There has been so much going on that I haven’t been able to slow my mind and put it all into words.
I had a scan the other day, well over a week ago now but it is still fresh in my mind. I remember how elated I felt, the smile that wouldn’t leave my face and the perfect little being kicking around on the screen before me.
I remember the lovely lady who did the scan and how grateful I was for her gentle and friendly ways. I remember wanting to laugh and cry but not wanting to move or make the sonographer’s job any harder.
I remember thinking that the moment was perfect. That having this little one growing inside me is nothing short of perfect.
After the scan we had to pop in and see the doctor, who is also a high risk specialist.
The appointment went well. The doctor was lovely. I have realised that when dealing with people this has become a high priority to me. My thin skin seems to have taken all it can of abruptness and people who haven’t the time to smile.
Her words, however, shocked us.
“Your baby is perfect, no worries there”. By now I’m feeling like the luckiest woman alive. The months of sickness are briefly forgotten.
The wonderful doctor went on to say “It isn’t your baby I’m worried about. It is you.”
I can honestly say that the rest of the conversation hasn’t really hit me yet. I’m still high on seeing my gorgeous little being growing inside me.
But essentially we have more trips to the city to see specialists in a range of fields this week.
The doctor we have been conversing with has made it clear that if I was her patient she would have me moving to the city weeks before the birth. Much like we had to with our first born, but in that instance it was due to the isolated town we were living in, and delivering my baby there.
For a variety of reasons the doctor, who is exceptional, is referring me on to somebody else. Whether or not he will feel the same we will not know for a few weeks.
My husband says not to worry, that we will do whatever we have to do.
I think everything will be fine. I think moving away is unnecessary. But I’m just me and I’m basing this on intuition, which doesn’t really cut it in a room full of doctors or even with my very sensible, very practical, very scientific husband.
I’ve had three births that, in regards to my body, were what the doctor’s term uneventful. I don’t want to move into rented accommodation in a town where I don’t know anyone. I don’t want to take my daughter out of school for a month and at that stage of the pregnancy I just want to be home.
However, we will of course do whatever we have to do.
It all reminds me of a sign that hung from my Pa’s shed. It read –
‘Life was never meant to be easy’.
At the time I thought he was a cranky old man. A somewhat loveable and oddly amusing man, but a cranky old man never the less.
Now that I have a few years behind me I realise just how right he was.
- 4 cups desiccated coconut*
- 2 rounded tablespoon honey**
- 2 tablespoon cacao or cocoa
- Place the coconut into your processor and blend at high speed until it resembles melted white chocolate. You may need to scrape the coconut back onto the blades two or three times to get it completely smooth.
- Add the remaining ingredients and pulse to combine.
- Spoon teaspoons of the mixture into your silicon moulds and use your fingers to gently press down and smooth over the tops.
- Place in the fridge to set.
I made 30 small chocolates and 2 disks in a mini silicon muffin tray.
*you will need a high powered processor to blend the coconut to a butter. Alternatively you can use a 1 cup of coconut butter.
**you can replace the honey with rice malt syrup if you prefer
My family, friends and I all love these chocolates. They are simple and inexpensive to make. The ingredients are readily available and they don’t melt in thirty seconds.
I think they make a perfect gift for many occasions, anything from Easter to ‘I’m thinking of you’. That’s assuming you and your family don’t eat them before they make it out the door.
I hope you enjoy them as much as we do. Be sure to let me know.