Babies, birds and the bees

Children seemed to be on Gillian's mind this trip up to Malaysia.

We had stopped for dinner at KFC at the Ayer Keroh rest stop. Gillian came up to me and pointed at a family two tables away, saying: 9 children. Mummy, they have more children than us!

I looked over. It was a Malay family and yes, they had 9 children. The youngest was about 2years old and the oldest, maybe 16 or 17? Gillian said, I thought we already have many children, but they have even more than us! She seemed very impressed.

Later in Frasers Hill, she told KH and I: I think its okay to have more children if you want.

Really? I teased her. I thought you always freaked out at the thought of taking care of one more baby? You said you don't want to run after any more babies remember? Sure you can handle one more more?

Can! she waved airily.

But geez the thought of one more baby makes me sag with exhaustion. Tempting, but tiring! The thought of doing it all over - pregnancy, labour and birth were the fun bits, but the slog is to raise the child well up to adulthood - is just too large and daunting. Its not so much the financial cost but the emotional one. With every child I go through emotional somersaults - when they tantrum (like Trinity is doing these days! Oh the frustration of not being able to decipher her cries, not being able to calm or help her!) , the worry if or when they develop slower or develop different (ADHD, Aspergers, and Trin's lack of speech) , the stress of managing their work in school and then now as I am finding out, the minefield of puberty. It sounds like parenthood is no fun and a real slog. Well it is a real slog but it is not that it is no fun. Can be fun. Lots of fun. I enjoy being around them. But there are only so many hats that a woman can wear at one time without looking like a complete idiot. And motherhood is a very very big hat.

Later in the trip, I had some sad news from a friend who had lost her baby at 12weeks gestation. Gillian, being of the age where her ears are extra sharp, perked up at my phone conversation. She came up to me later and asked: What's wrong with Auntie Em?

I told her what happened and said that Auntie Em was understandably feeling very sad and was upset about it happening. Gillian asked: What about you mum? How do you feel? Are you also sad?

I said, well yes. Its never a nice thing to happen. I'm sad for Auntie Em but at the same time, I believe that this is God's will. He must have a reason for this to happen. We just don't understand why.

Then I don't know what made me open up to her, but I told her what I find very hard to talk about. I said, well this happened to mummy before too. Before you were born. I had a miscarriage too.

Her eyes widened and she said: Why didn't you tell us before? You mean you had more children - that means there are more of us! Why don't you and daddy tell us this?

Well, this is not something pleasant to talk about, I said. I was quite sad. Daddy finds it hard to talk about this sort of thing too (being a typical man, I added silently). But yes, it happened twice before. Before you were born.

Were you married to each other then? she asked. Oh this is very touchy. I found myself floundering. Yikes. How to answer this? Okay, the truth - Yes, we were married. That was the short answer and the truth. The longer answer was something she didn't need to know at that point.

Gillian nodded and said, well some people get pregnant before getting married and then they have abortions. I see it on tv all the time, she added blithely. See why I utterly and totally dislike Channel 8 dramas???

I said yes that happens, but that is a very very wrong thing to do. Its not the baby's fault that he is made and killing him is wrong. So, I continued, looking closely at her, you should never be with a guy until you're married. If you do end up pregnant, you know usually the guy does not take care of you and you'd have to take care of yourself and your baby and its a big responsibility that will not just go away - you have to take care of the baby until it grows up.

Now when I look back I wonder - why on earth do I always botch up stuff like this? Fumble, fumble and fumble. First, make a judgmental comment. Then make sweeping statements and finally, use fear - all the wrong things to do.

I've thought about this for the longest time, talked to friends etc. I know what I'd do if, God forbid, this ever happens. Yes I'd be angry as hell and I'd take a heck of a long time to get over it, but I would never turn my kids away, throw them out of the house like some outraged Asian parent 100 years ago. I know what I'd do: take her in, care for the baby as if its my own. But should I tell her this? What if she gets the idea that okay, since mum is so open about it, all things are carte blanche??? So when push comes to shove - I resort to type - use fear and finger wagging. Out of the window flew every bit of sensible balanced advice I'd read about how to approach moments like this - 'teachable moments' they call it. Yes I am smirking and my eyes are rolling as I type that. I wish 'teachable moments' would come labelled with big shiny neon lights that hit me on the head.

First, I should have just been factual, not judgemental. And there is the issue of what I said - DON'T be with a guy until you're married blah blah blah. Yes, I believe this, being a Catholic, I know this is the party line. But I also do know that the times we live in are so different. Saying NO all the time might not cut it anymore. Would it be better then to give all the information on birth control? I've read of mothers who bring their daughters to clinics for birth control pills. It sounds like a practical approach. But I honestly cannot see myself doing this - for now at least. I think this is way too liberal. On the other hand, being dogmatic about the 'no sex bit' might just alienate. Such a fine, teensy thin line to walk.

Maybe its me. Maybe I didn't handle it right this time. Maybe the wide aisles of The Gardens in Mid-Valley is not exactly the best place to have this sort of talk. But then maybe this sort of talk should be handled in this way - casual, not intense, while walking in a mall. I don't know. Feeling my way around.

After that, Gillian was thrilled - not with the "Don't do IT" bit, (don't know how much of that sank in) but with the idea that we're actually a larger family than we already are. There are two unknown siblings that came before. She ran forward to her dad and her typical exuberant way, said excitedly: Daddy! Did you know we are actually already a larger family - 7 children! Why didn't you tell us earlier??

Then she whispered to Isaac loudly: Zaac, mummy told me that she actually had two more babies before I was born....

With her going to KC (maybe) next year, and the infamous Bridge of Love just linking Marine Parade Road, I don't know how much longer she will still have the giggly wide-eyed attitude about sex and crucially, about getting information from me, her mother, about sex. And while I can handle the biological aspect no problem, I find myself stumbling for words when we're talking about the emotional aspects. How honest should I be? How much does she need to know? How weightily will she regard the information?

And while I am busy agonising over Gillian, quietly almost slipping beneath the radar, I suddenly realise I have Isaac on the cusp of puberty too. He had his first 'wet' dream in Fraser's Hill. And last night, I found out he'd finished reading Gaiman's book "Stardust" - with some uh, rather descriptive passages in there. No wonder he asked us mildly in the car on the NS Highway: all the stuff they do in the movies, the kissing and all... is all that real?

KH and I launched into a "don't believe all you see in the movies" spiel but I wonder now if we actually read the moment right. I don't think he was actually questioning the reality of it - a movie is a movie and he knows that. But rather, now with more factors in the equation, I think that question might have held a deeper meaning than we suspected.

I'm not ready for Isaac. I'm still floundering with Gillian. And Mr KH is no help. Time to pick up a copy of Raising Boys yet again.

Rounding yet another curve in life again.