Anticipation and the sound of hadedas

There is something wonderful about the sound of hadedas on a grey and rainy Saturday afternoon. It’s just a beautiful sound, an African one, it makes my heart contract. I’m all emotional. It may be the rain, it may be the impending aunty-hood, who knows.

And the aunty-hood is seriously impending. This Friday, the 17th of July, 2009, at 9:30am, if all goes according to plan, my sister will produce two tiny beings who have been growing and squirming in her tummy for the past nine months. It hardly seems possible to have so much love gurgling and swirling in me for two little creatures who I haven’t even met yet, except for their little kicks on my cheek from in the womb, but it’s there already, an overwhelming love.

We will be leaving the City Beneath the Mountain on Wednesday and driving across the country (I love road trips) and to The Big Smoke to welcome them. I’ve organised a birthday cake, we have champagne, it’s all ready. My parents are beside themselves with excitement, as am I (or did you work that out already…) These are some precious babies, much anticipated.

At this point I’m holding myself back and have been speaking to my sister, or N (my sister’s partner, my sister-in-law, and other mother of the twins) about four times a day. She’s taken to answering her phone: “They’re still in.” We end with me saying: “Keep them in.” I’d hate to miss it!

Excuse me now, I need to call her. Oh, and pack. My stomach just did a triple back flip with excitement, again.