A day in the life of this expecting mommy
I honk the car horn, throw my head back and wait.
I hear fumbling on the other side before the gate creaks and opens in a haphazard fashion.
There, I see Mich, struggling to drag this heavy metal, pulling it back like a playmate resisting his tag. Tripping over his own feet in excitement , he grins as he lets the car in. I roll the car into parking position and switch off the engine.
I’m exhausted!
My back is on fire, my hands and feet are expanding like they are being pumped with air pressure. My facial features compete for space. My nose stretches east and west, my eyes sink under the flab of chubby eyelids as though in the game of hide and seek. My cheeks are filled up like I’m hoarding nuts on each side.
Then I hear on the radio how some crazy Chinese man stormed a kindergarten and hacked 8 or 9 toddlers to death.
I unlock the door and drag my legs out - one at a time. They slump to the ground and I raise my wobbly self up on their support. The weight of my tummy is unbelievable, it gravitates me towards the floor. Pressure on my pelvis, pressure on my bladder, pressure …
Mich rushes at me like a bullet, his eyes sparkling like diamonds, he screams “Welcome back Mummy”. He slams into my side and hugs me tight, as far round as his little arms can reach. The screech of his voice makes baby leap. I smile. What a heartwarming welcome!
I slowly walk into the house, drop my bags on a chair and slump down on the sofa, carefully raising my legs onto the footrest and sighing.
As I stretch and take a few deep breaths, I muse on the news I heard earlier in the day; a plane - Airways Afriqiyah, crashed landed in Tripoli, all 103 passengers died, except an 8 year old boy.
I think of the joys, the aches and strains of pregnancy, how the body works like a machine to make this baby. The woman’s body takes on a new form, it stretches, internal organs are crammed to make space and to nourish new life. Then there is celebration when this baby is born and starts life on its own.
In all this God’s mercies are new every morning; Chinese toddlers die, a Dutch boy is a sole survivor of a plane crash and this African woman, carrying new life in her womb mourns the death of her grandmother. Rest in peace Tata Apio.
What a day, day, day.
I hear fumbling on the other side before the gate creaks and opens in a haphazard fashion.
There, I see Mich, struggling to drag this heavy metal, pulling it back like a playmate resisting his tag. Tripping over his own feet in excitement , he grins as he lets the car in. I roll the car into parking position and switch off the engine.
I’m exhausted!
My back is on fire, my hands and feet are expanding like they are being pumped with air pressure. My facial features compete for space. My nose stretches east and west, my eyes sink under the flab of chubby eyelids as though in the game of hide and seek. My cheeks are filled up like I’m hoarding nuts on each side.
Then I hear on the radio how some crazy Chinese man stormed a kindergarten and hacked 8 or 9 toddlers to death.
I unlock the door and drag my legs out - one at a time. They slump to the ground and I raise my wobbly self up on their support. The weight of my tummy is unbelievable, it gravitates me towards the floor. Pressure on my pelvis, pressure on my bladder, pressure …
Mich rushes at me like a bullet, his eyes sparkling like diamonds, he screams “Welcome back Mummy”. He slams into my side and hugs me tight, as far round as his little arms can reach. The screech of his voice makes baby leap. I smile. What a heartwarming welcome!
I slowly walk into the house, drop my bags on a chair and slump down on the sofa, carefully raising my legs onto the footrest and sighing.
As I stretch and take a few deep breaths, I muse on the news I heard earlier in the day; a plane - Airways Afriqiyah, crashed landed in Tripoli, all 103 passengers died, except an 8 year old boy.
I think of the joys, the aches and strains of pregnancy, how the body works like a machine to make this baby. The woman’s body takes on a new form, it stretches, internal organs are crammed to make space and to nourish new life. Then there is celebration when this baby is born and starts life on its own.
In all this God’s mercies are new every morning; Chinese toddlers die, a Dutch boy is a sole survivor of a plane crash and this African woman, carrying new life in her womb mourns the death of her grandmother. Rest in peace Tata Apio.
What a day, day, day.
Such a struggle your going through.
ReplyDeleteMpozi how many more months? All the best my dear.
jny23 - Such is the life. Some days good, some days not so good. As for the months lets just say I'm gearing up for world cup :-)
ReplyDeleteoh mich... so sweet. that greeting can make everything all better... all the stress of the day just evaporates for a brand new chapter of time with your child...
ReplyDeleteSybella - You know! Then you feel it's worth it all.
ReplyDeleteand you've never stopped writing so beautifully...inter-weaving so much. Prayers for the young 'un
ReplyDeleteThanks Sleek. Hope you are well.
ReplyDelete