'the' call*

today a year ago, i went for a 2 hour massage. i was sad and found myself walking into baby shops all the time. i would look at everything i would buy, 'should i have a baby'. then i would choose some things for friends' babies to get totally overwhelmed.  i would leave everything just there and leave the shop.  this specific day, overwhelmed did not come close to what i was feeling.  i couldn't understand why some people could just add to their families by deciding to get pregnant, get pregnant and 9 months later they had a baby.  i  was not even jealous of them... just so sad that we cannot do the same. so i went for a massage and just before the lady started i prayed to God and totally surrendered. i told Him i give up. i don't understand any of this and i'm so tired of trying to make sense of it. i surrender.  i know He knows better for us, but i'm not in this any more.  i remember clearly thinking 'whatever'...thinking that this was the end of our road to have more children.

2 hours later as i was walking into our apartment in kuala lumpur, marcel said: 'lin, here is a text message for you'.  you should phone back immediately.

i was still so overwhelmed by our loss of not being able to naturally 'just conceive', sad because i surrendered and i wanted to embrace and feel this loss that i've been carrying with me for so many years; all that i really wanted to do was take a bath and go to sleep.

but i phoned.

'how soon can you be back in south africa? i'm flying on monday to pick up your baby daughter'. 

that evening we changed our return flights to that tuesday (it was friday), and on the thursday we picked up our baby girl at the airport in cape town, south africa.

today, a year ago, we got 'the call' that any prospective adopting parent waits for... today a year ago our family grew from 3 to 4 and we got our baby girl.

the only other information we got was that she is beautiful and nearly 3 months old.  after we said our goodbyes the first thought i had was 'what is her name?" so i phoned the social worker again and her answer was... i could hear the smile through the distance... 'bella'.

that night i could not fall asleep. our social worker sent us a photo of our baby girl and she was beautiful.  i saw her sweet face all the time and could not get out of my  mind how sad she looked in the photos. i wanted to cry. i wanted to scoop her up into my arms and hold her tight, i wanted to hug her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear... i wanted her to know she has a mama, a mama and a daddy that loves her with everything in us... i wanted her to know that she is loved. and wanted. and treasured. i wanted her to know in that moment how much we loved her.

i had a dream that night... it felt as if i 'connected' with her and that she knew we were on our way... it was surreal and real and i got this feeling that she knew i was her mama... even though we have not met.

she knew.

today, a year ago, our hearts were filled with love for a little brown-eyed curly hair girl who is feisty and wild. the day i held her for the first time, my whole heart was filled.  that feeling of 'longing and need to hold our baby' was exchange with a feeling of disbelieve, of magical dreams coming true, of prayers answered, of God knowing our hearts and who's timing is perfect.

a year ago the universe gave birth to our baby girl, bella xx

tips on embracing infertility, an old sad memory*

1.  be brave and do it

2.  take the frames out, put them on the table

3.  get the photos of the last year out

4.  glow in the light of love

5.  cherish every single moment you captured with your camera

6.  feel gratitude

7.  let the happiness push up in your body... feeling as if it's going to run over

8.  stand back and smile

9.  hit the nail in the wall

10.  hang the photo frame

11.  live in the now

2 years ago, on a(nother) day that i longed for a baby, i went to a shop and bought R1 500 worth of photo frames.  Today, i organized the photos to put them in.  750 (plus) days later, i've grieved enough over our infertility and am i ready to let go of that memory/feeling. my heart is full. i am happy.

*thoughts/feelings on infertility ( memories in my mind the last 5 hours)... 

if you visit here often and know me, you will know that i always try to write about the positive things in my life... to use a negative event/feeling and to turn it around into something good.. .something that can add to your life too. after taking out the empty frames and writing this post, i've been 'embracing' those memories... letting them slip out... but i don't think that they will wander far... as i cherish them too, for they have been part of me for such a long time.

the day that i bought these frames, my heart was broken. for 10 years i (we)'ve been praying for a baby. i've been angry with God and then i would stop praying. the longing, the in-depth need to hold a baby, not necessarily from my womb, any baby, that i could mother was so overwhelming and real...it blindsided me to anything else in life.  the thoughts of God not thinking that i am enough to mother, of what-else-must-i-do-to-show God that i'm worthy of this experience, this love, His love.  i couldn't bring together my life and how God viewed me... what did i do wrong? did He not love me enough to answer these prayers... what else must i do? how many years still, do i have to wait?

for most of the time these were the conversations i was having with Him. every.single.day.  most days the sadness was there. you wish you can understand it, but (most days) it was a deep, calm, sadness... like a photo of solitude. nothing. no ripples on the water. just sadness.  it can be a beautiful feeling.  for me it was. somewhere there must be an explanation for all this sadness.  somewhere in here, He must love me to teach me such beauty in sadness.  you paddle. you breath. you cry. you stop crying. you pray. you stop praying. you want to scream. but you don't. can't anybody see that i'm drowning? can someone help me?

and then. out of nowhere, the sadness goes deeper. you breath. you smile. you know it's happening. you trust in the process. you get up and you do what you have to do to show sadness that life is good. people love me. i am loved. (you want to ask: 'am i', )but you let that one slip, because the sun is out. it's shining. you are smiling, drifting on the sadness. you think you are riding the wave, but you know it will surface. again. when you least expect it. you hold on to hope, other people's stories. you pray. you smile. (and you pray some more).

sadness is not a joke. it cannot be fixed. it's a feeling that has to be loved and cherished, you have to feel it. you have to cry and scold and swear and forgive. you have to love even more, for the sadness will not be there if there was not the most extraordinary good thing in your life. the yin and yang. the darkness and light. the empty photo frames in the corner and the beautiful photo frames against the wall.

the sadness and the happiness.