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Handling An Early Pregnancy Episode 5


He acted surprised. “Hey, how are you doing? Wow. You still around?” I didn’t know which to answer first. I shook his hand and that of the elderly man he had at the back.

Baby jumped up, rolled and kicked heavily. God! Does she know this is whoever he should be because not father? I mean its him, yeah. The hormones worked well. Funny enough I was excited. “Yes. I am.” He must have hoped that I was back to school since it was early May. Thank God for the early strike. It was working for my good. I was eight months old then. My baby bump was awesome. I look back then and I wish I enjoyed my pregnancy more.

We didn’t exchange much pleasantries. We parted shortly but not without a soft light warning, “were it not for my father here..” Referring to the man he carried. Honestly I don’t know what I’d have done to him. Pinched his nose, told him to carry the baby, kissed him, stolen his bike keys. I do not know. A part of me missed him though. It is stupid to feel so after such negligence but I felt so. Had it been in the dark or in privacy I think I’d have considered having a really good time. God forbid!

Hardly had he ignited his old engine, than I broke down in tears. They flowed heavily down my cheeks. I let them flow. It hurt. It did hurt that he acted like we were just ‘hello’ friends. It did hurt that he didn’t act more warmly. It hurt. I missed him. I missed to hear him say that he loved me, us. That he cared. That he still thinks about us. That he’d come through for us, at least for emotional support if not for anything else. I cried myself dry on my way home. The least I could do is hold my tummy and talk to my baby. Tell her that She’ll be okey. That I love her and would allow no one hurt her. I held her and she hardened. She must have sensed the emotional tension. As I walked home I hoped that he’d call me later in the evening. To say he was glad to see us, find out how we’re doing. He didn’t dare. It was a difficult time.

That evening I tried hard to act fine. Engaged everyone in a simple chat about baby naming. They gave their suggestions but I had already settled on a name immediately I sensed I could be carrying a baby. I had two in mind. That of a boy and a girl.

The last month dragged heavily. I was so tired by then. Oh pregnancy. Oh motherhood. I was worried about labour. Depending on how tired I felt, I wondered if I had enough strength to push baby out. At eight months I had not done any baby shopping! Yes. I didn’t know where to start, what to buy or what not to. I didn’t have the money anyway. Mummy did the shopping for her grandchild! It was a relief. Mummy took care if me and my child! While Mr was probably busy making another girl pregnant. I don’t expect he was abstaining. No.

Let’s talk about another exciting moment. My ultrasound scan at 36 weeks. I was determined I would not ask the doctor what gender my baby was. I would open my Christmas gift box once its Christmas day! Haha You don’t celebrate new year before 0000hrs on 1st of January. Do you?

I laid on the bed and pulled up my dress. The doctor was a He. A father figure. He was friendly. We chatted tirelessly, about school, home, pregnancy and many other things. Aawwwee the cold thick liquid on my belly. Huh He scanned all over checking baby’s heartbeat, positioning, head and the usual stuff.

“What are you expecting?”

“Mmh am not very sure but I think it’s a girl.”

“Then that means you are not ready for the news.’

“Not really. I had purposed to wait till she’s born.”

“Oh. I see. But there is no harm in having an idea, right?” He aroused my curiosity and I wanted to know now.

“Oh can I see her?” He turned the screen and I saw her. My baby. Smiling. And he showed me the genitals.

“What can you see?”

“Aaahh looks like two lips opening…”

He broke into a soft loud laughter. “Naughty girl! Yeah. She is her!”

Wow. I was so happy. I was glad. Ooh Wanjiku is on the way. It was one of the few happiest days I experienced. He queried about her paternity but I avoided it. It saddened my face and when he noticed so he changed the topic.


Mercy Paulo
Journalist practicioner, Writer, and Musician

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