2s, 1d, welcome number three!
One or two people have mentioned to me that it's been a while since I last posted and so I have succumbed to the flattering impression that people want to read what I have to say. I can barely remember what I last wrote, but I think it was about my up-coming caesarian which is now - incredibly - 9 weeks past. As it happens, it was not particularly scary - although Paulo was so pale as we waited in theatre for me to be anaesthetised that I thought he was going to pass out ("Who's looking pale?" the obstetrician called out in alarm, and Paulo told me not to worry if he had to slip out for a minute, which I vigorously protested, but which didn't actually happen, I think the big blue screen helped him stay put and stay conscious, and he held my hand throughout, but I digress) - but it was pretty weird. I didn't like the pure medicated nature of the procedure, nor particularly the way the obstetrician had to tug and push and wrench to get the baby out. It was all distinctly unnatural, and I find it strange that women should choose to do it more than once. Give me a vaginal birth with an epidural any day.
That said, the recovery was not as bad as I expected, in fact it was easy, although not being able to drive for 6 weeks was an absolute pain in the *rse, and most importantly of all my gorgeous little baby girl arrived safe and well. As it happens she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck three times which may be why she couldn't turn over and which could have made a delivery dangerous, so all in all the c-section was definitely a good thing.
How can I have got this far without posting a photo? Here she is, little Eva at 4 days, as sweet a little bundle of joy as anyone could wish for:
Of course, she looks just like her father, as did the boys when they were born. I am resigned to my role as rent-a-womb.
And then, just as we thought we could relax and enjoy her, the fun and games started. A paediatrician who saw her on day 2 thought she looked dysmorphic, with her widely-set eyes and large head. "Have you met my husband and my sons?" I asked in vain. We were dispatched to see a whole bunch of specialists, including a geneticist who took one look at the lot of us, measured everyone's heads and sent us home. When they all gave her a clean bill of health she went on to fail her hearing test, twice. Cue referral to the ear, nose and throat hospital, where it was revealed that all she had was a little fluid behind her ear-drum, due to a cold, that should clear up by itself. (In between we slipped off to sunny Portugal for a week - lovely - but there were 10 days during which we were contemplating full or partial deafness.) Phew. But what's this little lump that has popped up in her groin? A hernia, no less, that required surgery.
At this point the gods - or to be precise Vulcan - must have taken pity on me for they caused my flight home to be cancelled, giving us time for the op and a free re-scheduling. So for the rest of you inconvenienced by the Icelandic eruption, sorry, it was our fault.
Eva is now absolutely fine, or at least seems to be, and we leave for Moz tomorrow. I have missed both the boys' birthdays (they left with Paulo 4 weeks ago, and are both smitten with their little sister), but I come laden with presents which should make up for it. See you there!
Labels: birthdays, Eva, Joaquim, Paulo, Sebastian, sisters
Happy holidays
When your friends think you may have died it's definitely time to post something.
We had a family-tastic Christmas and New Year, with a wonderful visit from my parents and sister - you know, the once struggling author who talks too much. Feel free to pop over to her blog for an envy-inspiring pic of the beach we were on at New Year's. I really must add to her eulogy that Nkwichi Lodge was without a doubt one of the loveliest places I have had the pleasure to stay in. The boys loved the jungle adventure mixed with fabulous beach, Joaquim discovered to his delight the joys of swimming underwater with a mask (aided by the presence of hundreds of multi-coloured and very tame fishies in the crystal clear water), and Paulo and I found it hugely relaxing (no mobile phone reception, for one, how blissful is that?). All-round a big thumbs-up. Aside from that there was the usual present frenzy at Christmas, the highlight of which for me was Sebastian's reaction to my urging him to open his other presents after he found an all-singing all-dancing Lightning McQueen at the bottom of his stocking: "I don't need that, I just need this!" (He has barely let it our of his sight since, he sleeps with the big hunk of plastic, bless his cotton socks.) Great Super-Maman Christmas lunch: turkey and trimmings and chocolate roulade (if you ain't tasted it you ain't lived), and all the rest.
Since then it's been back to work, where I have a new member in my team; we are now three (my management skills are being stretched). He is taking over responsibility for the community-based tourism projects, leaving me freer to concentrate on other stuff, like strategic tourism planning and working more closely with the operators and er, blogging. He seems promising.
For Joaquim, Monday was his first day at "The Big School". He has been counting down the days, so excited is he at joining his best friend Milan and the other big kids there. He was so confident and happy, waving me away with barely a glance as he showed off his new exercise book and pencil to his teacher that I was filled with a warm glow of pride. Sebastian is back at nursery next week, which he is equally keen on, but meanwhile has been kept busy playing with his new best friend, Samuel. And what a beautiful pair they make.
Labels: food, Joaquim, Pemba life, Sebastian, sisters
Back at last
Swisslil has tweaked my conscience. She's in bed suffering from hideous morning, afternoon and night sickness and is likely to be so for some time and yet she manages to update her blog. I have no excuse.
Or maybe one. Joaquim is sick, again. Respiratory tract infection, maybe laryngitis. If it were not for the reassurances of the paediatrician, I would be really quite worried, as it seems he gets everything going. In fact, the next time we spend a long period in Europe, I may take him to a homeopath and try to discover if there is some underlying cause for this tendency to have terrible coughs. We've had a couplke of bad nights, but it's not all bad, he's taking his meds and improving daily.
As is our house. While we were away, little happened. Nothing unusual there. Since we got back however, the roofers have been thatching like crazy and it's really starting to look fantastic. Builders still have a long way to go: no bathrooms, kitchen or floor yet, but it's coming together. Our carpenters have made some solid, handsome doors, and the electrician has finished his installation. A few mistakes have been made, inevitably, but it's starting to look like the house I was dreaming of when I first sketched it many months ago. I even know where I'm going to put the beautiful hand-painted tiles I bought in Portugal.
Work is fine. Again, not much progress made in my absence, more being made now. I have not yet lost that just-back-from-holiday enthusiasm and energy, so I must make the most of it while it lasts. Going out to check progress next week.
One shocking piece of news though. Our housekeeper's daughter - early 20s and 8 months pregnant with her second child - is HIV positive. She just found out. Her mother is calm, as she is an HIV-AIDS activist for her church and as such well-informed, but nonetheless it's a terrible blow. Pemba, as the Provincial capital, has an anti-retroviral treatment programme for those who develop AIDS, so in that way she's lucky, but luck has really nothing to do with it. My fear is that there are so many more young people out there, infected but without knowing it, and nobody seems to be changing their behaviour. Sorry to be grim.
To end on a cheerful note, my sister's book, Gods Behaving Badly, has reached number 19 on the bestsellers'list. Fantastic or what? Get out there and buy a copy, if you haven't done so already. It's a rollicking good read.
Labels: AIDS, Joaquim, new house, sisters
Nothing much
The rainy season, which was tapering off as should be at this time of year, has made an unexpected comeback with a series of dramatic night-time storms over the past week. Torrential rain, loud thunder and flashes of lightning that fortunately do not wake the boys and are keeping the garden green.
Our house grows (rain is good for the cement). Need to order the doors and windows.
Received an official paper the other day, addressed to Rebecca Bums Phillips Marques. My middle name is Burns. An easy mistake to make, and not funny in Portuguese, but I thought you'd like it.
My sister (you may read her blog) is on holiday and I miss her virtual presence. Is there a word for that?
Labels: new house, rain, sisters, typos
Of course, she looks just like her father, as did the boys when they were born. I am resigned to my role as rent-a-womb.
