Can we try again?

Twenty- five

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. My baby grew. My stomach distended to accommodate the little human in me. My appetite increased. My nausea and vomiting subsided. Fatigue consumed me most days.

My pregnancy wasn't a hush-hush situation anymore. It was out for the whole world to see. My bulged out stomach and the way I waddled around like a penguin. I could hide it no more. Eyes peered at me most times I was out. People gave me glances, at home and at school, pretending they were happy with me, but I knew what they were thinking,  you're not married and you're pregnant. What a shame! Don't you know that fornication is a sin? 
I realised I didn't give a damn anymore. With each day that passed, I began to understand that it was nobody's business. I am pregnant and not married. Yeah, so what? I'm not the first one and neither will I be the last one.
Mistakes happen. I've made one and I'll live with it.

I had the support I needed and that was all that mattered. My mum, Ijeoma, my siblings. Even my dad had begun to soften towards me. A little. But it was progress, that I could say.
The other day, he laughed at a joke I said as we were sat in the living room. Then, as if he realised he wasn't meant to be speaking to me, he immediately stopped, turned to me and put his stern face back on. It made me giggle.

Being pregnant was a weird feeling. Being pregnant and not knowing who the father was, was even weirder. At first, you want to flush out the seed that has been planted in you by a stranger and then eventually, you begin to fall in love with it. This seed that has kept you up most nights sobbing. The seed that nearly tore your family apart. The seed that you so wanted to get rid of and you called a mistake. 

I was suffocated by guilt each day I remembered how I first felt about it. How much I hated this seed that I thought had come to put an end to my life. 

But it was different now. Something was changing. Day by day, the love I had for my unborn child began to grow. I would look at myself in the mirror and examine my stomach, sometimes talking to my baby. If you could hear me, I would say, I'm really sorry for how I treated you at first. And know that mummy loves you.

Mummy.

I am going to be a mother, very soon. The thought sent a frisson of excitement all around my entire body. I had already started making arrangements, going baby shopping, preparing for the big arrival.
I'd also been thinking about my life as a mum. Would I make a great mum? Would I be able to set a good example for my little one? I hope so.
There were so many questions, but only time would tell.

I took visits to the hospital for my routine check ups. Everything was fine with my little one. I refused to find out the sex of my baby, I was up for a Surprise. Honestly, I didn't mind at all. And I was in a good condition myself which was brilliant.
My final exams were over too, after all the hard work and struggles. In fact, if someone had told me several months back that it would eventually all turn out this way, I would have laughed in their face in disbelief.

But here I was now. I was beginning to find happiness in this once dire situation. At last everything seemed to going well. I couldn't have been happier.

"You have no idea how pleased and proud I am of you," Ijeoma said to me as we strolled along the street. We were on our way to do some food shopping at the new supermarket in the area. Oma was so keen on taking public transport, but I insisted on walking down. It was only a 20 minutes walk. I needed the fresh air. And to get the blood flowing through my engorged feet.

It was a very humid day and even though the sun shone high in the sky, there were some thick black clouds hovering on the other side of the sky, ready to empty themselves. For a big downpour.

"I'm just really glad that it's all kind of working out well. I mean, my final exams are finished. How I managed through all of that, I honestly don't know." I responded.