Thursday, May 29, 2014
She has been here pretty much since the day after I found out one of my twins had died. She grabbed the next plane out of Johannesburg and has since been our meal maker, house cleaner, baby helper and above all, emotional supporter.
Mum was always going to come over for two months to help out with the twins. Once we found out it was twins, the panic about how we would cope in the first little while set in and mum offered to come over and spend some ample time helping us keep our household intact.
Well she has still done this, and now she leaves on Saturday. I am dreading her departure.
Not only because we will now have to totally fend for ourselves, (fuck!), but because I'll miss the familiar jingle of her bracelets in the morning when she gets up.
Her impossibly healthy recipes. And just having my mother around. On tap.
She has been so great with Sebastian too. She adores the shit out of the little guy. Mum was never a grandmotherly type. And yet he has managed to get coos and oohs out of her like I've never seen. Sebastian is her first grandchild, so am sad she has to go because of how much she loves him.
She has sat up with me thumbing through books and the internet trying to work out why he is crying (colic), come with me to his clinic check ups and the osteopath, helped me abate his crying by endlessly rocking him, being that extra set of hands to hold him if I need to go to the loo or have a bath. And given Sebastian is not a baby that likes to be put down - ever - helping hands has been an almost necessity.
Sure, of course we got on each other's tits. She was living in our little flat with us two, also fighting a fair amount of sleep deprivation. Sure, we shouted at each other a few times. Slammed doors and went for a walk around the block. We spent all day together, mostly inside.
But she has been there for me the moment she heard Molly had died. She helped me through labour, getting home, making sure the house was filled with food. Helped me sift through my constant crying and emotions.
And most of all, loved and helped care for Sebby.
Peas: Can you believe I have a baby.
Mum: No. It's hard to believe.
Peas: I know, isn't it?
This was yesterday.
Her going marks the end of a chapter and the beginning of a new. The end of the first two months and Molly, and now we are on our own.
I feel really flat and wonder if this is when the depression will kick in.
Either way, my mum had been invaluable and amazing. I'm going to miss her so much.
Dreading the goodbyes this weekend.
* Fuck. I have to do stuff on my own. Fuck!