25 weeks

The 4^th of July 2011. Like any other day of the year I am sure the day held something for everyone. Maybe it was a day on which something incredibly positive or negative happened, maybe it was just another ordinary day with things going their usual way, like they do on a monday.

For me the 4^th of July 2011 started of as a pretty ordinary day which then turned into something magnificant by 5pm. Some days do this to you and you gotta love life for giving you such moments, reminding you that life is indeed unpredictable, incredible, amazing. It was at 5.30 pm that day that I heard two sentences which I had longed for, speculated over, thoughts carried with me like pieces of an unfinished puzzle:

“I looks like you are having a little boy, and I am pretty sure the other twin is a young lady”.

I was 18 weeks pregnant. Seconds ago I got told that I would have a son and a daugther. All of the sudden my growing belly had reached another step, turning the lives growing inside me into something more real, more concrete. I was on my own (since then I figured this is how a lot of things would go from now) and although I wished I had brought someone at the time it was ok to go through this on my own. I was overwhelmed, the surprise and shock immediately made me burst out into tears. A moment ago I had arrived at Düsseldorf airport, ricking my neck to spot my sister and dad in the arrival hall. Now I was told I was gonna have a daughter and a son. In a few months, this year, before Christmas. Holy Sh**. I was lying on the gynaecological examination chair, I was caught in the enormity of the moment, feeling overwhelmed, shocked, happy, sad.

Amongst all chaos surrounding me since I found out I was pregnant a boy and a girl was what I had wished for. In a family of only girls with all male relatives far far away in India I had wanted a boy. When I grew up I always wanted a brother, when I was in university I found myself surrounded increasingly by male friends, in China boys mostly were my favourite students. I found them approachable, easy to connect with and a lot less moody. (Sorry girls, but THAT is the truth about us.) I had wanted a boy from day one. 

Since the early days of my pregnancy I had already thought of names in my head – a boy and a girl one and until today and although I have played with different names in my head since then, they have remained my number one choice.

Since arriving in Germany the message of a girl and a boy was the perfect gift I got handed. I left the office feeling blessed. Although the doctor was not 100% sure about the girl at the time I walked across the road from her office and brought their first set of playsuits. One purple, one blue. The first set of many to follow.

A girl and a boy. My 5 year old cousin drew this picture for me after I told her what the twins would be.

Pregnancy is an amazing stage.

You find yourself amazed by what is happening inside you, how your body is changing with every week. You look at yourself, feeling kicks inside you, not being able to grasp that you will start your own family this very year already.

Pregnancy is a funny stage.

The body you admire the one second, really gets to you the next, making your life harder until you look in the mirror feeling like a whale wanting to ask someone to take off the extra weight just for a day so you can  dance around the room and feel light again.

Pregnancy is a worrisome stage.

You find yourself surrounded by pregnancy books, people on the other end of the phone or right in front of you – each and everyone with and the best opinion and piece of advice. You kick ass at entertaining 70 chinese teenagers for 45 minutes but raising two children to be the most amazing human beings you have seen has never been on your agenda. You wanna run. Immediately.

Pregnancy is a mad time.

You are no longer you, the single girl who started singing when she was six years old, loves to be creative, went half way round the globe by herself with the bible a Lonely Planet in her hand. You are defined by your pregnancy. “Can I help you with that?”, “Don’t do that…”, “Better not do this…”. You secretly want to tell them off but agree cause you have grown to understand that it will work best for you if you take on the advice, letting go of "I am superwoman and can do it all by myself” for now.

Pregnancy is everything.

It is a time for everything from happiness to sadness to panic to coming close to a feeling for destiny. You cry, you laugh, you smile, you loose patience, you gain patience, you feel lost, you pick yourself up and  feel stronger than ten minutes, the day, the week before.

Pregnancy is life.

It is a time to grow and learn and become something you have never thought you would be this year.

25 weeks.

24 weeks.

Dear tiny dancers,

Today you are 24 weeks old. According to babycenter you have reached the size of a corn but I know this is only partly true for you. Last week we went to see a special doctor who examined you via ultra scan for almost 2 hours because the doctors in China failed to do such tests. I got to watch you for a crazy long time of 2 hours, even got to see one of you in 3D. Your organs were checked and are all fine. All doctors that have seen you so far are big fans of your spines. You get enough nutrition and your heartbeats are regular, reminding me of the sound of drums. Until now you have only been pictures on a large plasma screen, a thought, a worry, a piece of love but your movements and actions slowly define you.

One of you is the lively one, with toes reaching my lung, making it harder for me to breathe. You are dancing a lot and whenever a doctor tries to get a glimpse of you, you turn away, making it hard for us to see you. You turn and turn and move. You kick against my lungs, making it harder to breathe but every time you move I feel you are present. I love you.

Your twin is different from you, easier to catch on screen. There is less movement and more calmness. You also kick from time to time but because you are lying with your feet down your kicks do not hurt but serve as pleasant reminders that you are there. I love you.

The doctor said that both of you are doing fine but that one of you is in comparison to babies that week including the other twin currently too small. The difference in weight and height is not life threatening but you need to grow. We all hope you do better next time I see the doctor. She will keep observing me. She is a great lady. I am sure you would have liked her too.

After I left the doctor you were all I could think of and when I spotted an open church I went in and light a candle for you. I love you and I hope you get better soon, that you gain more weight and grow more. There is still plenty of time for you to do so.

Yesterday I saw two kids in church. Maybe they were non identical twins, maybe siblings born a short time apart. They seemed close, laughed at each others silliness, each of them trying to make fun of the other but in the most charming, adorable way only siblings get to do. I looked at them thinking of you. I hope that you will be close, that you will find more than a sibling in each other, that you get to laugh, live and fight together.

Life is not easy sometimes. I keep having good days and worse ones. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and I loose focus. I question my life, the decisions I have made until I can’t make sense of it all. Your grandma and grandpa are helping a lot. They listen, they support, they tell me I will be ok. I am sure you will like them. We had difficult times over the last few years but they are good people. Everyone is excited to meet you. Everyone hopes for you to be healthy and happy. My sisters, your aunts, keep buying tiny baby clothes and are already big fans of you.

From all parts of this planet people are sending me lovely, supportive messages, telling me that I will be ok and that I will be a great mum. They tell me they believe in me. They make me strong. I know I am blessed to have them in my life.

One day I will tell you the whole story. How I ended up in China, how I met and feel in love with your dad, how I found myself surrounded by three pregnancy tests not believing that I was pregnant. I will tell you how hard it felt to come back to Germany and to deal with it all by myself. How many times I still cry and feel lost but then how many times I find myself strong again, knowing that one day we will lead a good and happy life.

You are 24 weeks today. 6 months of you and me. You have turned my life around and have become the loves of my life.

24 weeks

Without music...

"Without music life would be a mistake. "

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche 

Have a good day, everyone! <3

23 weeks

Hello. My name is Alex. Really nice to meet you. In a few - three, maybe four, maybe ??? - months I will be a mum.Yes, that´s right. Me - the girl that went half way round the globe with much enthusiasm, optimism,  too many clothes and not a single word of chinese will be a mum. First time. But not just any mum. Oh no, no, no. Someone up there really meant well for me cause - due to charming circumstances - I will be a single mother AND not of one child but how the f*** did THAT happen two children! Yeah that´s right. I, moi, woa will have twins. Yeah, you heard me. Ain`t I lucky???? Really - all I ever wanted. Thanks for listening. I am about to jump off the nearest bridge now. Have a good day now - Byeeeee.

On bad days I still feel a bit like the above. Luckily most days are good ones and I ignore the madness and the sadness and the tragic of it all and put on a smile. Cause really - what else can I do?!

It still sucks being at home, having to hide your tattoos cause your mum is close to disinherit you any second now, seeing your younger sister looking at new and big ass flats, reading how much your old students miss you... Sometimes I wanna turn back time, most bad days I don´t get my life and that´s when I feel like grabbing my friends Laura and Ashley to go back to where we were only 2 months ago: our little Hollywood, Tian Li Gardens with Jägerlids in the ground, Mc Donalds between 11am and 2pm for a portion of lunch special by the window and Cocos at 11pm on a saturday night followed by 200 dumplings ordered by my drunken flatmate. Life was simple yet mad. We complained but we loved it.

Just another saturday in Little Hollywood.

Instead I am short on cash, short on friends (well some who live near me at least), short on a sense of belonging and short on patience. I can offer a big belly, quite a fair amount of baby clothes in my closet, and TWO maternity records though. Isn´t that SOMETHING?! Yeah - that´s how I feel sometimes. What happened to standing in front of 70 chinese teenagers, riding 13 hours on chinese trains to save money but gain another adventure, taking the bus to see my friends every friday afternoon for a weekend of madness, too many drinks and dances on the stage at our favourite club??? Right now, while the tiny dancers are kicking but still inside me and therefore still something very alien to me I sometimes want it all back: the freedom, the happiness, the success and all of that in a second, delivered to my doorstep please. Thank you.

I know I am nowhere near where I want to be (accepting this or moreover turning it into something good is the hardest part for now),  that I need time and endurance and patience to work towards my goals. I know I need to let go off the pressure I put myself under, to accept what I have for now and to focus on the here and now like a wise lady in a Queens outfit told me on saturday night at my friends birthday party. It is a learning process and I hope I get there eventually.

It was my decision - so make it happen, sister. Really easier said than done sometimes.

On a lighter note, the last week held many moments, minutes, hours and days of happiness for me. Although I am currently working every single day (apart from weekends) which does exhaust me at times there were many things to look forward to: my sister coming to stay with us for a few days, being reunited with many lovely people after a long time at my friend´s birthday party, meeting a lovely twin mum who gave me much needed encouragement and her pram and my mum going to see my Dad for a few days which meant the house and car all to myself and my sister -  much time and space for take aways, shopping trips, piles of dirty dishes by the sink and doing whatever the hell you feel like.

Reading is still my number one choice over german TV, boredom, loneliness and sadness - some (pregnancy) books scare the hell out of me - some others (James Frey - you are a god!!!!) make me fall in love.

'If you go home with somebody, and they don't have books, don't fu** 'em!'

With at least another 3 months to go until I give birth I am definitely save for life in that matter.

23 weeks, ladies and gentleman.

Diet coke and three pizzas please

"You take your girl and multiply her by four" 

.... slowely on the way of turning this into reality I'd like to declare this the unofficial anthem of all pregnant ladies 2011.

Ten for one

A few weeks ago I came across a TV show which stuck to my mind ever since. There, someone introduced the concept of "Ten for one". Ten for one referring to the honorable idea of giving instead of taking. Give ten and only expect very little, namely one, in return. Smile ten times at random people - maybe one will not be utterly irritated, think you are mental, shake his/her head, walk away but actually honour your kindness and smile back.

For some reason since watching the interview I can not get this concept out of my mind. Without a doubt it a very selfless and honorable thing to do and I do firmly believe that the world would be a better place if people would be a little less selfish and more caring. But how often do we actually give without expecting anything in return?! Doesn´t it leave us with a bad feeling if our expectations are not met? What if we think we are doing someone a huge favour but the reaction is not what we expected it to be?! Who does actually give more than take? Aren´t most of us too selfish, too involved, too busy? This 3 minute interview I had witnessed got me thinking...

When I lived in China I certainly did not live up to the concept of "Give ten for one" (being in China, your family and friends as well as things like bills, taxes and other visits to authorities most of the time pretty far away, it is like my friend Tina once said: A very selfish year) but looking back there were times when I did try to give without expecting anything in return. Being employed as the only foreign teacher in a highschool did give me all the fame but also all the pressure. If there was a job to do, a role to fulfill - and believe me, chinese employers will ALWAYS find some shitty event where you, the foreigner, just has to be involved or present whether it being an official school party, a dinner, an evening at some random KTV (karaoke) bar - I´ve been to them all - I was the only one to ask or force. Luckily I quickly began to love my job and maybe that combined with my nature made me go beyond the usual hours of teaching. I ran the English club, gave a lecture about Germany to all the english teachers from my school, performed at official school parties, prepared for weeks and weeks to sing a pop song in front of 2000 Asians. Then, at my second school I babbled about my life, Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber once a week on the school radio, attended every party I was invited to and occasionally met students after class if they wanted a chat or advice.

All of those things were time consuming but great. I happily gave, did not expect much or anything in return but somehow always ended up leaving with a smile on my face and the feeling of having done something worthy. One of the things that stuck with me most though was teaching class five. Now, first class five was part of my official teaching shedule for about 3 months. Then the term ended, students made their way through the thick snow to their homes for winter vacation. After that class five was no longer grade two but grade three and therefore no longer part of my teaching shedule. But somehow I could not, unlike other classes you happily turn your back to as soon as the new shedule comes out, say good bye. These kids were just too good, too interested, too ambitious, too clever to let go. Plus, almost the entire class consisted of students from the countryside and poor backgrounds who somehow and mostly through hard work leading to amazing grades got offered a place at our school - a school in a city, aways from their homes in the chinese countryside. These kids worked harder than anyone else in the school. They did not have the newest phones or the newest pair of jeans unlike others in their grade but they had stories to tell and a hell of a lot of ambition. So I stayed. I continued teaching them, asking their english teacher for his class who most of the time happily gave it to me once a week. I did not ask for extra money or any other form of compensation. I prepared my lessons for them as much, if not even better, as for my other classes, went in once a week, taught, and came out with a smile. I felt needed, and appreciated  - I had given an hour of my time but gotten a lot back in return.

When I left China a few weeks ago I knew that they were facing their graduation exams. Quite a few had stayed in touch with me since I left the north of China in November 2010 for a new school in the south so I knew they still had them: the same dreams, hopes, ambitions and focus. They wanted to be doctors, pilots, soldiers, fashion designers. They dreamed big and worked even harder for their dreams to come true. In the last few weeks since I came back emails have started to arrive. Their messages tell me that they have made it. They got accepted for the course they had worked towards until now. Through hard work, focus and ambition they had made it a step closer to their goal. Maybe I was just a tiny part along their way but I am very glad I decided to be one. Give ten for one. It will be rewarded.

Right before I left I invited those students closest to me for a final lunch...

... followed by an  afternoon of very chinese student friendly karaoke.

22 weeks

Let me set this straight: 22 weeks pregnant could have been a lot more enjoyable but the way things turned out  for me this week changed it all. Although I have to admit things did not seem so bad at first.....

With Germany like most of Europe lying on a beach somewhere sunny, nice and all inclusive, including my student, I had the week off work. Without having to go to work and still little friends in the area I first dreaded time to go by rather slowely. Looking back now I somehow did manage to do a pretty decent job at keeping myself busy though and got some stuff done. I bought cheap curtains which I turned into colorful twin friendly creative ones (pics to follow), discovered another second hand shop with lots of baby stuff, went swimming, visited an old friend and had a lovely time, then finally went to an amazing flea market where I found loads of useful and cheap as dirt items. Also, the stroller which I am buying of another twin mum is arriving this week so the list of stuff I need is getting smaller and smaller – great, great, great.

Then, middle of the week my mum (indian, conservative, traditional, with opinions from another planet at times) discovered my secret tatoos by accident and the mood went a bit down hill for a while. With a mum who can not open up to the idea of tattoos and secretly thinks they are a sin it was painful and at times I felt like being 5 again. I got the speech, the silent treatment, the looks – kind of funny looking back at it now but at the time I almost want to put myself on the naughty step. Yes, the joy of being back and living back with your folks after a long time in chinese homes with little comfort but hell of a lot more freedom and selfishness....At times like these not that great of a change.

Like me my dad had the week off work as well which was pretty nice as it not only meant my favourite foods were in the fridge at all times but it also brought us another step towards moving rooms. With a week full of time he finally managed to sort some of his shit files out. Rooms are getting more and more emptied out and organized, furniture is being looked at and ordered -  hopefully by next months we can start changing rooms. The baby beds also arrived this week  - all white and the way I wanted them to be – well, all good expect a little detail I must have missed while scanning the offer: they did not come with a matress.

End of the week I then got a phone call from my hero my gynagologyst saying that tests revealed an infection in my urine which meant he had to put me on antibiotics for ten days. Called me, said it, then went on holiday and left me with the consequences. Yeay, yeay,  I´ll do it. Whatever. Wait....No! No! Noooooooooo!!!!!!!!

Now, antibiotics are never fun to take. They ruin the joys of drinking, being exposed to direct sun light and restrict you in other fun areas in your life. During pregnancy, however, I find the heaviness of it all is being taken to another level. Maybe not for everyone but definitely for me: Female, 28 years old, single and currently carrying 2 more people. My body is screaming exhaustion. I feel more exhausted than when I taught 75 chinese teenagers from 9 to 5, five days a week during my first trimester of pregnancy which largely consisted of teaching Justin Bieber songs under a lot of nauseaousness. That was already bad enough but the combination of being pregnant with the side effects of the tablets: This is when the REAL fun begins, people.

Since saturday I have been feeling like a wreck. All weekend I have spent more time in bed than anywhere else. Heart burn has become my new best friend and not the good kind. It is driving me INSANE. After I take a tablet all I want is to lie down and not move. It is going to be interesting how I will survive to go to work every day for the next week! Unfortunately this is how long the tablets will be my new and very much unwanted friends. So far I am feeling a bit better today. Let´s hope this lasts at least until I get back from work.

All in all 22 weeks pregnant is not as enjoyable as it could have been. Before the unwanted friends entered my life and my bedside table I did come across a new element of pregnancy though: Being extremly clumsy and forgetful. Until I declaired my bed the new place to be I constantly bumped into things and people, forgot why I rode my bike into town for, drove up a one way street  - it is like my uterus is expanding that much that it is cutting off the oxygen for my brain. WTF? Ting bu dong.

On a lighter note there is lots of kicking going on inside me - especially in the evenings and mornings. I also found a midwive who will guide me until after I give birth and who will come around in a few weeks for her first visit. 22 weeks. 12, 14, 16 more to go? Who knows....Keep kicking tiny dancers and heart burn - please leave the room. Now. 

22 weeks

21 weeks

After weeks of sorting out my health cover to be reactivated and many nerve - wracking moments later at 11am this morning I finally got to see the only and most important man in my current life: my gynaecologist. After a lot of ting bu dong (chinese: I don´t understand) moments which occured basically everytime I went for check ups in my hospital in Luzhou, it was now all very clear: very german, very understandable, organized and with the newest gossip mags in the waiting room  a minimum of waiting time.Weird was how my doctor still remembered me from 2009 when I last saw him - right before I hopped on that plane to Beijing. Smart guy, that man. I was impressed.

So today  -tata - I finally became proud owner of my second pregnancy record. One chinese, one german - testaments of the crazy journey I have been and am on, my childrens origin and memory of my life for the past 5 months.

Pregnancy record. One german, one chinese. Guess not many women belong to THAT club?!

After numerous tests (as neither I nor the doctor can read chinese we basically had to start from scratch with treatment) it was finally time for my favourite part of the appointment: the ultrascan. 

Both babies (or baby 1 and baby 2 as the doctor named them today) are fine, currently still a week behind single babies ( in terms of weight and height) but with twins I was assured this is perfectly normal. Everything seemed fine, the tiny dancers look as healthy as can be. Doctor pleased. Mummy pleased. What more can a day offer?!

Besides a bad hair cut and two days with very low mood but nice chocolate to compensate I am doing better this week. A spontaneous visit from my friend Sarah on sunday, two beautiful surprise gifts from people I have not seen in a while, a phone call from an old friend, as well as the bed I managed to discover on sale and order - life has given me sunny moments lately. 

I still feel tired and exhausted (carrying around that extra weight increasingly prooves to be difficult and the number on  the scale in the doctors office today confirmed why I have been feeling like a whale lately) but I am taking it easy -  sometimes I venture out, sometimes I stay in. Right now it is what works best. Sleeping is also becoming an increasing challenge, the usual visit to the bathroom is currently at 5 every morning - I could go on. Pregnany is both: a bliss and a challenge. This quote by US writer Carrie Fisher which I came across today kind of says it all:

Everything grows rounder and wider and weirder, and I sit here in the middle of it all and wonder who in the world you will turn out to be.
-- Carrie Fisher

 

21 weeks

The highlight of my day: baby 1 (bottom) and baby 2 (top) healthy and kicking.