There is something just so wonderfully beautiful about children, their innocence, their naievity. When I was eleven my older sister had her first child. Georgia Naomi. She was, and still is, one of the lights of my life. I remember pushing her into the hedge in her silvercross pram with bouts of laughter. That is one of her first memories funnily enough. But I loved her, even if I were mischievous. She used to sleep over our house, in my bed and she was my first ´daughter´.
Then came two nieces and nephews from my other sister, Chloe, Maddison, Sam Ben and Sonny. I used to love getting them to sleep. Holding them in my arms. Sometimes dealing with the sickness bugs that went round and round. Cleaning tremendously full nappies. I was amazed that so much could come out of a small bottom!! I was more mature and less mischievous, although I remember doubling over with laughter after cutting Sam´s hair with the clippers and forgetting the guard. He had a nice bald patch on the side of his head. My sister Laura was sort of laughing but trying to contain her horror at the same time.
My twin Charlotte had her two. Sebastiaan and Theo. Sebastiaan was born in Germany. I never forget the time I had to leave him the first time to return to England. It literally and physically hurt my heart. I guess that was coming closest to feeling what it is to truly love a child like a mother does. I had been with him for the first couple of months of his life and was very very attached. Then Theo was born on the kitchen floor, in Charlotte´s home in Bristol. It reminded me of the story Like Water for Chocolate where the protagonist was also born on the floor and they swept up the salt that had evaporated from the maternal waters. After being very present in their lives, I had to leave my boys to start my life in Chile and it hurt tremendously once again.
What I guess I am trying to say is I have always been maternal. It has taken me a long time to find the man I really want to make that journey with. It took me a while to convince him into the path of parenthood. Unfortunately I had a miscarriage in January. It has been so hard trying to get my head around it. Imagine something you want most of all in life, someone offers it to you, you have it and are so happy, then as quickly as it comes, it is taken away from you again. I was devastated. You spend so much time questioning youself, feeling a failure. Pregnant women seem to be everywhere, people due at similar times to what you would have given birth. It hurts. But I would never begrudge that most precious thing of anyone. Unfortunately miscarriage is not spoken much of, but it is more common than you think. I confided in a friend who had gone through the same. I also have two friends with fertility issues, and they are the most beautiful and deserving people you could think of. The fertility lottery seems so unfair.
Before my loss I had been having dreams of a child for some time. I didn´t recognise the face, but the child was just ´there.´ A baby bird died in our dining room, scared of fright being cornered by the cat. I guess the signs were there that it just wasn´t meant to be. I had a dream the other day of my own baby. I know it was mine because it was in my arms and I was trying to breastfeed it. It gives me hope for the future. I yearn to have that closeness. The warm embrace of a child. I have so so much love to give. For now though I am engaged in a different project while my heart, body and soul heals. My work life has suddenly taken off in the area that I want it to. But I know motherhood is in my destiny, somewhere in the future on that twisting path of fate.
