Memoirs of a pregnant woman

 

MEMOIRS OF A PREGNANT WOMAN 
(as told by a friend)

Pregnancy is a beautiful thing. So beautiful a thing...depending on how ready you are to take care of a baby, married or not. I could vividly remember when I told my husband the good news; he hugged me, kissed me and we made beautiful love. Lucky for us, it was the Christmas holidays, so we had all the time on earth to sleep in all day. I woke up the next day to the aroma of pancake and toast, served on a tray with a rose petal, and right beside me was my husband smiling at me like the day we met on a flight back from Ghana.  The pancake was really crappy but the gesture left me with an amazing feeling. I did marry a lovely man.

The weeks that followed were the loveliest I have ever had. He took me to and fro work, cooked for me whenever he could (though I told him to stop so we could eat better food), washed, cooked and the best of all, he went to the market for me. It was my first baby so everything seemed kinda beautiful.

The first trimester came and went without any form of throwing up or excessive sleeping (as Nollywood would always make it seem). On the fourth month, paranoia took the best of me and I took home pregnancy tests every morning for a week just to confirm that I was pregnant. They all came out positive but that didn’t convince me. As the days passed without any change, my fear increased. No increase in size, no tummy protruding…all my fantasies of holding my back and dragging my feet with my swollen tummy came crashing. As the anxiety increased, my weight loss increased too. And to make matters worse, some of my friends kept asking incessantly if I was watching my weight. Hian! I had to talk to my husband; not because I loved him so much but because someone has to take part in the fear.

"Sweet, I think I lost my, our baby”, I said in tears. He screamed. 

"How?" "When?" "Where?" "Were you at the office when it happened?" "Did you see a doctor?" "Who took you to see a doctor?" He punctuated every question with "OH GOD!..."

“But wait, did you say you think?” he asked “You think?”

"Yes I think." In between my fears, I relayed my fears.

“Did you see blood?” he asked

“No. Must I see?” I replied

"Did you feel pain?"

"No."

“Did you see your period?” he asked

"No but I missed it sometimes, even though I wasn’t pregnant."

“Did you hit your tummy on anything?"

"No but I’ve been lying on my tummy."

"Did it evaporate?"

Hahaha! That got me laughing. We were both at a loss and the only solution we had was to go see a doctor who confirmed that there had not been any baby evaporation.

Then, all hell broke loose on a certain Thursday morning. I would love to say that I didn’t know what happened to start it all, but that would be a lie (not telling). I woke up with a jerk and knew I had to throw up. Before I could swing off the bed, I had already thrown up all over Nnanna’s face (my husband). There was no time for apologies 'cos more seemed to be on the way. I ran to the toilet, knocking over everything along the way in the process, bent over the toilet bowl and threw up my guts until I was breathless. Thank God the toilet and the kitchen have always been my pride in my home so I didn’t mind sitting on the floor. I waited for my husband to come running to my side but sadly, that was not the case. When it felt like my ass was about to catch a cold from sitting on the cold floor, I respectfully walked back to the room only to find him sound asleep and cuddled in my vomit. Adorable! However, the pain I was in outweighed the love I felt for him so I let him savor the moment for some minutes but when he started licking his lips, uggghhhhh….!

“Nnanna, wake up!” I patted him on the leg, a shy away from screaming in disgust. He jumped up when he felt something wet on his face and somehow, I didn't need to tell him that it was my vomit.

"Babes, what the f**k?" he muttered under his breath

All the need to apologize vanished into thin air when I heard him say the "F" word. The pain i felt couldn't quell my anger but I stopped myself from screaming at him by climbing into bed. He left the room to clean off or whatever. By the time he came back, I'd thrown up everywhere - the bed, the floor, the wardrobe, everywhere! Sharp pain kept knocking me off my feet every time I tried to stand up. Nnanna carried me to the rest room and held my hair as I threw up incessantly. Afterwards, he carried me to another room while he cleared ours that reeked of vomit.

The weeks that followed made me wish I didn't say a certain prayer. I missed work, got hospitalized...I bet Nnanna wished he could put me in a quarantine bag so I could do all my vomiting in it. He took care of me like a baby and I loved him more than ever. Indeed, I married a good man!

I finally got better, still pregnant...thankfully! Things got back to normal but with a very heavy body and stomach. I added like one kg or more every week. I am the only one to blame sha, as I kept eating like a mad person. At the office, nice people called me cow (you don't want to know what the not nice ones called me).
 
I had a crucial meeting one morning that would determine if my company would write a transaction worth thousands of dollars. As usual, I arranged my favorite skirt suit, favorite pair of shoes and bag, ear rings, everything...and I visioned how good I'd look in it. What met me in the morning was amazing. Haha! The skirt wouldn't zip up, the jacket was a no no! Gosh! Had the pregnancy taken over my common sense too? What made me think I could've worn it when I must've put on an extra of 17kg. I tried on every clean stuff in the wardrobe, nothing fit. Nnanna too had some important stuff to do so he called our cab man for me and left me to deal with my wardrobe madness.


In my frustration, I knocked on my neighbor's door and asked for something to wear. The weird look she gave me wasn't surprising, since we'd never spoken to each other, but then, Nigerians don't say "NO" to pregnant women. She had bad taste in clothes but I was desperate. The only thing that fit a bit was one iro and buba made with the most agonizing looking material ever. She must have worn it for a burial, I thought. I thanked her and ran to my room to use my mirror...I stood there and thought "THIS IS WRONG". Was it me or a carpenter that made the chair I was wearing? I called in to say I couldn't make the office only to hear that the meeting had been postponed. Thank God!


Throughout the day, I craved anything edible. I devoured everything in the fridge and still wanted more. It seemed like someone turned on the hunger switch and forgot to turn it off. I sat like a Dorothy in the sitting room and an awesome aroma of well cooked banga soup slowly got me on my feet. Like a dog in slow motion, I sniffed towards its direction, careful not to lose track of it. It led me to my kitchen window where I stopped and wished it was a door instead. I stood there like I was in a trance and took in the aroma but it wasn't enough. I hurriedly tied a wrapper over my nightwear and went food hunting. 

The compound has a block of eight flats and we stay on the last floor.  I stopped to sniff on each floor but the aroma went on. I followed it until I got outside the gate.

Then; "Madam, you wan buy something?" I heard.

I came back to life and found myself in front of the aboki shop right opposite the gate. When did I cross the road?

"Ehen...aboki, you get peppered cashew nuts?" I asked (I knew he wouldn't have any).

"No madam. I get cashew but pepper no dey am...but I get dry pepper..." he went on while I stylishly sniffed for the aroma that was driving me crazy. I'd lost it, or was it the stench of the gutter behind the aboki's shop that kept it away? I politely turned down the cashew and dry pepper suggestion and retraced my steps back to the compound where the aroma got stronger and better. Aha!

I put all shame aside and went knocking door to door. On each door, I put on my best smile and asked if they were cooking. At one of the doors, a little girl of about 5 years old answered.

"Hi darling! How are you?" I asked, but was too impatient for a reply. "Are you the one cooking?"

"Cooking what?" she asked.

"Banga soup."

"What is banga soup?" she asked.

I cursed under my breath but went on to explain to her after which she simply said, "I cannot cook."

Gosh! I walked away to the next floor. Annoying smart child! Woe betide you when I catch you riding your bike...mtchew!

The next door opened and I didn't bother asking if the aroma came from there. It's here! I couldn't hide my excitement as I announced, "I want to eat banga soup!"

"Eh?!"

"Please I want to eat banga soup" I repeated.

She looked at me understandably and invited me in. "You'd have to wait a bit though. The rice isn't done yet" she said.

I nodded scared that I might say something that would make her pursue me away. I counted every second as I waited. She tried starting up a conversation but I had my mind fixed on one thing only. I shifted positions in anticipation of what cometh only for her to come out with an apologetic face to say that the cooking gas just finished. Before I could stop myself, I screamed! "CHAI! HEI! Is there no way we can sieve the water from it?"

She agreed and I invited her to come over to my house to finish her cooking. I ate it hot and only realized that my throat hurt when I was done and breathless. An hour later, I threw up all the food. Great! Just great! When Nnanna came in bitching about how horrible his day went, I smiled. If only he knew how mine went.

On one of my many evening strolls, I found treasure - boiled corn! I bought 3. They were hot, just the way I wanted them. I hurriedly got home, showered and relaxed to eat my lovely corn. With the first bite, my tooth chipped off. Ah! The corn was as hard as concrete. Geez! Who sells this kinda thing to people? No! This is wrong! Who sells maize meant for cultivation to people as fresh corn. I would need to pound it a bit to soften it. I wrapped the crap and headed back to where I bought it from only to find the woman gone. Mtchew! In my protest, I looked around and discovered yet another treasure - roadside mama put!

Whew! I jumped the gutter in front of the woman and placed my order...rice, beans, fresh fish, chicken, roundabout...assorted. I sat to eat and pulled up my top so my tummy could breath. Flies won't let me eat! They know good food too. I saw that everyone there had a hand fan so I asked for mine. We all ate with one hand then fanned ourselves and pursued flies with the other. Talk about multitasking! When I was done, I stretched out on the seat to allow the food digest, only to be woken by a tap. Nnanna!

"What are you doing here?" we both asked at the same time.

"I came to eat" I replied.

"Eat? Here? Is there no food at home?" he asked.

I didn't bother replying cos I knew it wouldn't help.

"Could you please pay for the food?" I asked instead.

"How did you intend to pay for it before I drove by and saw you snoring with your mouth wide open?" he asked with a chuckle.

How cute! I left him for the car while he paid for the food.

"Nne, you just downed 4,500 bucks" he said as he joined me in the car.

"Four what?!" I sat up ready to jump down and ask for my money. Is it mama put or Sheraton Hotel?

Nna smiled and asked me not to worry.

"Baby, our small bump is really driving you crazy" he said with a smile. At home, he rubbed my feet until I fell asleep.

I got restless and kept turning in bed. I rolled here and there and then over Nna just to wake him up.

"Nne, what is it?"

"I want to eat egedengbu."

He slowly sat up and robbed his eyes, then smiled. "I dunno what that is but it sounds like something only grandmothers can cook" he said and tried lying down to sleep. I burst into tears and cried loudly. He got on the phone and called all my aunts who didn't mind answering by that time of the night 'cos they thought I'd gone into labor only to hear that all I wanted was egedengbu. The youngest of them all agreed to help and asked us to come over in the morning. Before daybreak, I was ready.

We got there around 9am to find all my aunts around. They made fun of me and chided my husband for pampering me a lot. The egede wasn't ready so we had to wait. My aunt's baby sat on the dining eating a plate of indomie which I kept staring at longingly. My aunt noticed and served me a plate. I ate it with the speed of light and by the time the egede got ready, I'd lost all appetite for it. I still ate it to avoid being slapped into labor.

My small bump is here and I'm looking forward to the second one.

Happy new month y'all!