How I Met Your Father: The one with the ticking biological clock

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Kids, I have wanted you for as long as I can remember. As young as 12, whilst other girls were dreaming about wedding dresses and signing their crushes’ surnames as their own on notebooks, I was imagining what you would look like…

Sure, your names changed drastically over the years – rising and waning with my religious convictions and the boy I was interested in at the time. You guys went from being called Dilshaad and Bienjamien to Piper and Finn but the one thing that never, ever changed was the fact that I wanted you …so much.

By 2016, I was about as ready to meet your dad and get pregnant as I’d ever been but as you can tell from my numerous online , speed dating and set-up disasters, this just wasn’t happening.

Add to that the fact that every day brought more spotting of grey hairs which would inevitably lead to me having a meltdown that my eggs were going the same way (yes, I know that that is not how it works biologically and I was being a tad over-dramatic as usual) and you can guess how frantic I was about my fading baby dreams.

Nosy family members, friends and strangers’inquiries into the barren state of my womb were not helping and more often that not, I felt like throat punching them Wonder Woman-style.

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As I watched college and university friends settle into so-called domestic bliss and having baby number 3 already, it felt like everyone and their mothers were passing me by in the little person making business.

The ache to have you, hold you, raise you and love you ripped through my entire being like a thirst that couldn’t be quenched until …

March 2016 …

After a really, really, ridiculously awesome night out at the movies with your Spirit Mom, Aunts Sammy and Mishy and Uncle Freddy watching Zoolander 2, the highly anticipated sequel to our favourite movie of all time; I lost my wallet in the back of an Uber.

Of course, I didn’t realise this until the next morning when I needed said wallet to pay for my Wonder Woman corset (I love cosplay, you guys know this!) and I freaked out BIG time!

Hyperventilating as I tried to convince the Uber driver that he needed to get his butt back to Vredehoek pronto and bring my wallet to me, it struck me that I had been utterly, unforgivably negligent.

If I couldn’t be trusted to take care of myself and my belongings, how the f*** did I think I was going to take care of a baby?!

I was still way, WAY too irresponsible to be someone’s – your- mother and I had a crap load of growing up to do before I brought you into the world.

My first instinct at age 30 whenever something bad happened to me (but after I did the adult things of calling the police/getting to an emergency room/hailing a cab etc.) was still to call your Nan like I was 3-years-old and she could solve everything. I was nowhere near ready to be a parent if I still needed mothering like that.

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And that Kids, put a pin in my insatiable broodiness and silenced the bio clock  for a good while. I wanted you and I sure as hell was going to have you BUT I needed to raise myself into a responsible grown-up worthy of being your mom.

The road to having you was bumpy as all hell but looking at you now …man, it was worth it! I love you, my beautiful babies xx


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Creative writer with a penchant for all things Cape Town,communications, magic and travel

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