Of Yearning, Tears And Acceptance

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The morning of my 31st birthday began with an unfamiliar quietness I had never experienced before. The usual sounds from my mother's neighbours preparing their kids for school had not yet seeped into my bedroom. My little eyes moved slowly around the corners of my room, as if searching for something missing. I did not need to stand in front of the mirror to know I looked like someone who needed saving from the world.

I sluggishly got up from my bed and knelt on the cold floor, with my eyes closed and my head bowed in prayer, asking God to usher me into the new year with the goodness of his love. If anyone had seen me in that moment, they would have seen a helpless woman, hoping for a miraculous intervention in her life. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I prayed. Even God could see that I was tired. My soul was weary. I desperately needed a sign that proved my afflictions were coming to an end.

I kept on praying until I heard the creak of my mother's bedroom door. I knew she was coming, so I began to round off my prayers, preparing myself for her usual birthday epistle that always sounded like a two-page love letter. But something was different this time. She came in quiet, her eyes already teary as she knelt beside me to sing some songs of praise.

We finally said our Amens and she turned to me with a warm smile.

"Adanne, you are a fruitful vine. Believe my word. It may not be today but I trust God that you will carry your own children. They will suck from the breasts you have been blessed with. Happy birthday, my child."

Her words felt like the peace beyond the storm and the calm that settled above troubled waters. I said a short prayer of perseverance for her in my mind. I needed God to preserve my mother's life for my sake. I needed her to live long enough to see me carry my own children.

"I love you, Mummy," I said, as I moved closer to give her a tight hug.

She kissed my cheek and made her exit from my room, while I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a warm bath. I let the water run through my short hair as I massaged my scalp with my fingers. The moment felt refreshing and I knew I was ready for the day.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found that my mum had already prepared breakfast and placed it on my bed, with a glass of fresh orange juice.

I opened the lids of the plates and realized she had made my all-time favourite, Goat meat peppersoup and white rice.

"What a wonderful woman" I said beneath my breath.

I dressed up quickly and devoured the meal like a hungry, happy child. Afterward, I stayed on my bed to read the lovely birthday messages from my friends and family. Most importantly, the one from my husband. He had sent a beautiful WhatsApp message with a video collage of our best moments together. I replayed it again and again, wishing he could return from work that minute. But I could only dream for a short while as it was time to leave for my appointment with the dentist.

I stepped into the corridor and met my mum getting some old shoes off the shoe rack. She looked up at me with her curious eyes.

"My darling, why don't you use the test strip again? Remember your period is one week late."

I looked at her with pity. She had more faith than I did, even though I was the one who desired a child the most. I had so many things running through my mind, but for that moment, I wished God would give me a miracle for her sake.

I held her hands closely to touch my stomach.

"But mummy, you know this is one of the effects of PCOS. The last time, my period was three weeks late and it had nothing to do with pregnancy. I have decided to wait until I see my tummy growing or until I fall ill and the doctor surprises me with the news of a pregnancy."

I could see the disappointment on her face, despite her attempt to hide it with a smile.

"My daughter, I understand you perfectly. It is okay to feel tired, but please, do not lose your faith."

"I will try, mummy. Thank you."

"Send my greetings to Jimmy. I am sure he has missed you," she added.

"I'm sure too. One week without his wife? Even I have missed him and cannot wait to see him when he gets back from offshore tonight."

We hugged each other and said our goodbyes.

As I walked down the stairs, my cheeks tightened with sadness. I could imagine how heavy my mother's heart was and I wanted that to change. I turned toward where my car was parked, praying silently for a faith as inexhaustible as hers.

I kept muttering affirmative words of prayer as I got nearer to my car, asking God not to let her down. Deep within me, I knew that having my own children would make her the happiest mother on earth. And that had to happen.

"It simply had to," I said to myself, as I opened my car.

I sat in the driver's seat for a short minute and remembered the promise I had made the day before my birthday, to let go of every worry beyond my control. But the little conversations I had already started in my head made me realize how easy it is to make promises to oneself, until the heart remembers what it truly aches for.

I wasn't disappointed in myself for going back on that promise. Instead, I saw myself as the woman who was bold enough to confront and entertain her feelings. After all, I was human. I wasn't going to let that ruin my morning when I had other lovely things to look forward to.

So, I turned on the radio in my car and the first song from my favourite Playlist came on. I felt my mood shift slowly from gloomy to something cheerful. The more I listened, the more my happy vibe returned. I took a glance at my car's side mirror, admiring my pretty face, as I drove off to the clinic, hoping to be told I could start having sweets again.

This short story was inspired by this week's writing prompt from the Inkwell community, with the prompt word: "Expectation." Find the full details here if you'd like to start writing with us.

PS: I'm super glad to be writing with the @theinkwell community again after encountering a writer's block that spanned a little over 3 years! This is officially my second short story since then and it means so much to me. Can't wait to write more stories from now on, and also read from friends of the Inkwell community.

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