As you can see, I was here, a few days ago, crying. Senseless crying, dirty crying where both your eyes and nose shed... Ok, sorry, bigger apologies if you were eating but yeah, that's how it was. I was just about ready to go down and be collected from there, thankfully though, my God has ensured that I have enough strength to remain standing.
No, nobody died. When I lost my uncle 2 years ago, I cried just as bitterly, I never managed to attend the burial ceremony, I laid down my flowers 2 days later just before I left for Nairobi again, to resume my busy life and put it behind me. I did, but my uncle has never left me, his memories are so live, the pain of losing him so fresh. It's easy to ignore, but it has never gotten better, it never really will. I guess loss is loss, my cry last Friday sounded almost similar, I'm no longer crying but it isn't better.
So this guy Ben, the only one man, my man for the last 2 and half years, the face of my blessing whenever I'm praying for them, my dream when I slumber, the wish of my soul, the one man every one has warned me about, including me, but I never heeded, the one man I knew the only way to leave him is if he left me, well, the day finally came, the day when he decided I was more of a stress causing factor in his life, what a shame!
I'm not sure if there would have been easier way to break it off with me, but I have a feeling he was trying, coz he did quite some circles. The issue was, I wanted to be a business partner, and he was adamant, I could only be his business partner as a friend, purely that. But my question was, to remain a girlfriend, all I had to do was quit the business? anyway, he finally came up with 3 choices!
I have deleted the entire conversation we've ever had, damn, I even deleted the number even though it's at the tip of my fingers, but for some reason, those 3 choices are stuck in my head, stuck stuck! damn! This is where you wonder if it will get better with time or you will just ignore it and move on with life, just as it happens in the cause of death.
My 3 choices were: to be a friend in business, to be a friend without business, to be an enemy! I know even you are laughing, even I couldn't find where I would ever belong there, I still can't. That day, I managed to say that since I cannot exactly be an enemy because I am no one's enemy, and I can't be a friend, I will just be that person, or that chik, or some chik... I think that is the best choice ever. Better to forget there ever was, even if it's forced memory loss. I'm still in love with that choice, not withstanding that it was communicated in the state named above, thank God for small blessings like a corner booth in an open office!.
Anyway, as I work on getting words off my brain, I've tried to be positive in this. Nothing is ever too big if you are still breathing, right? there are worse losses. There are orphans out there and they do not cry every damn minute, there are widows and widowers and finally, I guess we all know that better a broken relationship than a broken marriage, right? there are a few blessings I'm counting out of this end. They are:
1. It was true love, at least on my side it was. But it was not a marriage, and it was only 2 and half years long. I came to that conclusion when a friend yesterday told me about her friend who got kicked out by the hubby 10 years into the marriage and about 12 years of knowing each other. Case in point; she was unable to bear babies. Talk of a double stab! That's like being stabbed directly into an everlasting wound, it makes my breakup look like baby play. If that is what would have happened to me had I ended with Ben, then is there a bigger blessing than this breakup? too bad we'll never find out. It could have also ended up to be married bliss.. just saying, lets leave the unknown to be just that.
2. I was not pregnant for Ben! This is particularly huge because, had our wishes been granted, I would likely be 2 months pregnant now. I removed the coil about 2 months ago because we wanted to get pregnant, yes! that was a close escape. I would be half dead by now, woi!
3.We had not gotten to a point of dependency, where one of us depended on the other for anything. So besides the dizzying emotional imbalance, my family even had excess for that day and for days to follow, God is our only provider. I will miss on the occasional advice, exposure and encouragement, criticism that makes me grow, but well, the important is catered for and by now, I can propell my own future. Or rather I'm planning to give it my best.
So yes, I'm still mourning, but the tears come less often and they are less fierce. I actually noticed that they were not as bad as the tears I shed when he told me that he was married and he was sorry for going against his 9 year innocent wife. I got over that statement, (though it's still stuck!). And now that I'm on it, a wife seems to have been more bitter than rejection! I drove around for weeks, howling in the car like a woman in labour, eveyone on the road, at work, in my house, could see clearly that I was in mourning. This time, besides a breakdown episode at home on the eve of the d-day, and the free flowing tears at my desk as we did that conversation (a colleague saw that), I have handled the disguise very well. I shed a few tears in the car, mostly in the bathroom, and today, just teared up but nothing really came out. Talk of growing up!
Never the less, I guess in this world, we all need to accept that we can control a few things, but we cannot hope to control people. We can love but it doesn't necessarily mean to be loved back. I might have wanted nothing more than Brian in this world, but clearly he didn't, and I cannot do a thing about it. So I will do my best, and commit my future into the able hands of fate. All I can say is God knows I loved this guy, He also knows I was faithful, He also knows I tried, the rest doesn't matter. This is my life, I gotta live it, dissapointments, broken loves, more dissapointments, failed relationships, trying to be busy to fill the empty sad dissapointed void in me, whatever it takes baby ladybird, you've gotta try love. Cry if you must, but move on you will. What's yours is yours, whats not is not. Tears there... teren teren...
Break time is over, back to graphs and charts, I'm working on a Sunday because a lady has got to do what a lady has got to do. The pain though, waah! It's a cruel cruel cruelest world indeed, very very cruel!
Sunday 12 July 2015
Thursday 9 July 2015
Shame after shame
It's the same old story all over again, shamed once, shamed twice, shamed tenth. But you Jehovah God who is a God with a purpose, please get this cup of shame from me. Whoever it is that I ever wronged, I confess to have had my punishment, it's time to redeem me, please Jehovah God full of Grace and forgiveness, please have mercy on me
Wednesday 1 July 2015
As it is now
I am here by chance, my house which is no longer a home. There is a time this place used to be a place of consolation, to strip naked, expose my maximum, even stretch my legs out for better sight, while hiding my head in the clouds. Nowadays, it's a place I just stumble upon.
I've been looking at my latest posts (latest means this year's), and they are badly written and full of rubbish, yes, they are true, my true life experiences, but rubbish in that they reduce me to a bitch without a life other than that of another human being. No wonder this house has become a ghostly and repelling place...
So, my tale for today is... no tale. I have nothing to tell you because there really is nothing. I'm just happy to be patient because, well, if I'm not what happens? life the way I would have wanted it? I'm trying to be appreciative, I'm trying to have fun and spend quality time with friends, most of who I have recently met, - I have to admit, this has been the height of it, I might have also stolen something forbidden, don't push your imagination too far however.
I'm trying to not let my thoughts go into finances either, coz that arena is a slow one damnit! and last but not least, most important of all actually: I'm learning to pray! One step at a time. I started with appreciating, giving thanks, praising and glorifying God. I'm slowly working on resting my entire faith on Him who can only give me the best, my heavenly Father.
ps: I am curious about prayer and faith. We all know that gayism is unholy and unacceptable if you have any hopes of entering the holy gates one day. But I have a lesbian friend who not only believes and prays constantly, but is also saved and says so. She got divorced because apparently she cannot stand men. For a year, she'd been looking for a female lover, a serious one, with marriage intentions. Now not only is she living her prayers but she's living them in SA with a wonderful lady who adores her and spoils her. (She's originally Kenyan, Kisii tribe but born and brought up in Tanzania). Question is, can you pray to be granted a sin and get it? or did that happen out of sheer luck?
I've been looking at my latest posts (latest means this year's), and they are badly written and full of rubbish, yes, they are true, my true life experiences, but rubbish in that they reduce me to a bitch without a life other than that of another human being. No wonder this house has become a ghostly and repelling place...
So, my tale for today is... no tale. I have nothing to tell you because there really is nothing. I'm just happy to be patient because, well, if I'm not what happens? life the way I would have wanted it? I'm trying to be appreciative, I'm trying to have fun and spend quality time with friends, most of who I have recently met, - I have to admit, this has been the height of it, I might have also stolen something forbidden, don't push your imagination too far however.
I'm trying to not let my thoughts go into finances either, coz that arena is a slow one damnit! and last but not least, most important of all actually: I'm learning to pray! One step at a time. I started with appreciating, giving thanks, praising and glorifying God. I'm slowly working on resting my entire faith on Him who can only give me the best, my heavenly Father.
ps: I am curious about prayer and faith. We all know that gayism is unholy and unacceptable if you have any hopes of entering the holy gates one day. But I have a lesbian friend who not only believes and prays constantly, but is also saved and says so. She got divorced because apparently she cannot stand men. For a year, she'd been looking for a female lover, a serious one, with marriage intentions. Now not only is she living her prayers but she's living them in SA with a wonderful lady who adores her and spoils her. (She's originally Kenyan, Kisii tribe but born and brought up in Tanzania). Question is, can you pray to be granted a sin and get it? or did that happen out of sheer luck?
Monday 1 June 2015
I feel sad, sad very sad indeed. If I had a platform to write that, other than in this house, anonymously and without judgement, I would. I keep wondering why I push things so much, it's ridiculous to think that if I push so much, then eventually I will get. It's stupid to harbour hope for a single item for so long. But then this has held so many Of my dreams, didn't they say my dreams are valid? You'd think Love is the answer to everything, right? I mean even the Bible declares love to be the start and stop for everything.
Thursday 14 May 2015
Teach me How to Fall in Love
After days of crying, mourning, self pity and all that comes with a breakup with someone you loved...you still love, Ben drops this bombshell, that he is married. Wait! He is not just married, he was married all along, the 2 years of my life that I spent picturing him as my husband, he had a wife all along! That is the day I woke up - grew up - and I was not about to shed an single extra tear for this man, and whatever belongs to him. It's a vow, I swear even, I will never.
Fast forward 2 weeks later, I start chatting with an ex-colleague, a guy I worked with in the year 2010 and a guy I had not talked to for more than 7 months. The story behind this guys is interesting, he is a trully wonderful guy, clean hearted and an open book. Gets better, since the day I reported to that company, he has always been in love with me! and believe me, I was not a very lovable sight back in 2010, I was still battling baby weight, didn't know how to dress up and assuming I did, I had not even enough money to make my hair twice a month, leave alone buy pretty clothes. But for some reason, this guy who was already earning good money and was exposed to many women; loved me. I also had no time to love at that point, so even after his declaring his love for me countless times, I just smiled his way and wondered what the heck he was on about. By the time I could give someone a chance, he had most likely given up and therefore, the someone was never to be him.
Until some time in 2012 when I gave him a chance, then quit on him after a week of hooking up and a day of visiting his house and finding one week dirty utensils in the sink. I was so disappointed, I helped clean them and left, and that was the last he heard of me. Until 2 weeks ago, I found a memory on facebook where he had declared his love for me and looked him up. Lucky for me (or strangely) this guy was as accommodating as any other time I ever tried calling him up (I have to admit this is a bit scary). We decided go out. Last week I visited his place to pick some few things, and he had spruced it up a little (it's still a junk but it's a better junk now). He says he tried to upgrade for me, mmmhhh...not saying anything.
I believe there are few good guys, even less than few when it comes to what tickles my fancy, but I gotta vouch for this guy, he has it, he is good, he's calm and corrected, he's mature, he earns and he's genuine and quite open. We've not been so close but I feel comfortable in what I know about him. Further, he's ready to take me with him home, not officially (only because I completely refused something official before I am ready for it), but on a disguise event where I can go as a friend and get to meet his family, and I'm guessing figure out if it's the lot I would like to be related to.
Am I lucky or what! I would like to think so but the fact remains I do not love this guy, not the crazy unconditional love that should be. This is everything I have ever wanted, handed to me so easily, I really am so lucky, and I really do appreciate it and despite my wishes that I was getting it from someone I trully adore, I plan to stay there and try. But I need help, I need lots of help to love this guy, I want to love him, I'm trying to, I suspect the following things hinder me from loving him and maybe you can advise:
1. This will probably be the smallest, meager(est) and most unimportant of all but I suspect it is majorly the reason my skin crawls at his touch. His wardrobe is made of : baggy trousers which look out of place for someone quite lean, he always combines a shirt and a jacket (badly faded, he doesn't own any t-shirts for weekends), this always gives an impression of wearing too many clothes (not good ones) at the same time and finally, he has at least 12 pairs of the ugliest shoes ever! and none of them is sandals. I almost forgot, he always have to have a cap, mostly the reggae type of caps meant to hold huge dreadlocks, those things are so ugly.
2. His walk is a bit stooped, yeah he's tall but it seems to be a sign of lacking confidence...I could be wrong but Ben was huge and he walked too straight, too much confidence in that one
3. He is unambitious! He is into IT for crying out loud, with a degree and years of experience, he's the IT markets hot cake! I suspect this has to do with lacking confidence as highlighted above. When I took up internship, he was already earning and if he's not careful, I will be earning more than he does in a short time.
4. His house has weird things such as an old desktop which he loves, and a weird looking drum like container which I gather was initially meant to store the shoes! (Insert the shocked smiley here).
5. His music collection is purely reggae! Surely you cannot have taste for only one type of food, no matter how much you love it
6. He does oatmeal porridge. I suspect this is a good quality in a man but for some reason, it never seats well with me. He does a lot of healthy eating like no sugar and brown rice but besides the oatmeal, I'm good with the rest.
7. He goes to Njuguna's for a beer and chicken kienyeji, I always have to pick where to be taken for dates lest I find myself at Njugunas, it happened once
8.He has a gym section in his house and his weights are made of badly chopped building stones. Everything else there is good though, it's my favourite part of his house.
9. He has really ugly old sofas, suspect they are second hand at the minimum amount of money you can ever think of.
Fast forward 2 weeks later, I start chatting with an ex-colleague, a guy I worked with in the year 2010 and a guy I had not talked to for more than 7 months. The story behind this guys is interesting, he is a trully wonderful guy, clean hearted and an open book. Gets better, since the day I reported to that company, he has always been in love with me! and believe me, I was not a very lovable sight back in 2010, I was still battling baby weight, didn't know how to dress up and assuming I did, I had not even enough money to make my hair twice a month, leave alone buy pretty clothes. But for some reason, this guy who was already earning good money and was exposed to many women; loved me. I also had no time to love at that point, so even after his declaring his love for me countless times, I just smiled his way and wondered what the heck he was on about. By the time I could give someone a chance, he had most likely given up and therefore, the someone was never to be him.
Until some time in 2012 when I gave him a chance, then quit on him after a week of hooking up and a day of visiting his house and finding one week dirty utensils in the sink. I was so disappointed, I helped clean them and left, and that was the last he heard of me. Until 2 weeks ago, I found a memory on facebook where he had declared his love for me and looked him up. Lucky for me (or strangely) this guy was as accommodating as any other time I ever tried calling him up (I have to admit this is a bit scary). We decided go out. Last week I visited his place to pick some few things, and he had spruced it up a little (it's still a junk but it's a better junk now). He says he tried to upgrade for me, mmmhhh...not saying anything.
I believe there are few good guys, even less than few when it comes to what tickles my fancy, but I gotta vouch for this guy, he has it, he is good, he's calm and corrected, he's mature, he earns and he's genuine and quite open. We've not been so close but I feel comfortable in what I know about him. Further, he's ready to take me with him home, not officially (only because I completely refused something official before I am ready for it), but on a disguise event where I can go as a friend and get to meet his family, and I'm guessing figure out if it's the lot I would like to be related to.
Am I lucky or what! I would like to think so but the fact remains I do not love this guy, not the crazy unconditional love that should be. This is everything I have ever wanted, handed to me so easily, I really am so lucky, and I really do appreciate it and despite my wishes that I was getting it from someone I trully adore, I plan to stay there and try. But I need help, I need lots of help to love this guy, I want to love him, I'm trying to, I suspect the following things hinder me from loving him and maybe you can advise:
1. This will probably be the smallest, meager(est) and most unimportant of all but I suspect it is majorly the reason my skin crawls at his touch. His wardrobe is made of : baggy trousers which look out of place for someone quite lean, he always combines a shirt and a jacket (badly faded, he doesn't own any t-shirts for weekends), this always gives an impression of wearing too many clothes (not good ones) at the same time and finally, he has at least 12 pairs of the ugliest shoes ever! and none of them is sandals. I almost forgot, he always have to have a cap, mostly the reggae type of caps meant to hold huge dreadlocks, those things are so ugly.
2. His walk is a bit stooped, yeah he's tall but it seems to be a sign of lacking confidence...I could be wrong but Ben was huge and he walked too straight, too much confidence in that one
3. He is unambitious! He is into IT for crying out loud, with a degree and years of experience, he's the IT markets hot cake! I suspect this has to do with lacking confidence as highlighted above. When I took up internship, he was already earning and if he's not careful, I will be earning more than he does in a short time.
4. His house has weird things such as an old desktop which he loves, and a weird looking drum like container which I gather was initially meant to store the shoes! (Insert the shocked smiley here).
5. His music collection is purely reggae! Surely you cannot have taste for only one type of food, no matter how much you love it
6. He does oatmeal porridge. I suspect this is a good quality in a man but for some reason, it never seats well with me. He does a lot of healthy eating like no sugar and brown rice but besides the oatmeal, I'm good with the rest.
7. He goes to Njuguna's for a beer and chicken kienyeji, I always have to pick where to be taken for dates lest I find myself at Njugunas, it happened once
8.He has a gym section in his house and his weights are made of badly chopped building stones. Everything else there is good though, it's my favourite part of his house.
9. He has really ugly old sofas, suspect they are second hand at the minimum amount of money you can ever think of.
Friday 24 April 2015
I'm getting me a toy
I've been single for less than a month! I'm shocked, it feels like forever, but maybe there are other contributors to this feeling? like lack of sex? I'm horny dammit! very horny I'm this close to going to the washrooms and carrying a dick shaped anything there.
Before you judge me, it has been really long for me and my body is in a rage. First it's because before Ben and I broke up, we had stayed for like a month without doing the thingy (damn man was getting it from a wife while I was being so faithful). I also wronged my body in one more area, the weekend when my friend had a wedding, I stopped my p's from f'ng, using some pills, and now I have been spotting for the last more than a week and nothing is forthcoming. So I'm wondering, am I supposed to be craving or f'ng?
The frustrating bit is I do not do random shags, for some weird reason the thought creeps me out. So it's either I am dating or I'm seriously feeling this guy and really want to date him, else I go without, and clearly given I'm not in any of the above situations, going without is the only option.
But now, before I log off and concentrate on the tingly very exciting horny feeling down there, I need a solution, and I do not have one for any foreseeable future. So, I think I'm getting me a dildo, infact, I'm getting it today and I am going nowhere tomorrow, we are going to have a good field day tomorrow in the house, I'm all alone.
Before you judge me, it has been really long for me and my body is in a rage. First it's because before Ben and I broke up, we had stayed for like a month without doing the thingy (damn man was getting it from a wife while I was being so faithful). I also wronged my body in one more area, the weekend when my friend had a wedding, I stopped my p's from f'ng, using some pills, and now I have been spotting for the last more than a week and nothing is forthcoming. So I'm wondering, am I supposed to be craving or f'ng?
The frustrating bit is I do not do random shags, for some weird reason the thought creeps me out. So it's either I am dating or I'm seriously feeling this guy and really want to date him, else I go without, and clearly given I'm not in any of the above situations, going without is the only option.
But now, before I log off and concentrate on the tingly very exciting horny feeling down there, I need a solution, and I do not have one for any foreseeable future. So, I think I'm getting me a dildo, infact, I'm getting it today and I am going nowhere tomorrow, we are going to have a good field day tomorrow in the house, I'm all alone.
Monday 30 March 2015
Single Again
Hi guys, news flash, Ben left. We fell out, and my texts go unanswered, and my calls, well, the one I made today was answered by a feel gooder, fake twanging bitch,who had the nerve to tell me not to ask her questions! Ben wrote back to say she's a fellow student and he had just stepped out, what surprises me is, were it a business call, would she have picked? My heart cries out, but one day my wells will run dry.
Betrayal of Real Love
I must have missed a lot of love while growing up, else, why am I so scared of tenderness? Why am I an addict of unforgiving, unfair, enslaving sort of love? I'm finding it so hard to accept this overflowing kindness from a gentleman, I feel like I do not deserve it. Instead it's like I'm trying to run after my past, and the madharau I'm being shown while at it! I pray God gives me the strength, and instils in my heart the ability to accept real love. Thinking about it, it's no wonder I don't even know how to accept God's love for me! When ever do effects of childhood leave you?
Thursday 26 February 2015
The Birth of my Son
I just read Wanjiku Wanderi's post on her child birth. http://www.judywanderi.com/2015/02/waiting-to-exhale-my-childbirth.html Her description of the whole event was so real, so much like mine. I thought I would take her direction and tell my story.
According to the scans and the doctors meager knowledge on statistics in probability, my EDD (Expected Delivery Date) was 14th of August. Being the second born in our family and the only girl, my mother and I had never really had what can be called a great relationship. As such, I had run away from her two months before the EDD and was staying with my grandparents. I had taken one of the rooms in my grandparents huge home, and had done all it took to make it very welcoming for my child. As it turns out, early preparations are on point, because on the night of 22nd July, my baby decided he couldn't wait to emerge.
That night, (22nd), I felt what could only be described as mild labour. Something close to menstrual cramps only not really. Unlike Wanjiku, I had only a vague idea of the kind of pain that characterizes labour, made worse because by my impatience. I could not wait to see this baby, who, as I forgot to mention earlier, I was sure was a girl. Thanks to the doc who did the gender identity scan, I had enough dresses and my room was hugely pink. So when that strange feeling came in the middle of the night, I rushed to wake my grandma up, labour was here. Now, my grandma has had 9 kids, one look at me and she ordered I go back to sleep. 'You are not in labour', she said.
I did go to sleep, though the 'strange' feeling persisted. I could feel the labour - or what I perceived to be labour - from far inside me. At around 6.00 am on 23rd, my grandma came to my door and asked if I still felt that thing. At that point, I was barely feeling it, and said so, though she insisted that I go to hospital anyway. My aunt, who lived in a rented house a few metres away was called to accompany me.
I could not see my doctor as she had not arrived. I also could not call her because I was not really sure that I was in labour. Instead, I went straight to the pre-natal clinic. The nurses conducted what I see Wanjiku calling VE (Vaginal Examination). According to them, I had dilated 1cm, which could not be ignored. But I had to wait for my doc to make the final judgement.
She came in at 9.00 am, and did the same test again. (I have to mention that the various times I have had this kind of thing happen to me, it is the most uncomfortable thing ever. It is not painful, but damn me if I ever do it willingly!).This time round, I had dilated 3 cm. She ordered that I be accorded room in what they called stage 1 labour ward. There was stage 2 and finally delivery room. She promised to come back later and left me in the hands of very capable midwives. I say capable because they practically delivered every baby that was delivered during that time I was in there without the assistance of a doctor, and yes the baby were quite a number, as you will find out.
For some strange reason, most babies are born at night!. So it was normal that only one more person was in stage 1, and no one in stage 2. This lady, it emerged, had been in that ward for the past 2 weeks. She apparently had high blood pressure which endangered both her and the baby - We should thank God for good health. I noticed that the midwives would check her pressure and heart beat after every 15 seconds. Her husband would also appear after every few hours.
As if on cue, after the check by the doctor, my contractions became quite painful. A jet of pain would start from near my ribs and move down towards my vagina. My aunt left shortly after I was admitted and promised to be back. A midwife came in shortly after I had been shown my bed, and requested that I lie down on my left side. This was the proper position, as he called it. I expressed my concern that this labour was become quite painful and he laughed. Actually what he told me was, you have no idea how painful labour is, the pain now is on the front, the real pain is usually felt by the spinal cord, and the intervals are so close to each other you will barely sit. Just be patient. He then advised that I start walking immediately so as to quicken the progress. That was around 11.00 am, I set outside and started the walk around that hospital, and trust me, it's huge. I would walk for about 5 minutes and when the jab of pain came, I would hold on to whatever was in sight or sit on the nearest bench. I was determined to get this baby out, I did not even go for lunch.
My determination held up until about 3.00 pm, at that point, the pain had worsened and the frequency increased. I could barely walk for 2 minutes without the jab. So I went back to the ward. It was also the same time my doctor came back and did another VE, I was at ...guess what, 3cm! damn! After all the walking and increased pains! I also got back to find a new entrant in the ward, this one was looking at me clinge like she was watching a damn movie. She was not in any pain whatsoever. Apparently she had been brought in because she had outdone her due date by close to 3 weeks! By that time, I was so tired, my feet were swollen and for some reason, I could not lie down because doing so increased my pain. So I would sit on my bunk and and stand after every one minute, no position was comfortable.
At around 5.00 pm, a new entrant into stage 1. When she went for a VE, she was 3cm! I actually thought that maybe this was a standard size for all stage 1 candidates! but for her, her pain kept worsening, at about 6.00 pm, she was vomiting badly. The unignorable pain still wrecking havoc in my body, it was my turn to watch her like an hawk! I couldn't imagine someone possibly feeling worse. But she was crying and growling and I wasn't, which meant that either her pain was worse or my threshold for pain was much better. Afterall, I believed I was psychologically prepared as my grandma had so lovingly advised me to 'vumilia kiume', this was no task for a weak person and whether you cry or not, there won't be any help, you just have to go through it, or so she had said.
7.00 pm, and there were screams allover. Even the lady who had exceeded her due date was now screaming, clearly the baby had sensed it's presence in a labour ward. We went for a VE at that point, my vomiting friend was at 7cm, the lady with the exceeded EDD was at 3cm and I was at.. you guessed right, 3 cm! This was going badly. At 8.00 pm, I could not sit, the midwives had a hard time taking the child's heart beat, coz lying down on my left wast complete drama. At 9.00 pm, another VE, the vomiting lady, 9cm, the other lady, 5cm, Ladybird, 3cm! clearly there was some force seriously acting against me. The lady who had dilated 9cm skipped stage 2 and was taken to the delivery room. We remained in stage 1, I couldn't sit, my spinal cord was on fire, the frequency was like every minute, my feet were too swollen from the walk during the day for me to stand, yet sitting was not an option. During my pregnancy, I had prayed a lot that my child come in July, during the cold season so that the cold could numb out my pain, it numbed out my feet instead, the rest of my body was on fire; I was 84 kgs and had spent hours on end standing, I'm not sure you feel me. 11.00 pm, a baby was born in the labour ward, I had dilated 3cm and the other lady was at 7cm. By that time I was screaming so bad, at one point I told the midwives to take me to the c-section. I think that made her realize what I was going through because at that point, she made a point of trying to massage my belly as she took the baby's heart beat, something that didn't help. The words that came out of that room were crazy, we would laugh with the lady much later when I reminded her of her vow to God to never have sex again if only He would let her live through this.
At 3.00 am, she also gave birth to her child, and I was left with the lady who had stayed for two weeks and who was soundly asleep, amid all the noise. Just to give you a clue at how bad things were, I wanted to pee at around 4.00am, and on going to the loo, I could not bend or squat, so I lifted my dress, chucked my panties and watched helplessly as I peed on myself! Now I was all alone with the cries. I begged a nurse to allow me to see go to the delivery room but she wouldn't, I was just too far off. at around 6.00 am though, she allowed me to stand near an electric heater she had lit for warmth, though she held me the entire time. My aunt came in quite early too and when she didn't find me at my bunk and heard a baby cry, she was all smiles. that was until she saw me all teary, seriously messed up and fully pregnant being held by a nurse infront of a heater. It was about 28 hours since my labour had started, it was bad.
My doctor came in at 8.00 am, one look at me and you could see the alarm on her face. A quick assembling of midwives and an instruction given to inject me with some medicine which would quicken the process, and from there I experienced what I would call real labour. I was getting about 5 contractions per minute. My son (yes son) was born at 1.45 pm on 24th of July, and unlike Wanjiku, I was too weak to see my poop. I still remember the boy, too wrinkly and tiny. Still my source of joy 5 years later.
According to the scans and the doctors meager knowledge on statistics in probability, my EDD (Expected Delivery Date) was 14th of August. Being the second born in our family and the only girl, my mother and I had never really had what can be called a great relationship. As such, I had run away from her two months before the EDD and was staying with my grandparents. I had taken one of the rooms in my grandparents huge home, and had done all it took to make it very welcoming for my child. As it turns out, early preparations are on point, because on the night of 22nd July, my baby decided he couldn't wait to emerge.
That night, (22nd), I felt what could only be described as mild labour. Something close to menstrual cramps only not really. Unlike Wanjiku, I had only a vague idea of the kind of pain that characterizes labour, made worse because by my impatience. I could not wait to see this baby, who, as I forgot to mention earlier, I was sure was a girl. Thanks to the doc who did the gender identity scan, I had enough dresses and my room was hugely pink. So when that strange feeling came in the middle of the night, I rushed to wake my grandma up, labour was here. Now, my grandma has had 9 kids, one look at me and she ordered I go back to sleep. 'You are not in labour', she said.
I did go to sleep, though the 'strange' feeling persisted. I could feel the labour - or what I perceived to be labour - from far inside me. At around 6.00 am on 23rd, my grandma came to my door and asked if I still felt that thing. At that point, I was barely feeling it, and said so, though she insisted that I go to hospital anyway. My aunt, who lived in a rented house a few metres away was called to accompany me.
I could not see my doctor as she had not arrived. I also could not call her because I was not really sure that I was in labour. Instead, I went straight to the pre-natal clinic. The nurses conducted what I see Wanjiku calling VE (Vaginal Examination). According to them, I had dilated 1cm, which could not be ignored. But I had to wait for my doc to make the final judgement.
She came in at 9.00 am, and did the same test again. (I have to mention that the various times I have had this kind of thing happen to me, it is the most uncomfortable thing ever. It is not painful, but damn me if I ever do it willingly!).This time round, I had dilated 3 cm. She ordered that I be accorded room in what they called stage 1 labour ward. There was stage 2 and finally delivery room. She promised to come back later and left me in the hands of very capable midwives. I say capable because they practically delivered every baby that was delivered during that time I was in there without the assistance of a doctor, and yes the baby were quite a number, as you will find out.
For some strange reason, most babies are born at night!. So it was normal that only one more person was in stage 1, and no one in stage 2. This lady, it emerged, had been in that ward for the past 2 weeks. She apparently had high blood pressure which endangered both her and the baby - We should thank God for good health. I noticed that the midwives would check her pressure and heart beat after every 15 seconds. Her husband would also appear after every few hours.
As if on cue, after the check by the doctor, my contractions became quite painful. A jet of pain would start from near my ribs and move down towards my vagina. My aunt left shortly after I was admitted and promised to be back. A midwife came in shortly after I had been shown my bed, and requested that I lie down on my left side. This was the proper position, as he called it. I expressed my concern that this labour was become quite painful and he laughed. Actually what he told me was, you have no idea how painful labour is, the pain now is on the front, the real pain is usually felt by the spinal cord, and the intervals are so close to each other you will barely sit. Just be patient. He then advised that I start walking immediately so as to quicken the progress. That was around 11.00 am, I set outside and started the walk around that hospital, and trust me, it's huge. I would walk for about 5 minutes and when the jab of pain came, I would hold on to whatever was in sight or sit on the nearest bench. I was determined to get this baby out, I did not even go for lunch.
My determination held up until about 3.00 pm, at that point, the pain had worsened and the frequency increased. I could barely walk for 2 minutes without the jab. So I went back to the ward. It was also the same time my doctor came back and did another VE, I was at ...guess what, 3cm! damn! After all the walking and increased pains! I also got back to find a new entrant in the ward, this one was looking at me clinge like she was watching a damn movie. She was not in any pain whatsoever. Apparently she had been brought in because she had outdone her due date by close to 3 weeks! By that time, I was so tired, my feet were swollen and for some reason, I could not lie down because doing so increased my pain. So I would sit on my bunk and and stand after every one minute, no position was comfortable.
At around 5.00 pm, a new entrant into stage 1. When she went for a VE, she was 3cm! I actually thought that maybe this was a standard size for all stage 1 candidates! but for her, her pain kept worsening, at about 6.00 pm, she was vomiting badly. The unignorable pain still wrecking havoc in my body, it was my turn to watch her like an hawk! I couldn't imagine someone possibly feeling worse. But she was crying and growling and I wasn't, which meant that either her pain was worse or my threshold for pain was much better. Afterall, I believed I was psychologically prepared as my grandma had so lovingly advised me to 'vumilia kiume', this was no task for a weak person and whether you cry or not, there won't be any help, you just have to go through it, or so she had said.
7.00 pm, and there were screams allover. Even the lady who had exceeded her due date was now screaming, clearly the baby had sensed it's presence in a labour ward. We went for a VE at that point, my vomiting friend was at 7cm, the lady with the exceeded EDD was at 3cm and I was at.. you guessed right, 3 cm! This was going badly. At 8.00 pm, I could not sit, the midwives had a hard time taking the child's heart beat, coz lying down on my left wast complete drama. At 9.00 pm, another VE, the vomiting lady, 9cm, the other lady, 5cm, Ladybird, 3cm! clearly there was some force seriously acting against me. The lady who had dilated 9cm skipped stage 2 and was taken to the delivery room. We remained in stage 1, I couldn't sit, my spinal cord was on fire, the frequency was like every minute, my feet were too swollen from the walk during the day for me to stand, yet sitting was not an option. During my pregnancy, I had prayed a lot that my child come in July, during the cold season so that the cold could numb out my pain, it numbed out my feet instead, the rest of my body was on fire; I was 84 kgs and had spent hours on end standing, I'm not sure you feel me. 11.00 pm, a baby was born in the labour ward, I had dilated 3cm and the other lady was at 7cm. By that time I was screaming so bad, at one point I told the midwives to take me to the c-section. I think that made her realize what I was going through because at that point, she made a point of trying to massage my belly as she took the baby's heart beat, something that didn't help. The words that came out of that room were crazy, we would laugh with the lady much later when I reminded her of her vow to God to never have sex again if only He would let her live through this.
At 3.00 am, she also gave birth to her child, and I was left with the lady who had stayed for two weeks and who was soundly asleep, amid all the noise. Just to give you a clue at how bad things were, I wanted to pee at around 4.00am, and on going to the loo, I could not bend or squat, so I lifted my dress, chucked my panties and watched helplessly as I peed on myself! Now I was all alone with the cries. I begged a nurse to allow me to see go to the delivery room but she wouldn't, I was just too far off. at around 6.00 am though, she allowed me to stand near an electric heater she had lit for warmth, though she held me the entire time. My aunt came in quite early too and when she didn't find me at my bunk and heard a baby cry, she was all smiles. that was until she saw me all teary, seriously messed up and fully pregnant being held by a nurse infront of a heater. It was about 28 hours since my labour had started, it was bad.
My doctor came in at 8.00 am, one look at me and you could see the alarm on her face. A quick assembling of midwives and an instruction given to inject me with some medicine which would quicken the process, and from there I experienced what I would call real labour. I was getting about 5 contractions per minute. My son (yes son) was born at 1.45 pm on 24th of July, and unlike Wanjiku, I was too weak to see my poop. I still remember the boy, too wrinkly and tiny. Still my source of joy 5 years later.
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