TEN
Evenings continued to create a looming apprehension in my heart as my life stretched before me, endless like the night, barren and unfulfilled. My child was no help either. Just when I’d doze off, he’d wake me up, lying low on my bladder, forcing me to get up to go to the bathroom. One night, lying half asleep, I felt the feathery touch of something outlining the contours of my belly. I shot up, heart thudding, raining blows on my belly only to realize that it was just the baby moving inside me, not an intruder. He stayed silent for the next few hours, too scared to move. I nudged him lovingly, seeking forgiveness. He refused. The baby, too, was mad at me. I stayed awake that night. Again.
Most days, I felt like I was spinning inside like a top, unable to stop. The world around me ha
