Four years without children is easier than what I saw in the labour ward that day
I was asleep one dawn when my wife woke me up. I struggled to open my eyes because all night she had been on me. We had a first round around 9 p.m. Around 12am she woke me up for a second round. When I felt the tap on my skin, I didn’t want to mind her, thinking she was coming for a third round. She kept tapping me until I said, “Please let me sleep small, I will go to work in the morning.”
She said, “It’s been four years.”
I thought she was saying it’s been four years since we had shuperu so I quickly dashed out of my sleep and asked, “Four what years? Are you ok?” She said slowly, “It’s been four years since we got married.”
Her voice was sombre, the kind of voice you use to tell a sad story. “Yeah, I know. And what’s wrong with that?” I knew where the conversation was leading but I wanted to be sure. We’ve had four blissful years of marriage. The only thing that was making us feel incomplete was the absence of a child.
Her next question was, “Are we cursed or the doctors are not telling us the truth?”
A week after that conversation I found myself in a hospital where I was asked to check the quality of my sperm. I was given a small container and shown a room to the left. The lady said, “Put whatever you get into this container and bring it to me.”
I went into the room and started doing my thing. I needed concentration to be able to pull it off but my mind decided to wander on things that made it difficult for me to hit the target. After close to fifteen minutes I told myself, “I’m a Christian. The Bible is against masturbation, maybe that’s why is difficult for me.”
I dressed up and left the room. At the entrance, I saw two men sitting on the bench having the same containers I had. I looked at them and I bowed my head down. I was ashamed to see my classmates but I was sad, especially for the tick-tall man on the left who looked like all was well for him.
I called my wife and told her my situation. She said, “Don’t come home without giving them a sample.” I screamed, “But it’s not coming!” She said, “OK, let me give you a push. Go in there and let’s have a video call. You know what I mean?” And then she winked at me. I got the message. I said, “Are you not in the office?” She answered, “Offices have washrooms, remember.”
I went back and saw my mate sitting there. The tick-tall one was in, doing his business. I sat quietly next to him while waiting for my turn. When the tick-tall man was coming out, he looked at our faces and smiled. I didn’t smile back. Looking at the depth of his smile, you could see he hit the target. The next guy went in and like three minutes later he was out. I was judging him in my head. “If this took you three minutes then I can imagine how long you last on top of your wife.”
I went in, called my wife on video and it was a successful story in less than five minutes. I covered it nicely and sent it to the lady behind the counter who looked like she was judging me.
When I got the report, I was told everything was fine and was advised to sleep with my wife at least four times in a week. I told my wife, “It’s the same story. the only difference is the number of times we have to have sex. The last doctor said three times. This one said four times.
I had travelled for a week when my wife called in the morning with excitement in her voice, “I have happy news for you, just guess.” I said, “You’ve found a new boyfriend?” She responded, “Ahhh! Today of all days? Is that the only thing you can think about? I laughed. She laughed too. Hers lasted for so long that I began thinking it was pregnancy. She confirmed it, “I checked. “It’s innnnnnnn!”
I told her, “Send your resignation letter to your boss right away. You can’t work again. You can’t be carrying my golden child and be working. Hell no.”
She got the joke. She called me crazy. We laughed. We laughed again. It lasted like forever. But we laughed again. When we sobered up, we thanked God and believed in his appointed time all over again.
Whatever you suffer to get, you protect it with all your might and you treat it as the most important thing in your life. That’s what the two of us did. We were on the internet every night, reading articles on how to care for a pregnancy in the first trimester. We followed everything to the letter. When we started antenatal, we went together. Everything about the pregnancy was about the two of us.
Our baby was supposed to come in June but in early May, my wife started complaining of abdominal pain. It was so severe she cried the whole night. She was like, “I think the baby is coming.” I answered, “Nooo, that can’t be possible. It’s not nine months yet. It could be something else.” She held my shirt and pulled me closer. She slapped my chest and asked, “Have you given birth before? I’m saying it’s coming and you’re saying what? Wear something and let’s go to the hospital.”
I didn’t say a word. I dressed up. Got her into a car and started moving. While sitting next to her with her head leaning on my shoulder, I whispered, “You haven’t given birth before too so you can’t ask me that question.” She was struggling but she laughed. I asked, “Would I be allowed to stay next to you as you give birth?” She answered, “I don’t even want you there.”
We got to the hospital and it was indeed the baby that was coming. We took her to the labour ward and I was about to leave when one of the nurses held my hand and asked, “Where are you going? Won’t you stay and help her push?” I looked at my wife. She was smiling. I stayed.
She was struggling to push. One of the nurses screamed, “Your husband is here, don’t embarrass him. Push!” She tried again and it was like a feather tap. Nothing happened. I saw the nurses going up and down without saying anything to me. They’ll go out together and come back looking like something was up. I asked, “Is anything the issue?” They said all was well but they didn’t look like it.
For over an hour, we were still there trying. I went to where her head was, I leaned in to pray for her. Before I could utter a word all heard was bam! She had slapped me. “This is not time for prayer. Tell them to do CS. I’m tired.” When the nurses came in, they told me they had called a doctor for CS.
About fifteen minutes after the doctor’s arrival, they called me in. The baby had arrived but there was a problem. It was turning bluish. The doctor was folding and stretching him out but he wasn’t crying or anything. Just cold and emotionless. “Is he dead?” I asked. No one was talking. I looked at my wife and she was also lying there without moving. I asked, “Is she also dead?” Nobody said a word.
I was getting angry. “If you won’t talk to me then why did you bring me here? What’s going on he….”
Before I could complete my statement, the baby gave out a shrill cry. They all screamed, “Ahhhh!” I was more worried about my wife than anything so I was still pushing for an answer. The doctor said, “Oh your wife is well. She should be up anytime soon.”
I breathed out heavily and then managed a smile. I said to myself, “This is our first and last child. It won’t happen again. What kind of fear and stress is that?”
We have three kids now. The first one, the one who gave us the most trouble is the one who worries us the most. He doesn’t understand “stop”. You send him, he won’t go. He goes to school and beats his classmates. Every day his teacher would be complaining about something. He comes home from school with his pocket full of toys. He has been stealing school toys. He’s simply incorrigible but he’s also a child. The one who opened the way for the others to follow.
Because of these children and what we went through to have them, I always give my wife the optimal respect. It wasn’t easy but she makes things look easy and because of that whatever I have in my hand, I give it to her. Women. If you don’t love them then there’s something wrong somewhere.