I am the Mommy of nine children – 6 are my own, one is my step-son whom I have raised since the age of 2. One was an abortion and one was a miscarriage.
I could never take the Pill as I reactivated to the hormones. SO most of the time I was damn lucky. The rest of the time I used the Rhythm Method.
I was very shy sexually, so did not share my body with lots of men – unless I was hopelessly drunk. I believe that souls come to you for a reason, that there is no planned or unplanned pregnancy. When the soul is ready, the child will arrive.
I am still trying to work out if the soul enters when the child is born and absorbs oxygen through their lungs, or if the soul enters on fertilization, or perhaps when the heart first starts beating.
My first child Daisy, was a gift from The Heavens. My psychic abilities first came about when I was living in Spain in the mid-1980’s. I was modelling at the time, and had a spiritual revelation. I was to come back to South Africa, work in television, call myself Eve. I was then going to meet a guy who would cut through the bullshit, ask to be my partner and we would have a child.
Meeting someone was next to impossible as I never went out. I filmed my TV show Take a Break every second Sunday, and in between I either stayed at my Mom’s in Fourways or at my brothers house in Melville.
But, there was one night I did go out – for my brother’s birthday. I went to a club called Idols. It became the most bizarre night, as someone was handing out free Ecstasy pills – the first time in the country.
As an ‘experimental’, I took one and sat back, waiting for the effects to happen. It wasn’t long when this guy comes over to me across the nightclub, sits down and suggests that we stop messing around and just hook up as girlfriend and boyfriend. Within 48 hours we were in bed together in my little caravan in Fourways. Within six weeks I missed my period. And that baby became Daisy, who is now 26 and studying Art at Kingston University in the UK. I would say that Daisy was a planned pregnancy.
Daisy’s father and I married and then split up after six months. We had done our official duty and made Daisy not a bastard. When she was six months old, I went to Cape Town and struggled it out on my own. I needed space to get over the relationship ending.
By the July of 1990, I was back in Johannesburg and in the September I was employed to work at The Market Theatre as a Membership Liaison Officer. At the time, Saturday mornings were the place to be seen, at The Market parking lot where a buzzing Fleamarket would be taking place. I was so blessed to have found work in such a funky environment. And it was the start of a new life.
Within a week, I met a guy who told me his friend was bonking my husband – we still hadn’t got divorced. I was so hurt and humiliated; I let this guy take me out. I got plastered on red wine and we ended up in bed together. Three weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. Daisy was only one years old.
I was living in a caravan and earning minimum wage. I decided to keep the baby, then changed my mind. Abortion was illegal in 1990 so I went to the Government Hospital, underwent psychological tests, ensured that I was classified as insane and was approved to have a legal abortion. The psychologist was a friend of the guy who made me pregnant.
I went to the hospital with my Mom to sign the papers for the abortion, but couldn’t do it and left in floods of tears. I went to Checkers later that afternoon, and the John Denver song Annie was playing.
Come, let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again
I walked through that shop with tears running down my cheek. I sang to my baby, and I knew that she had to go.
I drove back to the hospital, signed the papers and was wheeled into theatre the following morning. The gynaecologist stroked my forehead and told me that the next time I was pregnant it would be under happier circumstances. I sent the babies soul to someone who couldn’t have a baby, and I often expect that soul to walk up to me today and recognise me.
In April of 1991, I met up with Father No 2. An old boyfriend from my youth. We fell into each other’s arms. He lived in Durban. He flew up to see me two weeks after our initial reunion, and I had a pain on the side of my tummy. This was my ovulation pain. He was lying on top of me as I said to him that if we did this, he knew what the consequences are. He said that he did.
And so, Bobby was made. He was called Bobby because Daisy said that I had a bobby I my tummy (baby). Plus the hit TV series TWIN PEAKS was at its prime and the lead sexy character was called Bobby. Plus the paternal Grandfathers name was Robert.
The second name we wanted to be Bart, after Bart Simpson. But we were told that when he was older no one would know who Bart Simpson was, so we called him Bartholomew, which was a family name. It was also one of the disciples in the Bible. Bart Simpson is still very popular.
Bobby was five months old and it was Fathers Day. His dad and I had great sex ( I believe babies are created when the sex is intense ), and three weeks later I was in the toilet at The Wheel Shopping Center in Durban with Bobby and Daisy doing a pregnancy test. And so came James.
Their father was a partner and DJ in a nightclub called The Rift. There was a promotion of Nirvana’s Nevermind album. I was seven months pregnant with James. The baby kicked and squirmed so much that I had to leave the nightclub. I told the Father that the baby would either love or hate music.
James left home when he was 14 to follow a career in music. He has played in bands and is presently embarking on a new venture which should see his success in the SA music industry. He was a planned unplanned baby.
James was three. I had an argument with my mother in the early hours of the morning on her bi-annual visit to our home. She lived in Johannesburg. I had passionate sex after she left, and exclaimed that I could feel an Angel standing in the room. Emily was conceived.
Their Father and I split up at the end of 2000. It was nasty. It still hurts. He took away my children for six years. I could hardly breathe.
But there are reasons for everything.
When the babies left, I met my present husband of 15 years. He was 11 years my junior. It was a soul mate connection. He had a two year old son, also called James.
We tried for a year to have a child. In October of 2002 I found out I was pregnant. We were elated.
At the three month mark, I started bleeding. We called the baby Diana. I lost her and felt that it was karma for the abortion I had had years earlier. The truth was, I had painted my shop with paint that had fumes toxic to a pregnant woman. We were devastated.
After visiting a celebration of Sai Baba’s birthday – 23 November 2003- my husband and I had passionate sex. And Charlotte was conceived. I was a Mommy again!
July of 2005, my husband and I had make-up sex after a huge row, and Peter was conceived. My husband was horrified. I was elated. Charlotte needed a friend.
Peter was born in April 2006. In August 2006, my other four children refused to return to their fathers care. Overnight, in a two bedroomed cottage on my parent’s property, we had seven children in our care. It was chaotic to say the least.
In 2007, we moved from Umkomaas to Scottburgh and everyone had their own bedroom. I started fulltime work and everything fell to pieces. Arguments ensued between my growing boys and my husband. Bobby was thumped by him for calling me a cunt. Bobby was 15. He lost his temper and threw a brick through our car windscreen.
James started smoking weed and got arrested by the Scottburgh SAPS.
The boys left school and left home – there were too many Jocks in Scottburgh.
Emily grew up too quickly – in a sexual relationship at twelve, sneaking off to party venues when she said she was visiting friends. One of her friends committed suicide, her paternal Grandmother died, her maternal Grandfather died. She failed at school, had an argument with my husband and moved back to her fathers.
So here I now sit – with Daisy (26) in the UK, Bobby (23) working as a camp counsellor at a Wilderness Camp in the USA, James (22) in Cape Town working on some bands, Emily (18) in Durban with her Dad.
At home there is Charlotte (11) and Peter (9) and James (16). We have a nice little cosy set-up and my husband and I have been through our ups and downs but have focused on keeping the family unit together.
We live on an isolated farm on the South Coast of Kwa-Zulu Natal. Close to Durban to travel for work. But far enough not to have visitors. We spent the past two years living without television or radio and we had no car. We lived off the land.
But we have gone past that now and are back in the land of the living with DSTV and a Bakkie. Our children are scattered – some planned, some not planned. But each one of them is a blessing to us. I have a tattoo on my upper arm, with the Roman Numeral VII – the number 7. This represents my children. I do not count the abortion or the miscarriage as I believe these souls have gone elsewhere.
Hitting menopause, I now look forward to having a break from babyhood for a few years, and then welcoming Grandchildren.
I adore and love my 7 children to bits and wouldn’t have changed my life journey for the world.
Sarah-Jane Brown is a PRO Consultant and a successful Psychic living on the South Coast of Kwa-Zulu Natal. She does Tarot Readings and Astrology charts via email all over the world. southafricanfarm@gmail.com.
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