Dear Son,
These nine months, I waited for you. I talked to you every morning and whispered silent prayers every night, these long unbearable months. I imagined you on the bed cuddled in my arms, your eyes darting back and forth as you kicked your tiny legs in the air. I hear our cheers and laughter on the rickety football pitch that your dad constructed in front of the boy’s quarters
When I suggested to your father the inclusion of a basketball court because I thought you were going to be tall and energetic like Michael Jordan and LeBron James , he says I’m too anxious but I tell him, I’m expectant, that I want to be the best mother you’ll possibly ever dream of.
That I want to wake up every night, putting your tender lips to my breast and watch you suck hungrily while I wipe the sweat off your brows and sing songs like ‘Jesus loves the little children’ or ‘ I love you my child’ . Your nursery has seen a regimen of weekly clean up, monthly upgrading of toys, games, books and anything Mrs. Joe at Kiddies Super Store thought was necessary.
Then the D- day arrived. I was both excited and scared as I was rolled into the labour room.
I bit my lips painfully and pushed. Nothing. I tried again.
Two. Four .Six. Eight hours past and still you remained stuck, refusing to make a move. I pushed again.
I was losing my breath, my strength and hope.
Son, please come out, I screamed.
I could imagine you folding your petite hands and daring me to scream some more. Tears began to run down my face. I couldn’t breathe well and my chest rose and fell in quick beats-up and down.
The nurse shook me vigorously. I jolted and pushed hard, holding my knees for support.
No response. I fell back again. Everything began to go blurry, then dark, then blurry again. I heard your father’s voice faintly. He was calling my name.
“Jesus.” I muttered. My eyes gradually embraced the darkness.
My dream of seeing you had finally come to an end.
I can’t vividly recollect how long I remained in that unconscious state but suddenly a bright light shone on my face. My eyes flew opened. A man in dazzling white was walking briskly towards me. He smiled. I held out my hand to him.
“I want to see my baby.” I started. “ I want to hold him in my hands. I want to escort him to school on his first day and peck him on his cheeks. I want to be present at his graduation and convocation ceremony. I want to wear a beautiful purple lace and a well designed aso-oke, the day he finally picks his bride. I want to help him walk into his purpose. I want to be part of his life.” I was crying now. “I want to see him!” I screamed out.
The man smiled again. He released his hand from mine and touched my protruding stomach. I felt your hard kick again, and for a brief moment I closed my eyes, gathering my strength for another push. When I would open my eyes, darkness was approaching me again but this time I was determined to fight it.
Suddenly I was in another room. Doctor Feyi had in her hands, something that looked like a small knife. She was saying something to a nurse about anesthetics. I took one last glance at my bulging stomach and then I pushed again.
A loud cry rang out. The nurses clapped. The Doctor stood speechless. I smiled.
Weakly, I stared at your little face as Nurse Fedelia held you. My eyes twinkled with amusement at your dissatisfied countenance for forcefully whisking you out of your comfort zone. Your worried father who sat on the hospital corridor jumped to his feet when we stepped out of the theatre room.
Nurse Fedelia finally handed you over to me and for a minute, my eyes took in every detail of you- My bundle of Joy.
Ooops… you are crying now and so I must end this beautiful piece to attend to you or else your grandmother will come running into this ward, lecturing me on the importance of prompt response to a baby’s plea for food.
You’ll always be dear to my heart and I’ll always love you no matter what.
************* *************
Waiting is not an easy exercise. You may be pregnant with that call, vision, purpose and now it looks like it may never come to realization because of certain challenges that confronts you. Remember God cares about you and He will make all things beautiful in His own time.


Keep that hope alive.

About the author

Ife Grace

I am a faith blogger with a passion to contribute my quota to the body of Christ. I am also the author of two books: The Reunion and Spring.


Wrritten by Ife Grace


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