Pensive

Forgive the blog hiatus. I have been immersed in a lull. A kind of 'non' zone waiting for the days to pass. This short entry is testament to that.

With only 5 weeks to go all this focus on counting down time has robbed us of the present moment and catapulted us into an unknown future, clumsily guessing at what it will feel like to meet our little boy. 

Spent a week in Joburg recently to celebrate Le Baby Shower, which was held in a beautiful park with great food and croquet, just for something different. People lazed about in the Highveld sun from around 10 in the morning until well after 4 in the afternoon. Sign of a good day with good people.

Being back in Joburg did not endear me to the place anymore than when I left; if anything it allowed me pause to realise just how right it was to move away. It did, however, reveal that the absence of friends has left quite a void in my life. It was good to see their faces, hug and talk to them - they are the mud to my inner pig; when I see them I want to roll in them - delightful, wise, gracious creatures that they are. Intelligent, interesting, complex people who I miss out here in our little paradise. In thirteen years of being an intrepid traveller I have learnt the one miserable trade off. A constant undercurrent of grieving for those you leave behind.

According to the midwife, baby's head is engaged and preparing for the grand exit. He weighs 2.5kg and now feels like carrying a sack of flour in my belly, albeit one that migrates. As I lie in the bath watching the rippling movement beneath my skin, I am momentarily spooked.

Sigourney Weaver has alot of explaining to do.