On babies and all that jazz!

So I have been having baby blues. My womb is hungry for a baby. I know it sounds crazy because I have a 10 month old who is a handful and half and here I am dreaming of having another baby. A friend of mine had a baby a couple of days ago and just hearing her moan about the accompanying pains and discomfort of child birth made me want a child even more! I decided to step back and ask myself why I want another child. Here goes.

• I feel like another child will bring an opportunity to do this mommy business better. I have learned patience and perseverance. I have learned that no matter how tough the first few days are, it gets better and easier every month
• I feel like another child will give me a reason to stay home for at least 9 months to be with my son and of course the new baby
• I loved my pregnancy body and the sexual desires that arose within me during that time. It was simply incredible!
• I miss the attention and affection that came with my last pregnancy. My husband waited on me hand and foot and indulged every single one of my excesses
• I miss the mystery that surrounds a budding pregnancy. You wonder about sex, about names, about the child's appearance, temperament. You dream every minute of every day and you wait as every day feels like a 100 years

It's all selfish, I know. But who cares? I am allowed to be selfish. I pray that this baby hunger ends with my 2nd child. So watch this space. Another lil Gaul coming soon.

P.S. I am NOT pregnant!

On death

I have been taking swimming lessons the past month and so most Tuesday and Thursday nights, I have to walk past Fraser Cemetery. Once upon a time, I was afraid of cemeteries. Now, walking by one makes me more aware of the reality of death. We live and we die. That is probably the most inevitable thing there is. You simply cannot live forever. Death has never been something I spent time pondering in the past. Of course, when someone I know dies, I am caused to think. So this is the end for them? With death, there are no second chances. You can’t go and then decide that you are not ready and come back to life. When you go, you are gone.

As a Christian, I believe that there is life after death. I believe that based on the life we live on earth and the sheer grace of God, we end up in heaven or in hell. Not everyone would agree with this, but hey! That’s what I believe and that’s what gives me hope. Hope for the times when things are not going well. Hope for when I lose a loved one. Hope for a life without pain, sickness and suffering.

Walking past the cemetery, I look at the stones and wonder. To many, those stones mean nothing more than the resting place of God-knows-who. For at least one person, that John Doe is a father, a husband, a wife, a sister… Those stones hold the remains of that guy who didn’t show up to work on Monday. That schoolmate who never made it home from boarding school. That mom, who never got to meet her daughter’s prom date. My co-worker just told me the story of how she lost her husband 30 years ago. He left for work in the morning as he always did. A while later, his boss calls the house because he hadn’t arrived at work. She says she knew immediately that something was wrong. She heard cop sirens and she knew they were coming to her. That was the end. He was gone. His car collided with horses! Just like that. She is 65 now and never remarried. That’s what death does to some people. It seizes their tomorrow, by seizing the companion who should walk with them into tomorrow. In those graves lie decayed bodies and broken hearts.

Every day that passes, I ask myself, “How many steps closer to your dream are you today?” Most times, I cannot answer that question.  Gone are the days when, “You have great potential”, was a compliment to me. Beneath those stones, lie potential. People who could have been more; done more. They probably didn't because they thought they had tomorrow. They thought that they had the luxury of procrastination. Well, you know how that story ends.

I am not really bothered about what people will think of me when I die. Or what legacy I would have left behind. I just want to know that I have fulfilled my purpose on earth. I believe that God fills us with so many gifts, so that we can bless those around us, and leave whatever little section of the world that we are in, a little better than we met it. Your gift might be charity, encouragement, writing, public speaking… Whatever you are equipped to do, do it with all your heart and all your might and all your soul. As though you are doing it for God. I don’t know when I will die, but I hope I live very long. Long enough to grow as a person, to see my children grow and to see their children grow. To enjoy a wholesome life with my husband. Whenever it is that I die, I hope my husband’s heart will be right with God, and that mine will be too; so that when this road ends for us, we will look forward to being together again in heaven. I want to be able to say, “I have finished with this world, I am ready to go home to my God and the heavenly saints”.

It's a new year!

It's amazing how fast 2014 flew by. I remember moments of it so vividly it's almost like yesterday. Oh well, I'm grateful to be alive and well. I'm grateful for God's mercies in my life. I'm thankful that I have hope. Hope that God is still at work, and my latter days will always be better than the former.

I stopped making resolutions a few years ago. What's the point? I make them, I break them and then I feel guilty. Now, I follow a pretty straight forward approach.

1. Be a better person this year. Drop at least one bad habit.

2. Learn to love and trust God more this year

3. Be a blessing to people around me

4. Forgive more quickly. Love more deeply.

5. Be the best partner I can be to my husband and the best mom to my son.

6. Be more disciplined.

This is a rough sketch of my 'non-resolutions'! I sincerely pray this year brings joy to the saddened heart, peace to the troubled soul, healing to the ailing body&heart, laughter to every heart and home. Be blessed!

My one year anniversary!

I find it hard to believe that it has been exactly one year since my last seizure. It's crazy how time flies. I am too emotional to write anything meaningful, but I'll be back. I really want to scream out loud. I want to spend my evening giving praise to God. I'm looking back with gratitude to God and looking forward with hope!

Be back soon!

My tremendous three!

This morning, I just got up, got dressed and left home. Didn't really have a destination in mind. I had to just leave home. I spend so many hours with my son and while I love the little munchkin and the time we spend together, I still need some alone time.
Anyway, I end up doing some Christmas shopping. I had lunch and decided to write out the things I hoped for in 2015. This is something I've done every year for 6 years. I don't know why, but I didn't do it last year. I like the exercise because it allows me review the year at the end of it and see the things I should be thankful for. And it's also a good way to watch as my priorities change with time.

I've drawn up a 3 page list (it's a small notebook! ) and I'm excited for next year! I start to think of my friends. I have tons of people in my life. What do you expect? I went to 3 high schools and I was pretty popular. I went to an awesome university and I definitely wasn't a wallpaper. I have been around a lot and wherever I go, I add on names to my friend list. I'm going to use friend here to signify people who I am happy to know. People who I can pick up my phone and have a good chat with. People who I would invite to parties, hang out with etc. This list is pretty long.

I'm here, scribbling the names of people who are my friends and it's funny that there are only 3 people who really know me. These people know the worst things about me. One of them, has experienced a lot with me. You really don't want to be a shared enemy, because we will destroy you. Lol.

These wonderful ladies are awesome because we fool around, make fun of ourselves and of people and we support each other with everything. The fun part is we are not a group of friends. I'm the common denominator. They know of each other but don't have a relationship of any kind. I think that's why it works. Group dynamics are way too complex. I've been there, trust me. And we pray together and for each other. That's a beautiful thing.

And I love how we all have different strengths. One of them is my voice of reason. If I go to her to confess something horrible I did, she will laugh at the ridiculousness with me. She will tease me, but she will always tell me the truth. She will tell me I've screwed and she will guide me towards fixing it. I admire that. She tells me what I need to hear, but she listens to my crazy rants. I love her with all my heart.

Then number two is awesome because she is many things to me. She is like an older sister. You should hear how she scolds me. I love her mum with all my heart and she will forever be special to me. Her mum taught me faith and held me in her heart and prayers through loss and sickness. That happened because my friend wore my grief. She is constantly praying for me and my family. We share each other's high's and low's. We have cried through loss, rejoiced at good news, laughed at our helplessness in certain situations. When I'm being silly, I hear her voice in my head and it causes me to rethink. We skipped being birthday mates by hours! Even though she is brutally honest with me, I love her and how principled she is. I love her kids with all my heart and she loves my son with all her heart. If anything ever happened to me, I know she will be there always for my son. She's the most loyal person I know. I'm privileged to have her as a friend. Why am I tearing up? Ok... ok... you get the gist.

Then number three. We are thick as thieves.  Our friendship started off like lightening. Like two naked wires sparking off. And just as it started, it dulled. I have no recollection of the events that dulled it, but yeah a couple of years passed and we lived our separate lives. One day, we started again. It was awesome and she made me see why I loved her in the first place. We have secrets and we have history and we have a gazillion memories. I love how we have grown together. We still have our crazy, but we are adults, moms, wives. We support each other, we are the two heads that are always better than one. We gently nudge each other in the right direction. Together, we have no shame. All there is, is love and understanding. She's the one friend I have who can literally swap lives with me. We instinctively have the same reactions to many things. When I hear her say some things,  I laugh cos it's like listening to myself. We have the same loves and the same vices. I love it!

As 2014 wraps up, I raise my glass to these beautiful women who have added color and value to my life. I love them and I thank God that I am privileged to call them friends. I hope that I can be half the friend to them as they are to me. I don't know if this last line makes sense but I'm out of here!

I wish I could Write

I wish I could write. There is too much going on in my big fat head. I lie in bed some nights thinking, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Sometimes, I drift in and out. Not fully awake but not fully asleep. Somewhere in between. Then I start to think. I start to create scenarios. What if I had made xxx choices at xxx times, where would I be now? Is there really anything like destiny? Why did God give me free will?

I think about my bad choices. Why did I kiss that guy I met at Chocolate Royal cafe? It wasn't as though I liked him. I just did. He wanted me to kiss him, so I did. This thought leads to several other thoughts that lead to the revelation: I have kissed a lot of people I never really liked! I have smiled a lot of fake smiles. I have said so many "sorry's" I didn't mean. I have said, "I'll miss you" when in my head, I'm saying, "get the hell outta my face". I have even cried when in my heart I didn't feel a thing. What kind of person does this make me? I honestly wish I cared.

It's weird cos sometimes I am concerned about how people feel, so I watch what I say to them and how I say it. Other times, I don't give a rat's ass! Sometimes, I am patient and kind and considerate. Sometimes, I am cold, unfeeling, mean. I can count how many people I love. I love them differently and with different parts of my heart. I don't know if they all love me back. I don't love people because I want them to love me back. I love them because I love them. Just because. The people I love can hurt me. They are the only ones whose stabs can kill me. That's why I don't love everybody. I don't want to die young.

Destiny. I can't say I know what that means. Is it my destiny to be a mom to Lucas and a wife to Nathan? I don't know. If I hadn't come to Canada to school, where would I have met Nathan? If I left Canada in 2012 how would we have Lucas? If I had married that Igbo guy who wanted to take me to "Spen" what kind of life would I have now? When it comes to destiny, I don't know. One thing I do know, is that we have the freedom to make choices. Those choices have consequences and it is those consequences that we live out everyday. But then, shit happens. You make choices, you do your best, but sometimes, shit just happens!

If I could write, I would write pages and pages of shit. Bad shit, beautiful shit. Just shit that goes on in my head. The shit I think about when people around me are talking shit.

Oh well... I'm out!

Once upon a time...

Last night, I was going through my son's closet and suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion. You see, about a year and half ago I had a miscarriage. It is probably one of the most horrible experiences of my life. It felt like I had locked up my dreams in a glass globe and someone just picked it up and smashed it! I had been married for 3 months when we found out. Words will never express our excitement. We started dreaming, planning...

I did everything and more. Folic acid, hospital visits, veggie shakes, I even joined a pre-natal class! I'd be walking down the street, and my mind will be so far away. I constantly seemed to be dreaming. Dreaming of the miracle growing inside me. Of how much love we would shower on this child. There was no need to think of names, we already had name options. We started dreaming of what part of Toronto we wanted to move to. We lived in this really tiny apartment and there was no way we could bring a third person in.

Then, I went for my first scan and it all went downhill from there. I cannot write down everything I felt. To do so feels to me like giving up the only keepsake I have from that dream. My head felt heavy. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt so much inside but most of all, I felt numb. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there. I could not cry. If a truck hit me at that moment, I probably wouldn't have felt it. I turned to my husband and I wanted to kick him so hard. He wasn't crying. How could he not be crying?  The whole ride home, we sat in silence. He held my hand.

I crawled into my bed and that was when I cried. As I cried, I kept asking myself what I did or didn't do.  I had recently written a story about a couple who lost their baby. Immediately, I cursed at myself for writing that. I hated myself for always writing morbid stories. If only that story had been a happy one, maybe my child wouldn't have left in anger. Or maybe it was because I attended a funeral. Why did I look at death when I had life growing in me? So many crazy thoughts crossed my mind. I blamed myself over and over again. Then people started calling me. That was another horrible experience. People think I am strong. And sometimes, I feel like I have to not disappoint them. So I went through the motions. Pretending like all was well. Pretending like I had accepted it all. And they believed me. Every single one of them.

My husband slowly started to express his own emotions. The one line he said that stuck with me was, "all of a sudden, everywhere I turn, I see babies. I think my greatest emotion is disappointment." It was when I knew that he also suffered inside that I forgave him. I don't think I can say we grieved together. But we stood together through each others grief. I bled for 6 weeks. Every time I looked at my blood, my heart broke all over again.

My son, Kandu, is a beautiful boy and such a delight. I still look at him and wonder if this is all a dream. I cannot imagine my life without him. However, I will never forget the one that got away.