When the tide gets high

Where to start? At 28 we get married, at 29 get our first child and at 30 we welcome twins.

Wait, got pregnant again at 30 with twins or delivered them at 30?

Haha, delivered them. I was that breastfeeding Mom still figuring out how to handle a baby then boom, pregnant again. And just when I thought that was all, we realized that we were expecting twins.

Okay, life switched to the fast lane real quick, yeah?

Yeah, when we started parenting the three children. A one-year-old and a set of twins. Any parent will tell you that one child is A LOT of work. Ours were three, and we were just 30. At birth, the twins came out okay. The girl was however put on oxygen and so the attention shifted to her. It did not occur to us at that point that the one who would need all the attention in the next coming months was the boy. Not then.

At what point did you know?

I can’t say that I knew, at least not before the doctor’s prognosis. Thing is, I occasionally thought he was a fluid child.


Yeah, I don’t know how else to put it. I would hold him, and he would slouch. His twin sister on the other hand was firm and all bubbly- but again children are different so I would brush it off. But truth is, you can only brush it off for so long when you have twins. You notice all the differences and compare milestones. As a Mom, there is also that connection with your child that will tell you when something is (probably) off. I had that uncomfortable feeling that would just not go away. So on one evening (and several others to come) I told my husband that maybe, we needed to get the little boy checked. His first opinion was that we probably needed to be a bit more patient with the baby. The feeling that maybe something was off did not go away. At some point, you feel like you are just being paranoid and really need to be a bit more patient with your child.

Anywho, I came home from work one day, strapped him on my back and took him to the hospital. I walked there… it was not that far; but it was not near either.

(Folks, you get the picture? Me too).

The doctor did the checks and said that the child was in perfect shape-except that he had a murmur in his heart. Worthwhile if you could get his heart checked further just to be sure.

Did that scare you?

It shook me for a bit. Just a small bit. There was the comfort that came with the first part of the doctor’s comments-that he was in perfect shape. And that’s what I wanted to believe more. So I got home and told my husband that yeah he’s good, but there’s a murmur in his heart….

Coincidentally, our best couple dropped by around that time and I mentioned to them. She, the best woman-a doctor, had a cocktail of reactions all at once. To me, I could immediately tell that she had noticed the difference in the children but had been too cautious to ask or comment before. It was like it finally made sense to her and had just given her the answers for  all the questions she had wanted to ask but could not because of how delicate a topic it was.

And did she say anything, did she ask?

Nuh, she instead said that she was going to immediately organize for an appointment with a cardiologist in Mater where she worked. And she did so rather quickly.


Inserts break….


We took the twins to the cardiologist. Until this point, I had not for a moment thought that our baby was battling a congenital heart defect. The scans were done in uncomfortable silence and we waited in hopeful anticipation.

The silence finally broke. The cardiologist scanned both hearts again, this time explaining how a normal heart looked like (with the girl as the ‘prototype’) and then how a ‘not normal’ heart looked like. He had hole in the heart, his valves were not functioning properly either. Atrial septal defects he said.

He went on and on but my ability to comprehend anything he was saying was long gone. I don’t remember much of what he said but I remember the images of my baby’s heart to the last detail. I doubt I blinked at all even when my eyes got shiny, then wet and shortly after -fully soaked in tears. I saw everything with such clarity through that moment, occasionally opening my mouth to gasp for air because I was suffocating inside. I did not think or pause to feel the moment, I just looked and looked. And maybe I was looking for answers from the screen, or for the strength to take the news in and gather my maternal guard to be strong for our child, our very young family and for myself too.


The corrective procedure could only be done from India- and had be done before the baby hit 6 months.

Nothing was said on our way back home and even in that moment, we understood every word that went unsaid between us. That we barely had time to get the finances (that we did not have) in order, that we needed to figure out how this India story would work and get papers rather urgently; and yeah, we had three children between the two of us; and they all needed us (one a little more than the rest) …


 (By the way folks, I don’t know if the wow there was necessary but that was my best contribution to the conversation at that point in time. And she got me just for the record).


So yeah, we decided that I would go to India with the twins and one nanny; and he would stay behind with the first born and the other nanny. Cigna insurance had come through in ways I had not imagined possible. Can you imagine they even covered for our tickets and my stay and that of El? Suffice to say we only had to worry about the Nanny’s stay. Which was covered anyway because we had raised a good amount of money during that time from family, friends and well-wishers. And so we left for India and for a moment life felt good again.

Nice, tell me about India

No not nice. Forget everything I said before about life being tough, it was not… I was just joking, seriously. India redefined the meaning of tough.

The hospital was in Chennai. On the night before the procedure, I was instructed to prepare the baby for surgery. You know, no food , no fluids and so on and so forth. I woke up at 4 in the morning to a black out. The whole area was all dark, remember the Chennai floods?

Not quite but google is our friend folks, so here we go.

*On 1 December, heavy rains led to inundation in many areas of Chennai. By afternoon, power supplies were suspended to 60% of the city while several city hospitals stopped functioning…. For the first time since its founding in 1878, the major newspaper The Hindu did not publish a print edition on 2 December, as workers were unable to reach the press building. The Southern Railways cancelled major train services and Chennai International Airport was closed until 6 December.*

I lived through that, firsthand. The hospital was dysfunctional for days and hopelessly so because the generators were covered in water at the basement. I am grateful that it happened just before my boy went to surgery because he would not have survived without the life support machines after surgery you know. Lots of people in ICU died owing to the black out and floods. The surgery had to be postponed. ( and remember we were racing against the 6 months window). Meanwhile, Telcos were down and therefore I could not reach my husband or anyone at home. Just me, the kids and a nanny. We had not bought any food just yet and so the situation was bleak. You know, floods everywhere, black out, hungry and dehydrated for myself with two kids looking up to me for every form of nourishment. Our neighbors gave us some biscuits to keep us going. And for days we survived on biscuits and water-that we tapped directly from the rain through the hospital windows. Then floods went down and we moved to a hotel. Scratch that, we moved to a lodging that was quite shabby and I got diarrhea. A bad one.

Fortunately, Telcos got back up and the insurance got another hospital that could perform the surgery in New Delhi. Life started looking up and my diarrhea miraculously disappeared as soon as we got to new Delhi. I took in El for the surgery and went to look for an apartment right after because we needed to find a sustainable plan for our stay sooner rather than later.

Did you get one?

I did and thought the storm had calmed down. Then my nanny suddenly  got dengue fever. So there I was, with a baby who had just gone through a major surgery, a nanny with severe fever, and another infant to take care of. My nanny was due for admission but that meant that I would not be able to visit my son anymore since I could not leave the twin alone in the house, and children are not allowed into hospital wards. We came to an agreement that they would not admit the nanny but I would be taking her to the hospital daily.

El was in ICU for 10 days, 8 of which my nanny was down ill.

10 days?

 Yeah, 10. It took him long to get back because his lungs had a lot of fluid that needed to be drained. The nanny was also not at a good mental state to take care of his twin, you know Dengue fever make you sorta mad. So when I say India redefined the meaning of tough, I mean these 8 days. When my son was in ICU, my nanny with severe fever and my other baby looking up to me to take care of her.

It got better though, my nanny recovered and I moved in to the hospital to be with my son after he left ICU.

Life in the hospital and away from ICU was bearable for the larger part, until one night when I was watching and noticed that the TV was moving, the bed too! It was a major earthquake. For the first time in this season, I prayed. Not really praying but I told God that we had had enough. “If you want us to live, let us -in peace. And if you want us to die, take us-now.

We are here now so.

How did you release the stress during this time?

I never had the chance to release it at that time. I never even got the chance to just cry and let myself crash during this period because I had to ‘have myself together’ for the sake of my kids (and the nanny too). So 90% was held in … But at some point you are bound to reach your breaking point. For me it happened on one afternoon when I was having a regular chat with the doctor. It could have been something he said or his tone, or nothing at all… but that was my trigger. Every part of me fell apart and I started crying -uncontrollably. I cried every frustration and every heartache out. I cried for my son and for the days in the ICU when his little body was all covered in endless tubes and life support machines . I finally let out the tears that I held back on the day that he left the theatre looking like nothing I had ever imagined. For every day and night that I wondered if he would pull through this. So for many minutes , I let the tears flow, totally unable to express myself in words to the now utterly shocked doctor who was endlessly asking me if I was okay or needed some time out. Eventually, my voice got back and amid sobs, I told him that I had to get back home immediately. I was fed up with the hospital and my life there.

Shortly after my sobbing therapy was over ,I called my husband and told him that I was not going to spend one more night in the hospital so he needed to make it work. And he did, he made it work despite it being a holiday-26th of December.

When we got back home, I finally let the guard down. For two weeks, I was mentally and emotionally off. Going through such an experience can easily break you because of the toll it takes on your emotions as an individual and I am grateful this season did not break us as a couple.

*** ***

What did you learn from it?

I did not take any life notes honestly. I just kept reminding myself that I was not an exception or special in any way.  When life serves you with tragedy after tragedy in quick succession, it gets tempting to question God. Why me, why us? I mean, God , why really? But no one is more deserving of tragedy than another… and no one is exempt either.

His grace remained sufficient, people prayed with and for us. No actually, people prayed for us and I look back and think that their prayers held us. I had resigned to the fact that the outcome could go either way; and either way was okay with me because at the end of the day God had his plan that was beyond us.

And how’s the little one?

He is all grown now and he is catching up on the milestones. As a Mom, I feel so much pride seeing how far he has come.

*This is me blogging about my recent date which turned out to be a heart to heart session. Her story has been on my head since and I thought I could as well blog about it for you who is going through or has gone through a storm that almost broke you. I hope that it brought some sunshine your way and reminded you that it might be stormy now, but it can’t rain for forever.

It does get better with time: and it will!

A day in time…


It started on one fine evening in the beginning of time; when the clock stood still for a moment and it occurred to me that this was THE one. He ticked every box (at least then) and it was clear in my head that this was the ‘IT’.

Over the next many months, I talked to him all day long; and spoke about him at every available opportunity- accorded and un-accorded alike. I am fine became a response of old and I quickly picked to… ‘The going is great, I am so in love and by the way I am also getting married soon🥰’. Depending on my own judgement of how much time you had for our chat, I would happily reintroduce myself as a pro bono advisor regarding the doctrine of ‘one true love’ and ‘good men still exist’ and ‘chivalry is not dead’. I stayed besotted, nice and doting on this Man who was showing me love and care in a way that I never thought I was deserving of; just a girl so gleefully optimistic of the promise of an unending love. Still.


Please go back and see the four words before I inserted, in brackets *at least then * in paragraph one above.

Does he still tick every box? Absolutely!  But over and above that, he also came with some extras/accessories which, not few a times, rile me to the last bone. This compact set of flaws that I had not subscribed to.  Hold that thought!

*9 August 2020.

Today is special! It’s experiential day. You may, or may not know, but we are currently undertaking premarital counselling classes. Me, mine: Another Five and Theirs. I don’t know about them but I am about to ‘my husband’ people to death. Let me consult with my husband, I will say. My husbae had a similar experience, I will chip into conversations unapologetically. Excuse me for a few minutes,  my husband is calling me… my husband this, my husband that, my husband here and my husband there.



Welcome on-board and once again- congratulations on your new role. Be it a promotion at work, a switch of careers or organizations or you are kick-starting your career. While this can be a very exciting experience, it comes with a lot of anxiety and uncertainties and here’s why…

  1. You will have moments of immense self-doubt.

Between figuring out your new role and getting to master it, there will be moments of unadulterated self-doubt.  On one hand, you want to be the ‘wow’ newbie and on the other hand you are starting to realize that eeerm, green is what you feel: majorly because there is a whole lot of learning, unlearning and relearning ahead of you. You find yourself constantly trading between trying to demonstrate that you are up to the task and figuring out what you are meant to do, how best to do it and how to create your space within the system.


Silent Tale

He had the type of face one could easily forget even when looking at it. But he also had a manly demeanor that intrigued her. For the next couple of months after meeting (in no manner that called for tea to tell), she found herself mesmerized by this manly-yet paradoxical-demeanor. He was neither polite nor impolite in his approach, neither too much in giving of his attention nor too thirsty for her attention either, neither express about his intentions with her nor vague in his actions that to any rational human implied his intention. In a nutshell, he was neither here nor there right from the word go. Difficult to read; and a man wrapped in mystery is worth a fantasy trip, no? she thought in awe.


Sunny side

Happy 2019!

Between my last post in October last year and now, I traveled to the moon, passed by hell, got stuck in my own space for a moment and now I am back on earth, back down to earth; no pun intended. (Sips tea). Okay, what I am saying in many words is that a lot happened between then and now; but that is no excuse for my inconsistency. This year, (and I like to keep my word), will see a lot of consistency from me.

Anywho, somewhere in my roller-coaster, I found myself in this heart to heart tête-à-tête. I don’t know how we ended up in the part of what we could have done differently….like if you knew what you know now, what would you have done differently.

Nothing, I said.  I think in life, there are no misplaced steps…..we need all of them; I added.

Is it? She asked, obviously underwhelmed


Remembering my grandmother

I miss her in big portions. Some days more than others 😦 !


Before our birthdays nowadays, we (generation Y and Z kids) have this thing we call #birthdaymonth and #birthdayweek. I tell you this because July was my birthday month and 9th July 2018 was the beginning of my birthday week. My grandmother took her last breath on this day-9th July 2018.

Our conversations never had any order in particular, but there was the general flow. That she would see me from as far as the gate and call me by name. That we would exchange pleasantries and then out of the blues she would say…

I am here where you left me waiting for my day, orthis my body does not have energy, my eyes can’t see anymore, my feet can no longer take me to the farm”.

It was always hard for me to believe her. It is difficult to believe that the woman who called you by name from miles away could possibly fault her eyesight.

It’s with this same difficulty that I received the news of her demise. (more…)

Perfectly imperfect matches…

The experiences here may be personal, but the truths are universal.
For the girls waiting on their men, the girlfriends trying to keep their men, the married women tolerating their men, the divorcees who got fed up with their men; and the hopelessly enamored who can’t get enough of their men… For our men, the ones exhausted of trying too hard to please their women, the clueless ones riding in the tide trying to figure it out and the ones who found their perfectly imperfect match…this is to you!
The six stages of relationships…


Quarter steps


In the village where I was born and raised, being 25 was synonymous to ‘when I grow up’. After 25, therefore, the script was meant to change from ‘when I grow up I want to be XYZ’ to ‘I am that person I used to dream about’. There is the general delusion that between 25 and 30, life is about breakthrough after breakthrough, gaining identity (Both individually and by extension), happiness, success and every dream come true.


Nothing close. This age bracket is about excelling in your side hustle as the chief-chef of wrong choices and about perfecting the art of serving yourself with humble pies. Remember those childhood/campus days of ‘who? Me? I can never do that, my pride cannot even let me think of such a thing and stuff like that? This phase makes you a master/mistress in the art of eating that pride with quiet manners.

Quarter life crisis…

Dating: If you are not already married or dealing with baby daddy/baby mama issues; you are most likely stuck in your love life.


I did, I do, I will…

Welcome on board, I am more than glad to have you.


I have just finished transferring ALL my posts from the other side. Earlier today I gave myself a ted talk on attachment issues, letting go; and about being open and willing to start all over again. To step out of the comfort zone and start something new…



When I first stepped to the blogosphere, I worried if I would strike my readers as an intelligent enough newbie, worthy enough of the online space, driven enough and with content solid enough to get a community in a world that was crowded with wordsmiths, orators, brilliant writers, professional ranters, love doctors: People who sound better on pen than on voice… I worried if I would find my niche and if I would ever find my voice in a space where I was one in a million, billions possibly. I second guessed myself on so many occasions, put virtual stop signs on uncountable instances and warned myself enough times. I started the journey only certain of my uncertainty. And then one day I came across this brainy quote that ‘great people do things before they are ready. They do things before they know that they can even do it’… So I stepped to the blogging world anyway. I did!


Gratitude series…


Confession! Number 8 was reserved. But I have taken it for me. Not myself really, let’s call it a note from the editor in chief-ess.

When I heard the first Christmas Carole on the last day of November, it hit me that the baby in 2017 had grown to old age real quick and would soon be down, possibly in a grandiosely attended requiem mass to celebrate a life well lived…How time flies!

The gratitude challenge is my way of saying thank you.


To the people who add value in my life, whose presence makes me better every day and whose work continues to make the world a better in the own special ways. To the people who journey with me in my daily life, through the highs and lows, the pain and the gain; and have believed in me in immense ways. To associations and institutions which have trusted me enough to accord me responsibility in one field or another.This is me taking a challenge to let people see themselves in my eyes, and to take the back to moments in time when their actions or words made a whole of a difference. To let them know that I bookmarked those moments and once in a while, I revisit them; with nothing but a grateful heart. This is me telling you that if I ever stood at the pulpit for you, ‘this is what I would say’.
(8 of 31- About the challenge)