I’m lying here in my little whitewashed cubicle, propped on whitewashed pillows staring at the murky grey lake below, wondering whether the out-of towners realise that this is no ordinary natural lake. Rather a city council initiative to filter the sewage for a fast growing city. As I watch Life go by languidly without me, I feel contempt at my ineffectual existence.
I feel so livid that cars are not stopping and people are not crying nor screaming out my name, willing me to fight on.
Is this anomie I feel?
The immense feeling of helplessness so deep that one could open this window and jump onto the tarmac 5 storeys below?
Not necessarily, I still have the will to stay on, I still breath the urge to fight like Iopu, to conquer Goliath like a defiant David and to sting like a bee like Mohammed Ali.
My dramas started two nights ago while deep in slumber, when I was woken by sharp pains on the right side on my growing belly. After several minutes of tossing and turning, I realised nothing was changing the growing pains which were beginning to reduce me to tears.
I’m only 6 months pregnant after all, why is this happening?
Gui called the midwife who adviced us to get to the delivery suite as soon as possible.
After hours of stabbing pains, steroids and painkillers, I was reduced to an exhausted heap and fell into a deep sleep with my husband by my side, completely distraught but still staying strong, reassuring and encouraging me to hang on in there.
While all this madness is taking place, baby is kicking happily, flexing thy muscles, stretching thy arms as if dancing (me thinks) or boxing (Gui thinks). During the scan, baby demonstrated several kicks to my right side that caused everyone to laugh except me who is winching from the pain.
So I spent last night in the hospital, in a shared room of snoring mamas and beeping machine and the occasional scream down the corridor for a dilated mother about to push out a bloody bundle of joy, agony, heartache, depression, amazement, blessing and inevitable responsibility of motherhood, responsibility, selflessness, exhaustion and stretchmarks, so help me God, Bona Mere and all being devine.
We are ever so grateful to our families for supporting us throughout this little scare. Especially my mom who has been on the phone the moment we told her of what's been happening. Thanks for the prayers, thoughts and love.
We definitely felt the love from the two corners of the globe and it definitely reminded us that we are never alone.
.jpg)
Faafetai Lava, Merci Beaucoup, Thank You, Danke Schon!!!
