MY PRIDE 1

CHAPTER 1 

I never imagined I'd be seated here, anxiously awaiting news that will undeniably crush my heart. Mike was unable to accompany me. He had other commitments. He knew how important this meeting was to me...to us; he thoughtfully sent me a lovely text message assuring me that everything would be fine and wouldn't mind whatever the outcome may be. We are in this together. Isn't that part of the oat we took on our wedding day, standing in front of the altar; in the presence of God and man.

   Margaret offered to follow me, hoping that her presence would provide me with emotional assistance. Margaret was like the sister I prayed to have at five years old. I would spend the whole morning devotion asking for a little sister to play with because Nneka would not allow me to carry her own sister. I remember running to mom in tears one hot afternoon Nneka told me to go and play with my own sister. Mom laughed at how silly we were. The only solution she said was to cry to God to put a baby in her. I listened till it dawned on me I wasn't getting any answers. This scenario from my childhood seems to replay itself.

 My gaze rested on Margaret, she pulled a reassuring smile and squeezed my hands. We were in Dr. Uwalaka's waiting room with a slew of other women some who were pregnant and others with newborns; a conscious reminder of what I desired. I've grown accustomed to the unpleasant odor of disinfectant, together with the incessant whimpering and cries of babies that I would undeniably fall asleep here. The hall was rarely silent. A young woman sat across from me, holding her infant in such a way that anyone could tell she was a first-time mom. When the baby cried, she was continuously on edge, unsure of what to do. I wanted that feeling of not knowing what to do when my baby wailed, of not knowing whether she needed to be fed, washed, or if it was just a sign of something serious that needed urgent medical attention. I'd like to have what she has. The lonely nights when Mike was away for business I sat on my bed wondering where I went wrong in life. On other days, I would instinctively grasp my stomach, and I would assertively squeeze it each time I glanced in the mirror, pleading with it to produce, to bear a kid. I will accept it even if I have a miscarriage. It showed me that I wasn't completely barren. A younger me had fantasies about marrying Prince Charming and having a large family...7... Fate, on the other hand, had different ideas for me. The cream-white painted walls of the hospital mocked me; the nurses I have seen on a couple of days mocked me too. How do I get this straight out my chest, the pain I feel deep within and the doubts I have about Mike’s fidelity? He'd soon cease to be supportive and crave children, even if it was just a child.

The nurse shouts out, "Mrs. Catherine Eneh." I leaped to my feet and signaled to her. She directed me to Dr. Uwalaka's office. I come to a complete stop in front of the door to his office and facing Margaret who had been following from behind. “I can manage it from here,” I tell her, smiling as much as I could despite my despair. She softly squeezes my arm and heads back. Whatever the news was, I'd like to keep things private.

I enter his office, which is almost largely empty. He had his books meticulously and neatly put on the shelf above his mini-fridge, with the pines pointing outward in a vertical manner. A laptop, several books, and a table calendar sat on his desk. Dr. Uwalaka, who was in his early forties, exuded the young energy that made him ideal for the job of obstetrician and gynecologist. Children adored him, and I can only imagine the number of ladies who flocked to him, especially when he smiled and flashed those perfectly aligned white teeth against pink gums. His jawline was firm and his face was finely sculpted. It was tough for anyone to concentrate when he smiled.

“It's great to see you again, Mrs. Eneh. “How are you doing?” he inquires. He gives me a friendly smile as if his query was innocuous. I wish he had asked a different question, or that he hadn't had to start the way he did. Isn't it great to see you again? It's lovely to see you again, but why don't you come back next week because you're barren. I believe we'll need to undergo an IVF procedure. 

“I suppose I'm fine.” I could barely hear my voice. I let out a cough to clear my throat and adjusted to the seat. He gave a sweet smile. As though everything was fine with what I just said. He handed me a letter in an envelope. I opened it in front of him and skimmed quickly at its content.

“It says in there that you're fine; all you need is time. You should keep track of your ovulation days and have your husband take you when it happens.”

“But I have” I'm perplexed; I even have an app on my phone to track my ovulation, and I got a small monitor for the purpose. What could possibly be wrong with me?

He seemed to contemplate for a second before asking, "What about what we discussed the last time? Having your husband to come in for a fertility check. You never can tell." 

“All right, I'll take care of it.” There was no point telling him I haven't discussed with Mike yet considering how desperate I appear. I’m not sure how I would to convince Mike to come in for a fertility check. Isn't it going to hurt his pride? Mike knows how long it took for mom to conceive me. it could be a family curse for all we know. “I appreciate your efforts, doctor.” 

He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I don't want you to be concerned about this. I've had comparable occurrences in the past few years; it could be a strain, inconsistent ovulation tracking, or even could be from the partner. There are, however, methods to work this into being pregnant. Don't put too much pressure on yourself; I need to figure out what's wrong and propose remedies." He encouraged me, "Until I say nothing can be done, I need you to eat correctly, sleep well, and keep working hard in that area."

“I appreciate it. I'll see you soon, right?” I deliberately made it come out in a question.

“Sure,” he says, revealing a lovely set of teeth.

I stepped out of his office and into the hallway, where a long line of women awaited their turn. Margret approached from the rear. I smiled at her, knowing she was curious about the outcome.

“I'm perfectly fine. I just need to pay close attention.”

“I told you there's really nothing wrong”

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   Mike arrived home earlier than normal, he picked me up off the floor and kissed me as though he missed me and wanted me right away. I kissed him with the same urgency his lips demanded, and I felt a tingling on my thighs around his zipper. I gently pushed him aside and grabbed his briefcase. I asked, giggling from our small display, “How was work today?” He stared at me seductively and pouted his lips in a lovely way, making me giggle even harder.

“What you do is unfair; I want you to on this sofa like old times.”

I chuckled and said, "Please go away." trying hard to keep my excitement hidden. He attacked me from behind, his massive arms encircling my waist and nibbling at my ear. “I know you want us,” he said, his voice thick and seductive because he knew how much I loved it.

I playfully poked at his ribs and slipped out from his arms, laughing heartily as I saw him grip the side I had attacked, fall to the floor and grumble in pain.

This was one of my favorite aspects of our marriage. Mike intuitively sensed I would be upset and came home with his playful side.

“I love you,” I yell as I dash into our bedroom to drop off his bag. 

“Love isn't free,” I hear him say. That was clear to me. If I really cared about him, I should show it by kissing him. It was one of the rules when we first started dating.

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 “I'm not going anywhere,” he said, striking the dining table with his fist, stunning me. I'd never seen him act like this before.

I approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Baby, please we need to know what's wrong so that we can...”

“You're saying I'm the one with a problem with his fertility, Okwa?” he interrupts, pulling my hand away from his shoulder as he walks away from where we were seated, towards the door that leads out of the house. “All right, now that your little doctor has been feeding you theories, you believe I'm the problem" he waves his hand behind and slammed the door too hard. I feared the hinges would come off.

I watched the closed door, unsure of when he would return if he would ever return today. Looking at our enormous wedding picture that grazed the parlour, I'm reminded of our youthful expectations. I’m always proud of the choice of dress each time I look at our wedding picture. I looked exquisite in my off-shoulder lace bridal gown, which revealed all the right curves and Mike looked dapper in his white tuxedo. We unmistakably represented a couple enamored with each other.

I had no idea how I ended up in this situation. Chinedu and I had mad ambitions of making it big, getting married, and having children. Seven kids would run around the house screaming. I was nearly happy with him. I wonder if life would have been less miserable and unfulfilling if I had married Chinedu. Is it more likely that I would have had a child by now?

I sat on one of the dining room chairs, my tears threatening to betray me. There will be no tears. I consoled myself. What happened with Chinedu? I thought.