I have kissed a frog or two or three or four, my memory fails me now, the fuzziness could be due to my diminishing grey matter. Purely by chance I met a gentle young man over the December vacation period and we agreed to spend ONLY a month in one another’s company. Of course a summer fling would be my idea. Needless to say, that month slowly turned into three years and we found ourselves coupled for life. Wedded blissed was just that; we travelled, wined and dined for a solid five years, never mind the focus on careers. Our passports tell of India, Thailand, Europe, Dubai, Mauritius; all amazing, unique experiences; the CVs read of MBAs and career accolades. Life was as it should be: perfect.
At year five of wedded bliss and after much nagging from family (much) we started the process (yes, it was, tell you why later) of becoming parents. We tried, and nothing happened and I believe fully in “try, try and try again”; which we did… the months passed and lo and behold we were pregnant. Silently doing air punches, not sharing our news with anyone for three months. I had a bit of discomfort, a pinch now and again, and that was the signs of my impending first miscarriage.
The gynae assured us it was a common occurrence and that we should carry on with our attempts. Attempt one miscarriage, attempt two miscarriage, attempt three miscarriage, attempt four miscarriage! With our 10th wedding anniversary and my 38th birthday fast approaching, I closed the book on having children, it was draining emotionally and financially; so I left it in the hands of the universe. Two chance conversations took me to the route course of our ill luck and with the help of an amazing gynae and Chinese medicine practitioner, year 11 brought us our miracle little girl.
The pregnancy was strangely uneventful without a hint of drama. I proverbially held my breath for 9 months, waiting for the ‘M’ word to happen. Her birth was peaceful, I had some soothing music playing, doctors cracking jokes and there she was. Pale and wrinkly, eyes open and so tiny. We fell in love immediately. Our darling is an old peaceful soul, partly due to the fact that I am an older mum and the rest I guess is kismet. She is blessed with good health, a sharp mind and we have the good fortune never to witness a shrieking, crying, hysteria episode in a super market.
At 4, madam is a diva with sunshiny smiles and kisses, all from her mum no doubt. I still watch her sleep and each time marvel that she is ours. So at 42 years old I find myself mingling with mums a decade younger, sometimes more. I am at school socials and many birthday parties. I relish each day and savour every moment that I spend with her, frequently daydreaming about her. Sometimes I am over cautious, sometimes I am not, sometimes we fight and make up but man oh man is it amazing.
I often wonder what would have been different had she been born when I was in my 20s. Would she be calm and collected, confident as she is now? Would we be able to afford the privileges that we have now? I always end up with the sheer gratefulness that she chose us as her parents.
Written by Nirvashni Rajkumar (Mum, Magic Maker and Financial Planner)
