Confessions of a chocolate mama - breastfeeding in public

The issue of breastfeeding in public has been on my heart for a while now. I haven't written about it for two reasons - firstly because I honestly have not had the courage to do so, and secondly because there are thousands of articles, debates, forums, groups, movements, you name it...that focus on this same issue. However I am realizing that it doesn't really matter what people may think of me after this post, nor does it matter that there are countless writings on it, because I have something valuable to say!

About three months ago I came across a beautiful picture on Facebook of a Ugandan woman and her baby breastfeeding while working in the fields. I loved this picture, as there was something about it that was so special...it was not posed or forced, but rather merely a woman and a baby doing what is perfectly natural to them.  I commented on it saying, "I love this picture, it reminds me of growing up in Ngangelizwe, Umtata, where I was exposed to breast feeding as a natural and beautiful act, not in the least bit offensive."  There were in fact hundreds of comments for this picture by women from all over the world. One woman said, "Lucky her, I wish we American mamas had the freedom that mamas in Africa have." What an incredibly ironic statement in so many ways! 

One of the ironies is that I too, as an African mama living in a more developed and sophisticated African town than my humble Ngangelizwe township, wish for the same freedom. In most African cultures including my Xhosa culture it has always been acceptable to breastfeed a baby anywhere, anytime and in front of anyone. No movements, forums or pro-breast feeding mommy groups needed to encourage and support it, just a natural thing. But sadly, it seems the more "educated" and "sophisticated" we are becoming, the less acceptable feeding a baby the natural way in public is becoming!

A few months before I gave birth to Olivia, I was walking around in the local mall. I walked past a woman who looked like she might have travelled from a more rural area outside of town. She was feeding her baby whilst seated on one of the benches, with no fancy "nursing cover" or anything of the sort. One of the workers in the mall walked up to her and kindly directed her to the mall's baby feeding room, which was really more like a corner in the toilet. I offered to help this woman carry her bags, and as we were walking to the baby room she was utterly confused as to what had just happened - totally innocent and unaware of how different raising a baby in the city is from raising a baby in a township or rural area. Welcome to "sophistication" lady! 

I was having tea with a friend in my home one day when our domestic helper witnessed me fighting a kicking Olivia, trying to keep a nursing cover over her as I fed her. When my friend left she was so curious to find out why I would "hide" a feeding baby, and it led to a long and interesting discussion. I'll never forget some of the wise words she shared with me that day: "Your baby always comes first, and sometimes that means respecting her needs above respecting your friend"s culture". 

I'm not writing this post to prove some point or fight for some cause, and neither do I have a hidden agenda. I'm just simply sharing something that's been on my heart for a long time. I don't have anything against nursing covers, in fact I'm a sucker for covers with pretty designs and details - the very gift I asked my hubby to get for me for my baby shower! And neither do I have any negative feelings about designated baby changing and feeding rooms in malls and restaurants. I use them all the time, and as long as they are in decent shape and in a convenient spot, I would choose nursing comfortably in the room over doing so in a crowded and busy mall. I also appreciate that the owners and managers of these places invest not only in the paying customers but in families as a whole. And most of all, I certainly have nothing against mothers who would rather breast feed their babies in a more private environment. 

All I am saying is, just like the American mama thousands of miles away from where I am, I too would love to feel free...free to choose where, when and how I would like to feed my baby...free to enjoy the most intimate, beautiful and natural way of nurturing my baby without fearing to cause offense to anyone...free to put my baby's needs before those of a stranger or even a friend!

Happy Day of Goodwill

In South Africa the 26th of December is a public holiday formerly known as Boxing Day. As a child, I always thought it referred to the sport boxing! I never could figure out the connection between the sport and the holiday. I still don't know why it was called that, but I guess I could just do a google search!

After 1994 the name of the holiday was changed to "Day of Goodwill". Personally when I think of goodwill, what comes to mind is; generosity, kindness, love, caring, and sacrifice. This year I have experienced all of these acts in ways I never have before. From strangers, beloved friends and family and most of all from my own beautiful little family; my Vanilla and my Caramel.

Today I am reminded of what a precious year it has been for us, the beautiful moments we have shared and the challenges that have only made us stronger and closer. I love you. You are the best people to "do" life with :-)

P.S. A special thank you to Michelle of MG photography East London for a fun and awesome shoot. Thank you for capturing our family so magically and beautifully.

Peach lovin'

When she sees a peach her face lights up and her feet start kicking in excitement! She then grabs and dives into it with much pleasure and enjoyment. There are simply not enough words to describe the love she has for peaches!

Enjoy the pictures :-)

Melting moments

By Scott Worley

Perhaps Psalm 8 says it best…From the mouths of babes and nursing infants You have ordained strength.  I love this verse, yet only very recently have I begun to truly understand why, as I’ve seen it lived out.

I still vividly remember that day in August 2009 when I was visiting my parents in the US.  I knew it was the right time to share the news that I was seeing someone in South Africa, that she was in fact the love of my life, that I wanted to ask her to marry me, that I wanted to bring her home that Christmas to meet them…and that she is Xhosa.  Whew, quite a lot to take in I’m sure!  I knew it would be a difficult conversation, challenging in so many ways considering such a seeming ocean of racial and cultural difference with so many accompanying fears and concerns.  What might we experience as an interracial couple in South Africa of all places, with its still recent troubled past?  What might our children thus go through as they grow up?  What might other family and friends think?    Would all of our seemingly extreme differences create more trouble than happiness in the long run?  Yet as much as all this was to take in, bless their heart, mom and dad felt my own heart in the matter, loved me and gave me their blessing to invite Yolanda into our home. 

The result?  All that fear largely fell away the moment everyone met.  My parents and all their friends loved Yolanda!  (Really, who in their right mind wouldn’t?)  And a mere few months later, there we all were together again, this time in East London, as different families and nations and cultures all came together under one roof to celebrate our wedding!  What an exhilarating feeling, on top of everything else that glorious day, to see God at work, transforming former separation into newfound unity and paving the way toward new unforeseen horizons of possibility.  I had stepped out in faith, acting on God’s voice in my heart, and my family and friends I grew up with were somehow experiencing enrichment in their own lives as a result.

Well just last week I have experienced yet another milestone on this journey, as mom and dad came to visit us and to meet their beautiful granddaughter Olivia for the first time!  Their arrival at the airport was utterly surreal, as I watched them reach out and embrace her…family meeting family, shared blood converging from across the world and across generations, young gazing in wonderment upon old, old teary eyed and beaming with smiles upon young.  Labels based on perceived differences, which tragically control and imprison so many in our world, had no place here.  There was only love and joy and celebration and thanksgiving at this beautiful, innocent new life, our perfect gift from God.  As a result, mom and dad are simply proud grandparents anew yet again (my brother and his wife have three children already!).  They now have first-hand experience with Olivia’s unconditionally loving way, not to mention her unending cuteness and the utterly undoing beauty in her eyes, which she inherited from mommy.

So did Olivia have to strain and struggle and strive, meeting with top level global advisors and devising complex socioeconomic strategies, in order to overcome such a world of societal boundary lines and separation?  No.  She simply was…who God made her to be. 

And this love has opened up a universe of new dimension and possibility in my parents’ lives, as they have been brought closer…and closer…and closer still to the heart of God, with enhanced understanding of His love for all His children.  This will in turn positively affect how they continue to live, and undoubtedly all those whose lives they touch - making the world a more beautiful place where differences are increasingly embraced, celebrated and ultimately shared, rather than pushed away, judged and condemned.  THIS is nothing short of miraculous, and comes from a source far stronger in power than the best laid plans of mice and men.

From the mouths of babes and nursing infants You have ordained strength… 

Our beloved 8-month-old Olivia…what strengths could such a baby possibly have that can change the entire world?  Well, for starters she is a daughter of the most-high God, a unifier, a reconciler, a peace maker, a bridge builder, a love giver, an identity proclaimer, a horizon expander, a life celebrator, and a heart melter…

Yes, go ahead, I dare you…Gaze into her eyes, let her draw you in, and let the pure colours of her love melt your heart.  Then look within the resulting puddle, behold your own reflection and see more clearly who God has made you to be!

Every little girl deserves a hair bow!

I love making these crochet hair bows for two reasons; they are super easy to make and they look so adorable on little girls (and big girls too!).

I would love to put a smile on some little princess's face by giving away a set of six bows. If you are in South Africa and are a mommy to a little girl who would love and appreciate these enter the competition by emailing the name and age of your little one to worley.yolanda@gmail.com

Happy holidays!

Confessions of a sleep deprived mama

The past few weeks Olivia has not been sleeping well at all, some nights waking up every thirty minutes or so. I've been fairly strong and trying my best to keep a good and positive attitude about it. But after last night, I am feeling thoroughly exhausted. The lack of sleep is getting to me physically and emotionally and I'll admit, right now I'm feeling really sorry for myself! I might even later regret writing this, but that's alright because sometimes the adventure of parenthood is accompanied by challenges that are as real and true as the beautiful moments.

One of the hundred times I went to answer her cry last night all I wanted to do was put her in her crib, put earphones in my ears and pretend I couldn't hear it! As I held her in my arms, nursing her back to sleep, I could hear all sorts of self accusations playing like a broken record in my head..."You spoilt her, you shouldn't nurse her to sleep, you shouldn't rock her, you shouldn't do this, you shouldn't do that..." I felt like such a failure and I could feel the tears building up in my eyes, even as I blinked and they rolled down my face. Well one such teardrop hit her sleepy face and her reaction and expression were just priceless, as she looked up at me with such alert eyes and gave me the purest of smiles. I couldn't help myself, I just laughed!

Today, out of complete desperation, I started searching the internet for a book on gentle sleep solutions. But before I clicked on "Purchase", I came to my senses..."No, not another book Yolanda!". I've read so many books on parenting styles and how to conquer different issues with babies, but sometimes they bring me more confusion than anything else. I actually wonder if, had I not read all the books and articles on babies' sleep, my expectations of how babies are "supposed" to sleep would perhaps be different. I don't know, but right now the last thing I need is another book!

I'm beginning to wonder if too much exposure to too many ideas and information affects how we parent our children (or at least somewhat impressionable people like me). I was sharing my lack of sleep story with a lady who came to help us with cleaning today. She has raised eight children, five of her own and three grandchildren...No parenting books, subscriptions to baby magazines or access to Google, but rather merely with advice that has been passed on from generation to generation. She started flowing in conversation, and it didn't seem like she was digging deep within for some profound advice. She was just a mother simply sharing her experiences. "None of my eight babies were ever the same. All babies are different: some are really good sleepers, some are not, some are good at self soothing, some are not, and even when you think you've figured out what 'kind' your baby is, she might change depending on what stage of development she's in. So don't worry, you are a good parent. Just love her" was basically what she said.

Wow! As physically tired as I was feeling, I suddenly felt so emotionally refreshed! She didn't tell me anything new that I had not heard from my own mom, who has raised four children all by herself, but I just needed to hear it again.

I'm desperate for some good sleep. It will do the three of us a lot of good. But if we continue to have sleepless nights, I will try to remember those simple, wise words that have stood the test of time, and keep a good attitude. I'll cry if I need to, but I will keep reminding myself that this stage too will pass :-)

Hooked! Creative Family Day Sneak Peak

I haven't written any blog posts the past two weeks because literally all my spare time has been spent with a hook and yarn. I have been busy making some crochet items for the Creative Family Day which will be held at our church this coming Saturday. I regret not starting earlier as I'm now having to accomplish a lot of work in a short space of time, but I'm not complaining as I'm doing one of my favourite things!

I couldn't help myself, I just have to share these pictures of my sweet Caramel in some of the items I've crocheted. Enjoy the sneak preview and if you are around East London on Saturday morning come join us and get lots of handmade gifts for your loved ones!

Carrying Caramel

Poor Scott, he must have had the shock of his life when he came home one afternoon to find his four months pregnant wife curled up on the bed in the foetal position crying hysterically. I had sobbed many times during my pregnancy, but this cry was a "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" kind of cry. No, it wasn't the pregnancy itself that had me in that state, it was the negative comments I was getting from people, most of whom were random strangers, but it hurt even more when they came from dear friends. That afternoon a friend had very insensitively shared with me how fat I was becoming. The previous day while taking a walk at the beach, an older lady came up to me and said, "You must be expecting a boy, I can tell by how ugly you are looking." What? Did you just blatantly tell me that I'm ugly?! And it seemed to happen nearly everyday. Yet as piercing as the comments about my physical appearance tended to be, it paled in comparison to the anger I felt when complete strangers walked up to me and told me how horribly painful giving birth is and how I should expect to experience the worst pain I've ever felt!

On the other hand, whenever I received any positive comments about my pregnancy, I treasured them. Sometimes I wrote them down in my journal and read them over and over again, just to encourage and build myself up. One such encouragement came from a lady who was visiting our church, when I was around five or six months along. She approached me and began speaking so positively about the miracle of giving birth. With all the nightmares and scary thoughts I was having at that point, I have no doubt in my mind that she was a God-given gift! I recorded her words in my journal and read them every time I felt fearful about the impending labour and birth. She later sent me the story of the birth of her youngest daughter, and I had never heard such a beautiful account of birth. I will forever be grateful for the encouragement I received from that lady. My expectancy instantly changed. Although I feared the inevitable pain, I likewise looked forward to a beautiful and miraculous experience. Every time I felt discouraged, run-down or scared out of my pants, I would remind myself of this and the many other encouragements I received. 

About four weeks ago I was at a baby store shopping for nappies and other essentials when I spotted a very tired-looking, heavily pregnant lady seated on the floor. Here was a perfect opportunity to bless someone by pouring the same kind of love and encouragement all over her! I walked up to her and started sharing with her my beautiful birthing story. Fortunately she didn't think I was weird, in fact she opened up her heart and started sharing how exhausted she was and how scared she was feeling about what was to come. She was so grateful for the encouraging words. We then chatted away like old friends, so much that after the conversation she asked me to help her choose a crib for her baby!

I was super blessed when I saw the very same lady two weeks later in another part of town. Yay! Another opportunity to pour out some love. She remembered me and smiled as I approached her. At that point she was due any day. I told her she was looking so beautiful and strong and encouraged her again about labour and birth. Again, she expressed such gratitude and walked away with a big, beautiful smile.

I now make it a point that whenever I see something beautiful in a pregnant woman, I tell her. You never know, it could impact her just as much as I was by the encouragement I received when I was carrying my beautiful Caramel!

Note: All images used in this post were captured by Michelle of MG Photography in East London.

Dear Olivia (6 months old)

Oh my goodness, it has been half a year already!  In some ways it feels like it was only yesterday when I was carrying you in my womb, yet in many ways it feels like you’ve been part of my life forever.

I love being your mommy, as everyday you teach me something new about this beautiful life.  You, my darling, love to be rocked to sleep, in fact you have to be rocked to sleep for almost every nap and sleep time! This requires a lot of patience, especially at night after a busy workday. I’ve always thought of myself as a very patient person, but being a mommy is teaching me new levels of patience. Of course that’s not a bad thing at all…learning to be more patient.

Your pure innocence inspires and challenges me to look within and rid myself of all preconceived ideas and judgments I have about people.  You seem to attract all kinds of people, from gentle, loving grannies to dodgy-looking car guards. And when in the mood, you innocently and inevitably go to whoever and allow them to love you. You are not scared of the poor or downtrodden-looking, for your innocence allows you to perceive them like you would anyone else.  It is beautiful, my darling, and I promise to try my best to treasure and protect it.

The trust that I see when I look into your eyes amazes me. When you are hungry you know where to look and there is no doubt in your mind that mommy, daddy or nanny will provide. When you need to be comforted, held or cuddled you just open up your arms with the confidence that you will be picked up and your need met. You are indeed teaching me more about trusting in my Daddy God!

You have grown so much. I can’t believe that you were ever a floppy little bundle whose neck had to be supported at all times. You can now sit up perfectly all by yourself! You look so cute and serious when sitting up and carefully studying your surroundings - sometimes you look like you could actually say something. And by the way, what exactly is it you stare and smile at for so long on the ceiling – could it be angels? Oh how I wish I knew what goes through your head at such times!

You have two little teeth. You were so good when they came out, with no troubles, extra fussiness or sickness at all.  I must say though, I’m not enjoying your sudden bites when nursing you.  Teeth are for biting and chewing food my dear, not mommy!

And you love your food so much; I love watching you eat with such delight and enthusiasm. Right now your favourite foods are oatmeal, butternut soup, baby marrow, papaya, prunes and peaches, peaches and more peaches! What a mess to clean up after mealtime, but that’s all right, food is all about fun and learning for now, plus daddy always sorts the mess out!

I love you my darling. You make my life so rich and beautiful.