So, I guess to continue sort of from the first installment...there I was in Thailand, with a cat and a dog, quite unexpectedly. From there, we travelled to Venezuela where we spent three years. We both loved it and hated it. From the prettiest beaches with sand made of pixie dust and water as blue as Bradley Cooper’s eyes, to the tear gas and rubber bullets on my street that once made us barricade ourselves into my hallway; we have been through a lot together, my furry family and I. Venezuela imprinted on my heart and it’s part of who I am. Funny how somewhere you lived for only 3 of 35 years has such a huge impact, but it did and still does. All I can say is that this wonderful, beautiful, hypnotic country and its people touched my heart and soul and will remain there always. I could tell you of the horrors that marked my own life and the lives of others I loved, but it would betray the wonder and beauty of this magnificent country. I love Venezuela and always will.

It was in Caracas where I began working with orphanages, one in particular whom I still fundraise for and try to support. For anyone trying to adopt in Venezuela, you can’t unless you’re Venezuelan. We did briefly think about getting married and adopting, didn’t we, Junior?? God, I miss you. My school set up a link with RISE (Rincon Infantil San Edmundo) where we went to play and teach English but pretty soon the protests started and it was deemed too dangerous for us gringos to cross the city. Instead, we got the children on a bus to our school to play, eat and learn English once every 2 to 3 weeks. It sounds nuts that this was the safer option but we just couldn’t go into the barrios safely and the things we were bringing to donate were being stolen. Reflecting on this as I write is throwing off my sense of reality, though I know that this was very real. I think at this time, my mind was cementing what I knew to be true already: I am going to be a Mum and this is how I will be doing that. I knew it couldn’t happen in Venezuela but I knew it would be my path somewhere. With a very, very heavy heart, I started my search. As I write, this child I clung to, Carlos, appears in my mind and I wonder what became of him.

My Carlos

To whom we never should have said goodbye x

Ella y ella y yo

Las tÍas!

I still support RISE, 7 years on, and have recruited my amazing family and their fundraising power to try and alleviate the horrific circumstances these children are battling. I've never wondered why my default is to want to help people because it's in my blood. Though one shouldn't brag, my family pretty much personify what a family should be. They are loving, selfless, warm, giving, generous and benevolent. I want to arrange a charity concert and there they are, arranging it, supporting me, helping others. Despite my aversion to the question ‘why’, I guess this is part of my reason. My family raised me to be this way and I loved those children in RISE. I still do. Some of them had mums and some of them didn’t; it didn’t matter. I knew, if I could have adopted one of my RISE kids, I’d have loved them inside out and back to front and upside down. My heart is breaking for Venezuela and particularly for these children. Working with orphans is not the reason I knew I wanted to be a mum, but it’s certainly cemented my way of knowing that is how I’ll be a mum. This is my path. I have never been surer of anything and I can’t wait till my baby comes home to me.