It’s been a while since I’ve visited this blog, much has happened in between times.

In September of last year, I went to an Ayahuasca ceremony with people from the Yawanawá tribe. That was an incredible event, spiritually healing and restorative, held by people who made all of us attending feel safe and cared for. I am very glad I went to it and would very much like to go again. I may write about the experience at a later date.

In October I left Neu with our son (they did a good job of looking after each other) and went back to England for six weeks to visit family and friends. It was the first time I’d been able to visit in five long years and I realised as I was getting ready to leave here, that this was also the first time in forty years that I wouldn’t have to consider the needs of a partner or children for an extended period of time. I’d not been on my own since I was sixteen years old and it was quite a feeling to be footloose and fancy-free!

It was great to be back in the UK in Autumn, the weather was kind, at least at first, so I didn’t get a thermal shock and the trees were putting on a fantastic display of colour, something I really miss here.

There is never enough time to see everyone and as I have a son living in London, with another in Wales, as well as one of my best friends in Cornwall, I was travelling about even more than usual. Still, it was great and I loved every minute of it.

I came back to Brazil at the end of November and then borrowed some more money to take my son down to São Paulo to surprise my daughter for Christmas. We spent two weeks with her and her partner and it was wonderful.

Unfortunately, Neu’s fistula in his arm through which he does dialysis, failed just after Christmas. It wasn’t unexpected, the doctor had warned Neu sometime before that it was starting to fail but it was still disappointing when it happened. Neu had a catheter inserted in his neck again and waited to be seen by the surgeon for another fistula.

Nothing is ever simple in regards to Neu’s treatment and this time was no different. Twice he was called to the clinic, only to wait all day before being sent home without having surgery. Finally, on the third occasion, he was attended to.

Neu’s veins are not in great shape, making the process of fistula creation more difficult, so more invasive surgery was needed. Neu is now sporting Frankenstein monster style stitches down the inside of his arm, having been cut to the bone from armpit to elbow. It’s not a pretty sight and it’s very painful but the surgeon is hopeful that this fistula will prove to be more long-lasting than the prosthetic one Neu previously had. Fingers crossed.

Two days ago, I heard that my pregnant sister-in-law who lives next door was waiting for a car to take her to the hospital. I was a little surprised as she was booked in for a caesarian next week but went to wish her luck. I found my sister-in-law obviously in the full throes of labour, with her husband and another neighbour, trying to walk her out of the bedroom, to go down to the road where the car would hopefully be waiting. I couldn’t begin to imagine how we would achieve that walk.

As I stood facing her, my sister-in-law grabbed my arms as the pain of another contraction surged through her. Arching her back, her two companions had no choice but to let her down onto the bed, where I immediately saw that we were not going anywhere. This baby was on his way, like right now, his head already fully born!

There was a time in my life when I seriously thought about training to be a Midwife. I had three of my four children as planned home births, with friends as well as a Midwife in attendance and I have always hoped to witness a home birth (other than those of my own children of course), though I wouldn’t have planned it quite like this. Thankfully, I’m not one to panic as the baby was coming right now, whatever I or anybody else thought about it.

With the next contraction, the baby was born into my waiting hands, thankfully the cord was not around his neck. As I wiped his face he took his first breath and seconds later he let out a hearty cry. He was well covered in vernix, the thick grease-like substance that covers newborns, making them very slippery creatures to handle. I asked for a towel to wrap him in and checked that his skin colour was pinking up nicely. Having dried him off he was laid on his mother’s tum for warmth, where he cried heartily. All seemed well and I felt truly blessed.

The SAMU service (which stands for Mobile Urgent Medical Attendance) had been called and arrived quickly, which was a relief. The paramedics dealt with cutting the umbilical cord and then mother and baby were taken to be checked over at the hospital. Thankfully they were both pronounced fine and were sent home the following day.

Yesterday was the funeral of an old friend in London, he was Godfather to my three eldest children, with a fourteen-year old son of his own. His sudden death was terribly sad news and I was sorry to not be able to attend his funeral. At the appointed hour I said a prayer for him and was more than a little struck by how strange it was to be helping bring a new life into the world one day, whilst saying goodbye and safe journey to another the next. The ebb and flow of life indeed.