Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Angry Again. Very, Very Angry

Just this week, I read about someone who asked to give her baby for adoption so asked for the hospital social worker but they told her that she’d just have to deal with the baby. Somewhere else but still in our country, this very week, someone else went to the police station asking for help as she was unable to care for her baby and wants to place it in care. The police told her to go away. Both women/girls were spoken to in a very rude manner. They are but a fraction of the number of women and girls who undergo such harsh and uncaring treatment.

A crying baby was found by two young boys on their way to school. Newborn baby in a plastic bag that the mother had put the baby in then set the bag alight. Baby has burn injuries and suffered from hypothermia.

The horror of that innocent baby’s first hours in a world she didn’t choose to enter.

But what if the mother had asked for help and received none? What if she tried to place her baby for adoption and was told by her friends that she shouldn’t “sell” her baby, that it’s not right to give her child to “strangers?” What if she tried to get counseling but no-one in her township clinic (If there is one) gave her the right advice? What if she would have also gone to the police station for help but instead of being referred to a social worker, would have also been sent away harshly? What if the nurses where she would have given birth would have heaped scorn upon her and told her to just “deal with it?” What if these people were the type to have told her she made her bed, she must lie in it? What if she was surrounded by people who cared more about her ‘sins’ than about the future of the innocent baby she was carrying? What if they didn’t care that she was raped?

Why don’t they care about the baby?

For that’s the problem.

Punishing the mother punishes the baby.

Until they find the mother of this abandoned baby and charge her with abandonment, we won’t know what happened. What we do know is that she had either no access to the right type of information, or had access to information but no support.

This is why I put my number out there in this bad old world wide web. I know it’s not safe. I know any number of creeps could find it. But you know, since the month I put it on, countless girls and young women have gotten in touch. They’ve been forwarded to the right professionals. Caring, compassionate social workers and pregnancy centres.

Some girls sadly are being forced by their parents to abort and because they are minors, they need consent to place the child for adoption. (Another law I disagree with. Why is it easier to abort than to place a child for adoption?) Some were told by their boyfriends that they would support them but they’ve now disappeared. Others have girlfriends of their boyfriends calling them telling them to leave them alone because they are a family with an already born baby in the home. There are too many cases of young girls who either wanted to abort but found out too late, or want to place for adoption because their consciences don’t allow them to abort but abortion was the only option they knew of. Till they came to my comment under a thread on DIY Home Abortions. Yep, that’s where I put my number. Under such a thread. Just one less baby dumped in bushes will bring joy to me. So I continue to answer every stranger’s text message whether I see it in the day time or at night after feeding our baby. They need counseling. The right type. I’d love it if they could keep their babies. But I’d also love it if they got the right kind of help if they couldn’t parent.

One less baby in a plastic bag. That’s all I want.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

In Their Eyes

We’re sitting in our bedroom. The 4 of us. Baby already asleep for the night. I think of our girl and her hasty temper, desire to control, snapping in frustration, and say (As I’m about to begin a small ‘lecture’ on the type of girl she should be), “She openeth her mouth with wisdom, in her tongue is the law of kindness.” They immediately ask, “Who?” I say, “She!” And at the same time my son says, “You, Mommy!”
I open my mouth with wisdom and my tongue contains kindness? Tall order! How easy to see your imperfections when you look at the standard. How heartening it is to know that the ones you talk to daily, hourly, see a goodness in you that you cannot see yourself. I don't feel wise. I don't feel like I'm this perfect mother they see. I feel so weak, so far away from where I should be. The woman they see is not the woman I see. I am so far away from where I want to be...
In 10 years’ time, will they still see that kindness and wisdom? Will they still believe I want- and know-what’s best for them? Will I one day snap and hurt their tender hearts with unkindness? Only time will tell.
And yep, I totally forgot to remind our girl of her need to think before she speaks. To ask if what she’s about to say has those merits or if God would be saddened were she to say those things or make those demands of Him. And now they’re in bed. Oops.

Friday, August 28, 2015

I Wish I Could Show You

I wish I could show you her smiling face. She’s sick, probably has a sore throat if she really caught what her siblings caught. Maybe her little chest also hurts when she coughs. Her little nose is definitely irritated by the blockage in one nostril and runniness in the other. But she smiles. Gets so happy to see me and just has the most lovely smile.

I can’t wait till the bureaucratic process is over (At least the adoption order part) so I can show you her face. Hopefully that day she won’t be dealing with the flu! There’ll be lots of catching up to do. But I must warn you. My Chubby Cheeked baby girl is not photogenic and looks bigger in photos than she really is Winking smile

You’ll have to visit and see her live and in the flesh to get a real sense of the bundle of joy we’ve been living with the past few months!

Thursday, August 27, 2015

They Have Arrived!

From Pretoria to Moorreesburg after a crazy fiasco!

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Now to find out what’s taking our Criminal Record checks so long!

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

This is Crazy

So…It turns out they (courier) have been calling my number thinking I’m the guy at the Dept. who they’re meant to be collecting from. I told them they should go to reception and ask for the guy who said the forms are ready. No Guy. They call his landline. No answer. I call his landline. No answer. The RAM people at the office call me asking for the Guy’s cellphone number. I don’t have it! I just have the office landline. I end up emailing the guy who captures our details and then sends them onto the Guy, telling him that the RAM people are downstairs and getting upset that they’ve been waiting for ages. And they have indeed. He then emails the Guy, saying I should give him my number.

Long story short. The guy who I spoke to OVER THE PHONE and even told me which courier companies to use, did not even remember the call. Does not remember our names, even after I had given him both our ID numbers last week. People, he’d even asked me how to pronounce the name of our little town! But it was all new to him today. I have no clue what the conclusion was. He promised he’d make sure the courier driver got the forms, but the poor man had already been waiting for 40 minutes!

Hmmm

We Have a Date..and Unimpressed with Couriers!!

Firstly the negative. Paid for courier services with courier last Thursday to collect our Form 30. I wrote this (Wednesday) morning to ask for a tracking number as I’d heard nothing. Bear in mind, I received missed calls which I tried to return but got no response. The person I had dealt with then forwards me a message from some person saying I wasn’t answering my phone so they cancelled collection. Ummm.It’s Wednesday and you haven’t bothered telling me? And what about calling my landline number? You have it too! And what about emailing me!? Wrote back to him to ask those same questions. (Just thought of another one-“What about leaving a voice message?”) And I also added that they’d better collect or I want a “refund back asap” as we already paid for the service. Will see what they say. There I’ve been, counting days meanwhile it hasn’t even left. And what if the poor worker at DSD now misplaces it? I told him the courier people said they’d get it on Friday. Ugh!!!

Anyway, I’m sure by the date of our orientation in October, we’ll have it here. By hook or by crook! And yes, we have a date!!! Managed to wriggle one in when hubby would have one of the daily meetings for the same issue. He said he can miss one of those. I got goose bumps after that phone call! We have a date!! I was about to type on Facebook that my husband had found a R1 deal on that safair R1 flight special but the available date was in February. He then cancelled it “because we’ll have two babies and I don’t want to fly with two babies!” I thought later, “Wow, what if things suddenly stall and we don’t have any second baby?” Only to get the call making an appointment. So excited. I guess now I really CAN work on a profile and actually plan for a boy. Oh my word!

Where can we get him circumcised? Yes, we are a family of circumcisers. Do Jewish rabbis do it for gentiles that aren’t 8 days old? Teehee.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

I Did Not Choose

I had no choice in where I was born. No voice and no vote. I just was. I could be living in a palatial mansion or could be in the poorest hovel in Guatemala. Yet I’m not. It’s something I always think of when I think of the horrific things happening in so many countries. Why am I not in Libya or Syria or Afghanistan or in some village in Nigeria, running from Boko Haram, preferring to commit suicide than to fall victim to them?

But there are also ‘not so nice’ conditions closer to home. Literally. We’ve always known in which township our daughter’s first parents live. I grew up in a township very close to it. I could walk over if I wanted to. But never did. I’ve visited people in shacks and found only joy in their presence. But this Sabbath brought our daughter’s birth parents to mind again.

The church my husband was preaching at was very close to the place where they live. In fact, we drove through it. I asked my daughter to take photos and as I looked at it through the eyes of a baby growing up there, having “no future” as her first mother said, it was terribly sad. How many other people are there with “no future?” And beautifully, how many are carving out a future despite their surroundings? How many have parents who are able to put aside every cent they turn to fund their children’s high school education? Do you know how little a domestic worker when you look at life’s expenses? Yet somehow they are able to push through to put their children ‘ahead’ of where they see themselves. I remember a girl in a lower standard in high school who lived in a shack. I didn’t know she did till the day their shack burnt down and all her school books and textbooks were gone.

What saddens me is that not everyone can get out of their circumstances. It’s not easy. If even those with the best background struggle, imagine being reared in a culture of apathy. Of “I keep knocking at doors but no-one opens, it’s pointless.” Of, “I did finish matric but can’t get funding to enter tertiary education?” Of, “I can’t find any employment and I have to take care of my pensioner mother.” Why was I born in the circumstances I was in, yet our daughter’s birth mom, just a couple of years younger, is in a stuck state-not only in terms of environment and surroundings?

How come some people live in places like this

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while others live in leafy suburbs like this?

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How interesting that where our daughter was born will not determine her (lack of) future. All because her mother made a choice. She didn’t choose where she herself was raised, and generally, we raise our children where we are. But she chose to give her a different future.

As our daughter grows older and we start homeschooling her, I look forward to finding out where her tastes will lie, what she will want to do as an adult. And as long as it’s nothing bad, I will make sure by God’s grace, that she reaches that goal. After all, it’s what her first mother also wants. So, she’s got two mothers rooting for her. I struggle to get over my upbringing. I had the funds. But the two dream jobs I had, my mother refused for petty reasons. Both would even allow me to be my own boss, work privately. Social work and midwifery. That is what I wanted. So believe me I say that if she wants nothing bad, (nothing that violates Christian principles) she will have my full support. We’ll be researching the best place to study, the best place to go. All my children will take a mission course online when they’re in their teens. I want them to know what’s involved in that and not just academics. Yes, we do health and things like that, but I’m not a mission school. I still have to abide by the law… And so, her future is bright because the Sun of righteousness is her big Brother. Indeed, He has risen with healing in His wings to dispel the night,  and brought her life and health and . Lathi tha ilanga. (Reminder for those who say they’ve forgotten the name we’ve given her-Lathitha is her first name Winking smile )

 

God will help her get to her destination.