. And a lot of it is because minimum wage here is shit. I also have qualifications but they mean fuck all in this country. I’ve got a nutrition diploma and a teaching diploma and I’ve been a writer for most of my life, with a few published works. But I work as a nanny and run a few of my own little side projects because I have chronic illness which isn’t even recognized in most medical facilities here and I have to somehow afford to live whilst not really being able to work a full, stressful 9-5 job. Look, I know one thing, I am incredibly resourceful. I have ALWAYS managed. And if things are falling a part a bit (or a lot) I always make a plan. It might take a little bit of sitting in a puddle of darkness and feeling sorry for myself but even whilst I do that my brain is often formulating some kind of plan which I can generally spring in to action one step at a time whilst telling the black hole to F off.

Ok, I don’t even know half of what I have written above and I don’t have the energy to re read it. I am feeling so tired and sick that I’m shaking, whilst lying in bed. I’m going to nap before work. Thanks for reading this jumble…



Was going to type one of my normal emotionally charged posts but then my mum got chatting to me again and I’m already unsure how I’ve been functioning since around noon when the exhaustion was already taking over. I literally feel like I could collapse in on myself, so here’s the short version:

I had my scan on Saturday. I am around 5 weeks, 3 days as of today. Most of the day I would cry my eyes out every time someone spoke to me, especially when talking about ‘termination’… It’s over in like 5 to 10 minutes and it’s painless…um maybe physically (and not even then really) but lets not mention the gaping emotional hole it leaves in ones being.
I had a huge fight with my partner on Saturday night about most of the stuff I ranted about no here the other day. He keeps telling little lies and when I tried to talk to him like an adult he first ignored me, then went into victim mode and then tried to threaten me by telling me I sound just like his ex and he left her two days later…nice handling of the situation buddy. I told him to pack his shit and leave if he was going to act like a child. And after long chats yesterday, when he kept asking why I was so off and I replied that I no longer trust him and I don’t really like this person he is showing me so I’m cutting myself off a bit because I don’t feel safe, he was really upset. And today he cried and said he doesn’t want to lose me. And then I cried and said he is already and if he doesn’t pull his shit together I have to leave because I will not allow myself to be treated like that. So here’s to hoping…but I’m not holding my breath. I’ve had enough experience in life to know how this story goes. But I suppose I am hoping he’ll prove me wrong.
The nausea has progressed to full day, all day, can’t face food….actually can’t even face water. But it’s weird. I feel so sick yet there will be one food or drink that I think of that suddenly makes me feels less ill. Then I track it down, eat/drink it and voila, I feel better…for about 30 minutes, an hour if I’m lucky. Like this morning I nearly threw up a few times but the thought of a berry smoothie made me feel better so I got one and literally gulped it down. I even slurped at the bottom 😛 Felt great and then not so great. I tried sucking on ice today which works for a bit. And Eisbein (salty pork thingy) oddly enough, because I normally only eat a bit of chicken, fish and, rarely, some bacon.
My boobs are like nearly double their size. I tried on my normal underwire bra today, and besides the sheer pain, my boobs were literally spilling out of the top, and sides, and where ever else they could escape from.
I still don’t feel any closer to making a decision and I still have a lot of mixed emotions to deal with.
I’m seeing my therapist tomorrow morning…so that should be interesting.

Right, even that was longer than expected. Good night lovely humans…this pregnant woman needs to pass out, or pee…or throw up…or all three. Isn’t pregnancy just beautiful.


Hormonal Rant

I am SO irritated lately, omg. And the person irritating me the most right now is my partner. Yes, he’s 7 years younger than me, and for the most part this doesn’t bug me. But he’s been staying with me for the last week and I am so utterly exhausted and want to scream at him…so I’m going to type it here instead:

STOP losing shit. Put your stuff in one spot so that you don’t have to keep asking me where the fucking keys are, or the plug, or have I seen your beanie. I have told you this before. Stop living in goddamn Lala Land. Everything is sooo slow. “No, sit down baby, I’ll make you tea” or “I’ll make lunch” and half an hour later your face is either stuck in your phone or you’re staring into space or godknows what. If you’re going to do something, get it done!!! If you offer me a cup of tea or to make food or whatever…then do it! Otherwise I’ll just do it myself.
Also what’s with the weird noises you randomly make, or the accents you suddenly speak in or mimicking something I’ve said or telling me to look at something and I do and it’s like, “look look look!!” as if I’m not actually fucking looking. I did these things too, when I was 6 years old. And no, I don’t like it when you suck on my chin or lick my face or poke me or won’t let me get up because you want to snuggle and you think it’s funny to stop me. I am nauseous and I am peeing like a race horse, trust me, if I want to get up, let me get up. Then yesterday it’s “want to share a smoke babe?” (yes I’ve been smoking a bit still) and I said okay, I’ll have a drag or two and then you start playing with the dogs and then you lie face down on the floor and I come in and ask if you’re still wanting to go outside and you ignore me…I figure you were pretending you passed out or some other such attention seeking drama so I walked away and went to sit in the room and resist the urge to fucking slap you because I had also JUST told you NOT to ignore me when I speak to you. I don’t understand why you do it. It’s not a lot of effort to give a simple yes or no if I ask you something. Then you eventually walk in to the room and I ask you why you were ignoring me and you say “oh I fainted”….I literally could have strangled you. And then I say to you that I know you’re talking bullshit and I’ve also told you that it fucks me off when you do this and you say you’re kidding, you didn’t really faint. I asked you what you get out of it…what payoff do you get pretending you fainted on the floor? You don’t know. Then you ask me what I’d do if you really had fainted or hurt yourself or something…I told you you’d probably die because you call wolf so many times that I’d just think you were being dramatic and attention seeking again. You seemed pretty offended but in all honesty you needed to hear it. It’s that same reason I don’t believe you when you tell me about certain injuries or how you have heart problems and you actually died for a few minutes once. I call bullshit because you look for attention a lot and I don’t really know when to take you seriously. Also, I’m pregnant. Get your fingers out your ass and start really putting in effort to get on your own two feet. I know, the job market is shit and I understand it can be difficult, but in all honesty you haven’t really been trying everything. And if I decide to keep this child you better have some kind of plan in place.

And I think that’s why I am getting so fucking irritated…because I’m realizing I need a man here. I need someone strong and grounded and can be an equal. Not some kid who eats my chin and thinks pretending to faint on the floor will get him attention. I need someone who will do things he might not like in order to get shit done. Who will sacrifice and prioritize. Who lives in reality and doesn’t offer to pay me back for cigarettes (which I only actually bought because you wanted) or to pay my friend back for the money she lent me to go for the scan tomorrow when you don’t have cent to your name. And when I ask how you plan on doing this, you say you’ll make a plan. I know you hate it and I know you feel shit for not being able to pay for things or take me out or even find a job, but you moan about it and then do nothing. BE PROACTIVE. Why do you think I run two small businesses of my own on top of au pairing every day…because I needed the money and with chronic illness I cannot work a 9-5 corporate job (never mind that I’m 28 with no degree). You’re good with kids, offer to babysit for your parent’s friends. You’re good with animals, offer to dog walk. You see how much I get from housesitting and want to house sit so start speaking to people, ask your mom and her friends to spread the word. Put a notice up on the local notice board, advertise online. There are SO many things you can do to bring in SOMETHING. I even had to suggest that you offer to do extra stuff around the house in return for some money instead of just asking for it all the time.

Omg I am exhausted. I cannot do this right now. I cannot parent my partner when I am trying to wrap my head around all this other stuff. Yes, he is amazing in terms of emotional support and yes he has run me baths and made supper and vacuumed the house and he has made me copious amounts of ginger tea. But doing that does not mean you’re stepping up as an adult. It is a wonderful form of support but it leaves me to pay for everything, it leaves me nagging you or telling you about how to find work and money or telling you where your keys are and doing your washing and folding it and…I guess…feeling like your mother. I feel so exhausted today, emotionally. I feel so drained and I feel lost because if you were just a few years old I know you’d be the man I see you can be. And it’s not your fault, you’re not a bad person at all. In fact despite my rant, I love you very much. You are kind and deep and caring and funny (when you’re not being childish)…but, by no fault of your own, you do have a lot of growing up to do in terms of the real world.

Time and Fallibility

It’s been four days since I saw those first two little lines appear. Four days that feel like a lifetime…like this is all I have known. I try to think of other things and sometimes I succeed in distraction for a few minutes, maybe more if I’m lucky, but it’s always there. It’s there in the ache of my back, in the heaviness of my breasts, in the fluttering of my heart, in the odd sensation of weight in my pelvis. It’s there in the constant queasiness, in the hunger that turns to overwhelming nausea at night, in the want to sleep no matter how much I have slept already, in the niggling mood swings and spontaneous outbursts of irritation or tears. How can I not think about it when I am reminded every second…

How can I not think about it, obsess over it, when I have this decision looming over my head. I thought I’d had to make big decisions in the past but I laugh silently now as I realize how futile those decisions were in comparison to choosing life or death for a being which cannot speak out and has no chance to give forth it’s opinion. Who am I to make this choice of life and death. I’ve done it before but it’s a universe of difference when it’s your own life you are either choosing to discard or fight for. How can I be expected to do this? I’ve sat in silence, I’ve played music and sobbed quietly, I have lain in warm baths (hand on my belly) lost in sensations I cannot explain, I’ve pulled cards and written pages in front of glowing fires, I have curled up in my partner’s arms as we comfort each other with our hearts and our warmth and our strength. But I don’t feel strong. I feel like I have been handed a task of which I am not worthy, not even remotely prepared for. I feel so utterly fallible…

The Wild Woman

I wrote this a little while ago during a webinar called: An Initiation into the Untamed Landscapes of your Wild Soul.

The forest in me knows…
The mountain in me knows…
I am powerful, I am strong,
I am secrets and mystery and wisdom of centuries passed.
I am the lightness of breath and breeze
and the rustling of leaves.
I am the power, the immovable.
I am no longer hiding and curling up in the shadows…
I must be seen.
I must reach out and hold the hands of other wild women
so that we may flow together,
swept up in the current of our wombs,
our oneness with Gaia,
our other-worldness,
to create change and dive inwards,
taking our warriors with us
and reawakening the wildness within each or our ancient souls.

The Human Incubator

Thought the title to be rather appropriate considering.

My boobs are SO SORE, I am peeing all the bloody time, my back aches, my neck aches, I’m so tired I feel like a zombie from Walking Dead…actually probably look pretty close to one with my skin breaking out and my hair that is greasy like 5 minutes after washing it. And yesterday I literally ate cereal, soup and a ton of cheesy garlic bread and tuna…not all together, although I hear it’s not uncommon 😛 Banana and cheese is the only odd combo I’ve had so far.

And women have been doing this for eons…are you all nuts?! Lol. Kiiidding. So I haven’t made any decisions besides booking an ultrasound and consult to see how far along I am and to discuss options. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know…abortion is beginning to freak me out. But having a child when I am not financially stable, with my health, with a partner 7 years younger than me who is still trying to find a job as a white male in this godforsaken racist country…

I’m feeling very lost.Very torn. Either way, whatever I choose, life will never be the same again…


I’m pregnant…

Surpriiiiise! Well, it sure as fuck was a surprise for us. In all honesty, we were not exactly being careful. You see the thing is, I have endometriosis and polycystic ovaries. Being told I would probably find it difficult to fall pregnant…pair that with all my reckless years with no pregnancies and my period going completely MIA for nearly 2 years (it came back last year) and the fact that nearly every woman on my support groups who have been trying to conceive have been struggling/going through IVF/etc.

And here I sit. Feeling like more of a lunatic than ever before. One minute I’m crying, then I just want to hug and snuggle and I literally snap at the slightest thing. This morning I am raging around the house because my partner is still lying in bed even after I told him nearly an hour ago that I am hungry and want to go to the shops for rusks…because right now that is all I want. I also cleaned the lounge, unpacked and repacked dishwasher because clearly I was the only one who was going to do it whilst the dishes piled up in the sink.  I cleaned up the mess in the lounge (dogs had massacred one of their stuffed toys) and wiped down all the counters and then he wanted tea earlier so I made some and left it in the kitchen. It’s still sitting there.

And this is probably all a tad irrational because he has actually been amazing and he normally helps clean up and runs me hot bubble baths so when I get home from work I just climb in with my book whilst he makes supper. And he’s handled this pregnancy thing really well…I mean, I’m actually surprised. Neither of us want kids right now, in fact we were busy getting paperwork together in order to go overseas December/January time and start working and travelling. Well now…didn’t this just put a spanner in the works. Last night he drove me around at 10pm just to find a 24 hour store that sold rusks, hahaha! You hear about this stuff but you never realize how true it actually is until you feel sick but hungry and the only thing that will fix it is the one food you do not have in the house.

Ok now I’m tearing. Oh my jaysus. And on top of all of this I guess I’m still in denial…I mean, we have some pretty important decisions to make. I don’t know what to do. Financially this is NOT okay. I can barely feed myself this month. I suppose emotionally and physically, at 28, this is not a crisis for me but my partner is quite a bit younger…like 7 years younger. Yeah, oops. First step is to call my gynae tomorrow. Think this will be as much of a shock to her as it was to me. After 2 positive pee sticks I need to find out what to do next…I obviously need to either go for a blood test or scan or whatever it is they do to confirm.

Guess I’ll keep this updated now. I have a feeling I will be processing a lot over the next few days. And I WISH I WOULD STOP TEARING UP OMG. AAAHHHHHHHH…how the hell am I going to get through these hormones…

Declining Damsel

The declining health of a damsel in distress…

And I have not been the damsel in distress for years. Even in my three year relationship I took care of myself. Today is rough. My heart is pounding every time I stand up, or actually even sitting up for too long leaves me exhausted. I’m a bit dizzy. I’ve got pain snaking through my lower back, ovaries, abdomen, neck. I’ve had the shakes all day. I feel like my body just wants to collapse into a fleshy puddle because holding it’s human form is just too much effort right now.

Why am I so sick again?? I’m trying to rest. Today I’ve been lying on a bed watching series and only got up to make food or tea or go to the bathroom. Oh and have a Skype interview for a cool overseas job. But this scares the living daylights out of me…what if I can’t do this job? Do I have to disclose my chronic illness?? If it pans out I’ll be flying halfway across the world to Switzerland… hopefully with my partner, because we want to travel together. But other than that I won’t have my doctors nearby, or my immediate family, or my friends. Mostly I can just soldier on but this flare up is lasting two weeks which is a lot longer than usual. Last time I was like this was before my laparoscopy.

So I’m getting fed up and a little nervous as to why I’m so sick again. And I just have no energy to do anything right now. I’m definitely seeing my naturopath next week and getting to the bottom of this.

The Anorexia Chronicles

Seriously, how is this battle never ending? Why can I not wake up one morning and it’s all gone? I have been doing better and my recovery has reached a new point. After hitting 64kg I saw my therapist and delved in to a lot of what was triggering me and why I was binge eating etc. It really helped and I have been happily plodding along, even the body dysmorphia quietened down and I although I was 64kg I started liking the curves I saw, the tiny waist set off by the larger hips and now fuller breasts. But yesterday I stood on the scale…66kg. This morning it was 65.5kg.

I know I shouldn’t stand on the scale but I put my jeans on and I felt like a sausage stuffed into a very tight casing. It is disgusting. I refuse to buy new clothes so I am becoming more and more limited in what I can wear. Right now leggings and my loose onesie are the most comfortable. I know I am healthy in terms of the fact that my body is stronger than it’s ever been. I am able to gym and yoga like never before and I actually have awesome muscle tone in my back and under the flab on my stomach there are some pretty hardcore abs. But the fat. So much fat. 65.5kg…that’s more than 10kg heavier than I was this time last year. TEN KILOGRAMS.

I find I am okay with not eating until I decide to put something in my mouth, then I can’t stop. I bought a wrap for lunch and thought half for lunch and half for supper as I used to do. But I ate the whole thing. I started and then I just don’t stop. I am full but I keep going. It’s like, until I feel uncomfortably full I will just keep on eating. I decided to stop drinking two days ago after a 5 day antibiotic course. I haven’t had alcohol in a week now which already cuts out a crap load of calories. The next step I told myself is to cut processed sugar. So I’ll have honey in my tea and stop drinking milk in tea. Honey on my cereal, if I eat cereal. I’m said I am clean eating again and I’m two days in… two hot chocolates, one biscuit and a wrap in. Plus yoghurt and fruit at like 12am this morning. I need to stop eating so late at night. I need to get to bed earlier. I need to stop over eating. I need to exercise more. I need to stop all these little add ons…a teaspoon of peanut butter here, a handful of coconut there, a bite of a rusk, half a banana…all these stupid snacks that add up and are adding kilogram after kilogram of fat onto what was once a beautiful, lithe body. I feel like a Heffalump.

I’m also kind of seeing this guy now, the beautiful 20 year old (ooh to be a sugar mommy) and I keep thinking, he’s going to be dating an elephant. WHY CAN’T I STOP. It’s really not rocket science. I know what to do, I studied nutrition to help with this kind of shit. And how am I coaching others when I can’t even do it myself. If I just stop putting food in my mouth then I won’t have a problem. I chewed and spat again this morning, eating silly snacks again and realising I’m not even hungry. At least I was able to be aware of that. Argh. I just want to be skinny again. I just want to not binge eat, to not feel fat, to not have this all running through my head.

Sadness and Heart-longing

I miss you. I barely know you but I miss you.

I worry that I am falling for the person I have imagined you to be in my head. I do this often. Create a preconceived idea and fall hard for the person I think someone is. Or for the potential I see within them. But, being human, they eventually disappoint. And I do it over and over and over. In love, I think being an empath, seeing inside the soul and pure energy of a person, is a curse. Because eventually the humanness shows itself and the sad thing is, the oldest, most beautiful souls are often the ones who are the most damaged as humans. Perhaps it is because we are here to learn the harder lessons, taking on what the younger souls could not withstand. But then somehow most lose touch with their real selves, their pure love energy. It’s difficult to stay in touch with our pure love energy when the world is molding us into it’s boxes. But it can be done…so why do I always fall for the ones who are so damaged.

I’ve built high walls around my heart, making sure the gates are ready to snap shut at a moments notice and that I am ready to turn my back and walk away. It’s a scary place to be but caution is needed when it comes to other people. I am still loving and caring, as that is who I am, but I can walk away in a heartbeat. I feel myself falling for you (or the you I have created in my mind) and all I want is to be in your arms, to be physically in your presence, getting to know you properly…yet I know that at the first sign of trouble I can shut those gates and walk away. I think I learned to do this 5 years ago when my final straw was dating that coke addict who I nearly let ruin me. After overdosing and coming out the other side, I made a subconscious promise to myself to never get that attached to any ever again. I was with a guy for three years and I was so able to detach myself that when I eventually ended it I barely cried at all.

Then I met A last year and he was the first one with whom I allowed myself to feel a bit more. To feel possibilities and hopes. And then he proved to be just another one who left me hurting. Another one who toyed with me. Who took total advantage of my loving nature. Being a nice person does not make me weak. It might have in the past, but I have learned. Why do people think being nice means I will put up with bullshit and allow myself to be walked all over? It’s saddening really, that being a good human means others think I am weak or needy or will sacrifice myself for them. I think it makes me stronger than most actually. After all the crap I have been through, I can still love and still treat others with respect and caring until they give me reason not to. But it means that I do often still get a bit hurt…or maybe disappointed is a good word. I wish I could be a bitch. That I could not care about hurting others after all the hurt others have put me through. But where would that get me, really. I would end up just being one of those people I have been disappointed by. I do not want to be them.