My Life as an African Gypsy

Post holidays and our trip up north, I found myself in a funk. I was tired in a weary sort of way, not necessarily in a 'need to sleep' kind of way, though I am sure that could have been attributed as well. I was grouchy and snappy by the end of everyday. Jovie had been especially clingy and especially fussy. I had wanted to be more purposeful about learning activities with Anaya in the new year, but it hadn't happened. Instead our home had been invaded by mice and pooped all over, I felt like I was allowing my family to live in filth, while I just couldn't managed the deep cleaning that needed to be quick enough. My husband had not had near the attention he deserved, and yet I just couldn't muster any energy up.

I felt like a failure.

I had organized a girls' night out with a couple of friends, which hadn't happened in about 9+ months. Needless to say, I was super excited. That afternoon, before going out, in the most loving and concerned way, my husband brought up my condition. He couldn't have done it any better than he did.

What I felt? I must have been failing big time. He noticed and could feel it. I told him, through tears, I needed to process and we could chat later.

I went to my bathroom, shut the door, and sobbed. I was weary and unable to see anyway to change my state, thus no way to stop failing. Eventually I blew my nose, wiped my face, and went back to taking care of my girls, resolved that I'd try to change something. My husband kissed me and reassured me of his love, which I knew was never failing.

That night I went out and had some of the yummiest Italian food I've eaten in my life, chatted and life about everyday nothingness, and ended with a bowl of ice cream. I felt refreshed.

When I got home, I climbed in bed with my hubby, and we chatted. I had realized it had been about a month since I had gotten together with friends or gone to the hospital to do ministry. My Bible study group had been on holiday break so I had been lacking my weekly ladies meeting and encouragement. We had taken our 2 week trip up north during that time, but it was 24/7 with the girls and Jon. 

This phase of life with babies is all consuming; it is easy to get caught up and lost amidst it all. I guess I just realized I have to be purposeful about taking breaks, socializing, and ministering. And on top of that, not feeling guilty for it! Jon always encourages me to get out more, but I place guilt on myself for leaving the girls with him, when is so happy to keep them... and happier still to have a happy wife! Since then, I've been a new person.

This pregnancy just continues to move along. My heart has grown so fond of my little Karasi and I catch myself dreaming about the fun days ahead with my three little girls. (Seriously? Pinch me! So fun!) I sometimes cannot even get my head around the fact that there will be another baby passing the afternoons with us in our living room. (Well... the whole day. Ha!) I feel so full now... surely my cup will overflow. Our family has been so blessed. I am feeling quite well with little to complain about. I get aches and pains from time to time, but I think those would probably come with or without pregnancy. I like my Tums, as indigestion visits many nights. My belly continues to bulge, and I dread the inevitable discomfort which is around the corner. Such is pregnancy though, this business of making babies. I do look forward to an extended break in the future.



Anaya is turning 2 in less than a month. We like to watch videos of her from earlier this year; boy has she changed! She is so grown up, telling me which shirt she prefers to wear, making up stories before nap time, eating on her own with her fork, passing an hour reading books on her own, etc. We are working on things like sorting buttons by color or shape, counting objects not just knowing numbers, playing 'Which one is missing' which works on her memory, and practicing very basic phonetics. I do not spend near the amount of time working with her as I would like or she would like, but I figure this is a season. She is still a little sponge, taking in everything! She wants to be just like Dada:

My Little Singer














Jovie is doing well. The last few weeks have been a little extra fussy and I found myself very tense and frustrated with her. She cut her first tooth, and I figured that must be it, until my wise hubby asked me if I was producing the same amount of milk. Jovie seemed to be super hungry and gobbling her solids ravenously. That afternoon he gave Jovie a bottle and I pumped. Oops. Not close. SO, this week we are working on boosting my supply. If we cannot remedy it, I will begin to supplement. Boo! Not what I want to do, but Jovie's health and happiness is most important. (Not to mention my sanity.) In other news, Jovie wants to stand, reach, grab for everything all day! I think she'll crawl before long, and this Mama will be happy. I think she'll enjoy some freedom and independence that way and give her best attempt to catch up with her sister.


 

Who is that big girl???

Jon is doing great. We have re-introduced gluten, and much to our hearts' content, we believe it is NOT the problem! We are pretty convinced it is an allergy/reaction to a group of fruits/veggies called Nightshades. Check it out if you want. Most commonly, they cause problems with joint pain and arthritis, but sometimes eczema. Go figure. Jon is currently taking an online course in computer programming and easily excelling, which is not a surprise to me. He is such a natural. Anyways, he is just getting his feet wet and we'll see what the future holds for him in that regard.

We are getting anxious for my parents to arrive on the 15th of February. AH!

There's a little update! Hope you enjoyed.

Anaya is 22 months old and will be turning TWO before I know it. What?! (A common Anaya-saying) She is such a blessing to Jon and me. She now knows all her colors. (Black, white, brown, yellow, orange, red, green, blue, purple, pink) Her favorite color is yellow... everything must be yellow. She counts to 12 in English and is learning to count to 10 in Portuguese. She sings most of the ABC's, but often gets out of order or decides to skip a big section. She knows more than half of her letters by recognition and an object to go with them, such as "B for baby" or "G for Gasher". She LOVES singing. She has mastered "Twinkle, Twinkle"  and "Old McDonald" which are by far her favorites and many other complete songs from our kids class. "The B-I-B-L-E" is especially cute, as is "I Love You Lord" her bedtime song that we sing to her and she now sings to baby as baby goes down for her nap. She talks and talks with a vocabulary I could no longer list. If we point to something and ask her what it is and she doesn't know, she responds with a peppy, "I don't know what that is!" And when we tell her, she likely has stored it away for good, knowing it from then on. She has begun memorizing her books, 'reading' pages at a time. She enjoys praying. Last night we were thanking Jesus for everything we saw, from birds to baby's swing. Other things she enjoys - bath-time, the sprinkler, coloring, caring for baby, rolling in the grass (a new found joy), doing dizzy in the swing, picking flowers and smelling them, climbing, jumping, etc.

Jovie is now 6 months! Time is flying with this one. She is such a funny girl and already all her own, very different from her sister. We are slowly getting to know her, which is such a cool privilege as a parent. She is my snuggle puppy and very much a Mama's girl. She would love for me to carry her on my hip all day long. She is sits fairly confidently, however, does have her occasional topple, already resulting in a few head bonks and tears. She hates her tummy, so while she is capable of rolling, prefers not to. She plays nicely with toys, now flapping her arms to make the noisy ones shake.  Everything goes to the mouth. Everything. She has totally figured out her jumperoo and goes to town in that thing, loving when you praise her. She enjoys music quite a bit. She loves to make raspberries with her mouth, spitting everywhere. I frequently hear her doing this in bed. Today is day 3 of food, and she is starting to cooperate. She is eating oatmeal with a little bit of applesauce in it. We'll introduce bananas soon. She adores any attention Anaya will give her and will laugh at the smallest action Anaya makes in her direction. She loves her. A favorite activity is chasing Anaya around the house yelling. She likes a lot Gasher and is testing his kid-proof-ness by frequently getting a firm grip on his lip. He handles it well and returns for more torture, tail wagging.

Baby #3 is growing well. I am 12 weeks now and beginning to feel more energetic and less nauseous. And Jon sings "Hallelujah" as his wife might start waking up before 8 in the morning and help with the dishes again. ;) I have a rockstar husband. We should find out the gender next month, which is always exciting. I love giving our babies names in the womb and calling them by name instead of 'baby'. I feel like we get one step closer to knowing this little resident in my tummy.

I am so blessed to be Mama to these three.

The image is burned into my mind. After 3 years in the hospital here, little shocks me and leaves me disturbed. Yesterday was the exception.

I sat across a lady who begged me to let her go home. She told me over and over again that she is tired. I explained that I didn't know how to help. I am not the doctor; therefore, I cannot get permission for her to leave. She would have to stay at least one more night in order to talk with her doctor the next morning, whom I am sure won't let her leave; she is in too bad of a condition. I felt a little helpless. We tried to call her family, but she didn't have the right number.

Puss oozed from her eyes and drained out her mouth. Her skin was like thin tissue paper and where it was attached to the body it was bubbling with blisters. Where it wasn't attached was bright pink raw tissue. Her teeth chattered against the sopping gauze she held beneath her chin. Her words were hard to understand and it pained me to tell her once again, "I don't understand," forcing her to talk more.

When it was time to leave, she told me she wanted juice. I asked her what kind she liked and she told me, "Coca Cola." I told her I'd get it and then went quickly to a shop at the hospital and brought it back. I could hardly imagine it possible for her to drink from a can, but she willed the strength, sat up, grabbed it, and started drinking right away. I will never forget her gulping the cold coke as blood poured like a fountain from the new raw spots on her cheeks, soaking the sheet beneath her.

On the way home I felt a little sick. I wanted to weep, but the sobs were caught in my throat. She is someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's mom. She is human. I just can't imagine it being me or someone close to me.

I got home, fearfully disinfected my phone, and told my hubby about it. I went to bed thinking and praying for her.

Oh that the Lord would have mercy on this woman in some tangible way.

It was late.

I looked around thinking how strange it was, these roads that brought us here, together him and I. I glanced over his scars thinking up possible stories for how he got them, remembering the life he lived, a real life he lived, full of joys and deep sorrow. There was a deep pang in my chest. I replayed memories of him kicking the bottle hung from the tree and hopping on the roof with Jon, unhindered by the crutches and the loss of his leg. I now watched his pulse beat in his neck, too fast. I stroked his limp hand, hoping he felt my presence, hoping he felt His love.

He wasn't liked much, having a bit of a disrespectful attitude. He didn't fool me, though. You know the kids with chocolate all over their faces who are insistent they didn't eat the cookie? That's how I saw him, his head held just a little too high, his laugh of confidence wavering a bit at the end. He'd been hurt by those who should have been closest to him. He was scared. Who could blame the kid? I could see glimpses of tenderness, glimpses of the Savior in him.  

Just that morning the Spirit rested heavy upon me, my nose pressed to the floor, my tears pooling on the dark hardwood. My girls and I cried out, "Come on, Jesus!" I yearned for Him to come, for Him to save. I wanted so desperately for this to be the one we saw healed. I conjured up all the reasons why God would receive so much glory this time; I thought of how sometimes the Lord just acted in compassion. (I would lie if I said this was the first time I did this routine.) I was lead to look up his name, Samuel - "God has heard". Surely Lord. I dared to hope to believe.

I threw on a sweater and tucked my English and Portuguese Bibles under my arm and hopped in the car. It was my shift, Jon and Alice having taken the hours before.

There I sat stroking his hand; it didn't look as if a miracle was coming. He was peaceful though, pain managed nicely by the morphine, yet still able to talk and respond to questions.

A call came the next morning. He had been given a bath and then he died. Just like that. Life gone.

Covered in scripture, songs, prayer, and faith - he died.  

And I remember once again, that this is why we are here.

Now feel sorry for me. Waaaa.

Okay. Now we're over it. ;)

Jon and I are committing to 6 months of this lifestyle to see if helps his eczema. When he was no longer having breaks between his outbreaks and he was using steroid cream almost daily, we decided we had to figure something out. So we're giving it a shot and if it helps, it'll be our new lifestyle.

Currently I have 3 bowls of coconut shavings soaking in effort to make my own coconut milk and coconut flour. I bought pre-packaged stuff to test the waters, then I hope to buy fresh coconuts to use, as they are cheap here.

I've also experimented with white and brown rice flour and tapioca flour, though my processor and coffee grinder can only get the flour semi-fine. I am so grateful that my brother-in-laws are headed over in 2 weeks, and they will bring along an electric grain mill. (Cheers broke out across the land) These vary in price, so I think I got a well reviewed mid-ranged one. I'll give review after I test it out a bit. This should make life a lot easier, as current rice flour takes blending about 1 cup at a time, and then running about a 1/4 through the coffee grinder multiple times, and even then we get some crunchy raw rice.

We are headed to South Africa this weekend,, and I hope to find a few other helpful things. I was graciously given a little jar of xanthan gum and I was excited to find out that I can buy it in South Africa without breaking the bank, though I've yet to experiment with it. I couldn't find it here in Mozambique. I am determined to figured a good all-purpose flour blend with ingredients I can find here. This sweet-loving baker needs me some cake, pies, and cookies... not to mention my tortillas and bread.

Coconut milk has been an awesome substitute for us. I've been buying cans, though I hope to make it myself. I've used it in mashed potatoes, butternut soup, bread, etc. and it has worked beautifully, without a coconut taste.

Previously I was a confident cook/baker taking pride in the compliments of friends and guests, now I am floundering, apologizing, and often on the brink of tears. Sigh. Give me some time. I keep telling Jon that I am confident I can make gluten free food that is yummy and that people won't be able to tell the difference. Only time will tell.