It was a trip I was not willing to forego: a short vacation to Paris in order to reconnect face to face with my friend Kym, her partner Jerome and their baby boy Natan, whom I had not yet met (other than on Skype), and who had just turned 6 months of age. Nope; nothing was going to restrict my visit, not even being 34 weeks pregnant. I was determined to go, and with the all important nod of approval from Erroll (albeit delivered with a stern look of mild disapproval and a shrug of the shoulders – I am one obstinate wife), even our doctor yielded and handed over that vital letter which gave me medical clearance to fly.
Kym, Natan – here I come!
Two and a half years had past since Kym and I strolled, arm in arm, the cobbled boulevards of Paris. Carefree, we sipped wine and dined on the Rive Gauche, shopped for winter boots and sexy lingerie, and were struck dumb at the architectural wonder that is the Notre Dame Cathedral. Back then, neither of us were with child; both were in loving relationships however talk of creating our own families was but a nascent idea; something to be contemplated later. Much later.
2013 became the year that babies were being germinated and born. Our babies! Kym and I lived these exciting months with nervousness and anticipation via frequent Skype sessions. By October Baby Natan had turned 6 months of age, and I was at that stage of pregnancy that air travel would soon be deemed hazardous. The time to escape Dubai was now. In 6 hours I would arrive, heavily pregnant but brimful of energy, into my hostess’ arms.
Natan stole my heart: what a cherub! A rosy faced child that would not look misplaced in the paintings of Renaissance artists. That type of angel depicted as a beautiful young child with small wings and a round face, smiling and infused with the goodness and light of the Lord; that is Natan.
It realization occurred to me with a thud that in but 5 weeks I too would have my own wee version of a cherub to nurture and adore…