While we were in South Africa, we spent 3 days in my home town to meet up with a few friends and family. On the second last morning, mom and I were set to go to her hair stylist for some mother daughter time. Little did I know she had something up her well-intentioned sleeve. Before we set out she called me into her room to tell me that she’d organized for someone to come and pray over N and me and my uterus. Now a few months ago I would have rolled my eyes and put up a sizable fight but I think either I’ve grown up a bit or I’m at my wits and will try anything at this point to help with us. My husband, on the other hand, would be another story. He’s made a firm stance on Christianity and he’s lack of belief therein so I knew I would have to spend my time at the salon thinking up creative ways to break it to him.
It turned out that the stylist was the one who turned my mother onto this ‘shaman’ and she told me that she had debilitating endometriosis and the lady worked miracles. She mentioned a bitter drink that she had to drink but I ignored that bit.
After our hair was done my mother got hold of the miracle worker and we were to pick her up in the shady part of town at a nondescript location. We waited there for a short while and my mother got out of the car to exchange pleasantries with another old lady who happened to pass the car and who turned out to be my father’s retired secretary from years ago. At this time I called N and tried my mother’s approach. I just told him in no uncertain terms that we’d be home in 15 and we’re going to have someone pray over us. I winced a little at the 5 second silence and added that it was my mother’s idea and it would be over quickly. Surprisingly he just chuckled and agreed. I wondered if he, like me, had grown up or was at his wits end. Either way, I loved him a little more at that moment.
Aunty Maggie (where I come from, anyone who’s your parents’ age is called Aunty or Uncle) looked how I expected her to look. Short and portly with an orange dress and blue scarf wrapped around her head and a kind face. She spoke Afrikaans mostly and on the way home she told us about her 45 year history with helping couples conceive as a midwife and a Christian.
When we got home N and I were ushered into my old bedroom where Auntry Maggie sat us on my bed and went through her resume once again and explained that she was just a regular old lady who used to be a midwife and who enjoys helping couples whenever she can. She then, while N looked on, made me lay on my back and she lifted up my top and massaged my belly around my uterus area and up under my ribs. It was a pretty good massage, I won’t lie. Afterwards she said that my uterus and tubes felt great (the HSG would agree) and she said that she felt 2 eggs under my ribs. What? We all know that’s not how that works but I guess that’s what her super powers told her. And then she laid her hands on my tummy and started praying quickly and out loud and in Afrikaans so I know N wasn’t catching any of it and I hoped that she would switch over a bit so he could understand a little. She then reached over to him and put a hand on his shoulder and prayed for him too. It lasted a few minutes and if I’m honest I was a bit emotional afterwards but I’ve always been emotional.
Before she left she said that she see 2 children in our future. Only 2 but that it would happen, God showed her. She mentioned that she had to go make something for us to drink. She said it was just herbs that she prayed over and boiled in water. She told us how much everything would cost (everything came to the equivalent of $10) and then she wished us well and my mother took her home.
We were to pick up the medicine the following day which was two 2litre bottles of brown water with leaves and I think ginger in it. N had to take 1/2 a cup at night and I was to drink 1/2 a cup morning and night. The stuff smelled awful and tasted even worse. It was really not good at all. Plus, I don’t think we would have gotten it through customs anyway. We only managed 2 nights of it before throwing in the towel. My mother said that she understood as long as the praying was done.
As I ponder what Aunty Maggie told us I wonder how all of this will play out if her predictions are correct. Right now we only have 1 embryo. If what she says is true, does that mean this one will work and we’ll have to do all of this again for a 2nd? Will this not work and in our next round we’ll get 2 that we can take home? Or will this work and split into 2? There are endless possibilities. Hell, she may even be way off the mark and we get none… or more than 2… or just one… As you can tell, I’ve spent a lot of time pondering. Maybe too much time.
The experience wasn’t a bad one. The ‘potion’ was. I’m happy with the outcome. I’m happy that my husband was open to it even though he didn’t understand what was said. She said Jesus in Afrikaans a lot which is pronounced Yee-sis and he jokingly asked if she was praying to Kanye.
This was initially an exercise in making my mother happy and in the end all 3 of us were pretty happy.
I hope she’s right about the 2 babies though.
tl;dr – my mom got an old Christian lady to massage my tummy and pray for us and make a ‘potion’ to help us with conceiving. she also said that God promised us 2 little ones.
2 thoughts on “Aunty Maggie”
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