The number 8 has proven to be a curse for me. When the year had the number 8 in it, I would go on to have a horrible time. 2008 was tough and 2018 was even tougher. But then 2023 came along and destroyed that theory. Turns out, if you cut the 8 in half and get the 3, it’ll prove to be the most challenging of all. 2022 didn’t really end well. 2023 didn’t really start well either. Other than the residue of 2022 and trying to resurrect any joy by getting involved in some adventures and excursions, shit just got out of hand way too early in the year, and seem to never come to an end.

‘Defeated’ would ultimately be the most overused word to answer someone’s, “how are you?” Whether it would be another blow to my health, the final straw in a relationship, or grieving significant losses, if it wasn’t for the birth of my daughter, I’d say that this year was a complete failure.

In a matter of weeks, and only weeks before Christmas of 2022, we suffered a death in our family, we received some disheartening updates about one family members health, and 11 weeks into my pregnancy I suffered a prolapse which changed my entire quality of life and absolutely ruined my second pregnancy experience. I know a prolapse just can’t be in the same sentence as death, loss and grief, and isn’t exactly as bad as what my beloved family member who was going through a much harder one before her passing, but I really want to talk about my prolapse because it’s a subject not enough women talk about, nor know enough about because yeah, it is embarrassing. I feel because we don’t talk about it that I was left in the clouds with little to no information about it. But I’ll get back to my prolapse after I mention the other shitty thing I want to just get over and done with.

I was so happy to go an entire year without having to mention my demon. Early on in Jan, he reared his ugly head again. The good news, it was for the very last time. Once and for all, I have finally been able to cut ties with my gaslighting, manipulative, compulsive lying, physically and mentally abusive, psychopathic, chemically imbalanced, narcissistic, junkie of a demon. It still doesn’t feel like the right time to get into the details about this part of my life. This is purely for the safety of me and the people around me. However, this is the beginning of the end and I know that this story is probably a books worth of a journey. I want to say so much to you, my readers, but I still have to say nothing for now. But the time will come where I can reveal why I am the way I am. All because of 34 years of bullying and psychological and sometimes physical torment. For now, i want everyone to know, that I am so happy I’ve finally reached a point I can say no to this person. I will not allow myself to go through that vicious cycle this demon makes us go through. To bully, disrespect and lie, but then just pretend it never happened. I finally have the courage. And while everyone else can continue to tolerate this demon for the sake of temporary peace, I choose temporary chaos for permanent peace. There’s still a lot to do before it becomes the norm; a few tests we need to take, so to speak, and maybe you know from experience that it’s not easy to completely remove a toxin out of your life, but it will happen and eventually it’ll all be worth it.

Back to more important things. So my prolapse. I spoke a lot about it on my Instagram as a means of raising awareness. And it was great to see that I wasn’t the only one with that idea. So many pages and networks to connect with that make pelvic floor health the centre of their universe and something worth talking about. So long story short, I was diagnosed with a stage 4 uterine prolapse. This means my entire cervix was outside my body. Through this journey, I discovered the incompetence of our medical industry. I was ignored, I was incorrectly diagnosed at one point, I was told nothing can be done. Mind you, I’m pregnant, with an entire organ hanging out of my body. Until I finally found out who I needed to see, advocated for my health and got diagnosed and treated correctly and immediately. At its worst, i couldn’t walk for long, I couldn’t move at all, choosing underwear became a challenge. It was just horrible. Pelvic floor awareness on my part, is now a life long requirement. Heavy lifting is out of the question and I have to be very particular with how I move my body. For now, after the birth of my daughter which was incredible, lots of physio, and support of a pessary when needed, I am now a stage 2. But like I said, it’s all about maintenance now and that’s for life. So hear this. If something doesn’t feel right, advocate, every time, for yourself. Demand treatment. I’ve never been the type to go to the doctors straight away when something was wrong. I’d wait it out to fix itself. I won’t be doing that anymore. Because also during my pregnancy, I was suffering heart palpitations. Immediately mentioning it to the next health worker I saw, I would later discover that I was born with Wolff Parkinson White syndrome. In November, I had an ablation which eradicated the extra circuit which was providing near deadly pulses to the lower chambers of my heart. I also had to have a hysteroscopy D&C because I had retained product from the birth. Those are the three main things that happened medically.

Loosing my cousin to cancer in February was probably one of the most difficult things I had ever gone through. Still to this day I am shocked that she’s gone. I sat next to one of my cousins at the church ceremony and she said it perfectly. “Where the fuck are we?” It’s still so unbelievable that we lost someone so close to us. So young, leaving young children behind. And I know that feeling of being the child left behind. I just never thought I’d be attending one of my cousins funerals right now.

In June, we did receive a 3.6kilo blessing. After five grandsons, my mother got her first granddaughter, and she even took her name. The birth itself, I just wish I did it like that the first time. I probably wouldn’t have so many issues now. It was all natural and unmedicated. Being able to feel my body, be in complete control, doing it all on my feet, I just can’t recommend it enough.

My baby girl has completed my family. And honestly, she’s the only good thing to have happened this year. But even her journey came with some harsh blows. There was her failed hearing test which scared me heaps considering I play music and like to sing to my children. Thankfully that corrected itself. There was suspicions of hip dysplasia. Again, that corrected itself. And then very early in her little life she suffered a case of RSV and now has an awful lingering cough which I’m convinced will lead her to adopt my asthma. Though most of this came out okay, it was just added salt to an already painful wound. Regardless, with so much hurt, uncertainty, anxiousness and trauma lurking around, she was able to level it out with her existence, together with her brother. My son has a lot of big feelings, but I’m so grateful he’s mine. He reminds me to come back down to earth all the time. He went through a lot of change, all at once. Toilet training, moving into his big boy bed and his own room, becoming a big brother and learning what life at “school” will be like. But he’s come up on top.

By October I was holding my babies so much tighter. I am on Instagram and Google searching every single day about the genocide of the Palestinians. I’m hurting so much for them. Considering my mental health right now, it hasn’t made things better. But for me, they need us to be their voice. To share their stories. To make sure they know we haven’t forgotten them. I have learnt and open my eyes to something I am ashamed I didn’t know sooner in regard to this conflict. I guess, this is a conversation for another day, but I can only pray and hope that the new year brings them peace. But I also hope this opens up conversations about other illegal occupations. I know I say that as I live on stolen land.

It was one of those one-thing-after-the-other kind of years. Hence, the feelings of defeat. My heart says that 2024 will be better. But my head says, no it won’t. In fact, it could get worse. I’m trying my hardest not to put that out into the universe, but with so much overwhelming hardship this year, I can only hope that it won’t spill into a year that holds my favourite number. 4. I want my boring life back. No more excitement of any kind. Just content, monotone, boring life.

I’d like to leave with a prayer.

Dear God. I know I ask for a lot. I know you listen and I know you try to give me opportunities to receive the things I ask for, but man, am I desperate for peace. Not just within me and for the people close to me, but for the world. Please dear God, may 2024 be the year where peace is the number one theme. Amen.