BN Prose: The Late Bloomer By Marilyn Eshikena

Posted on Tuesday, July 31st, 2012 at 12:18 PM

By Marilyn Eshikena

I can see the chaos around me but I hear nothing. I want to hear the words leaving the mouths on the faces that I can see, but the pain between my legs seem to have deafened me. I want my legs to rest parallel to the bed. I think this will soothe the raucous in my lower abdomen. There is resistance. I can feel hands keeping my legs apart… my feet flat on the bed. My body is doing a distorted dance to the rhythm of pain, and I fear that the flimsy apron guarding my decency will disappear. Yet, I cannot tame my body. My eyes are heavy with tears that refuse to flow. My lips part to give passage to screams that I cannot hear. My skin is now beneath a blanket of sweat. I try to dig my fingernails into my palm. Perhaps this will make me forget about the pain. I realize that my hand is wrapped around what feels like a wrist. I turn to find a familiar face staring at me. His eyes are a deep pool of fear. I wonder what he is saying to me. My eyes, tired from the roving begin to shut down…gradually. I need to remember how I got here.

“Push!” I faintly hear a voice say just as my sight meets with darkness. Darkness laced with sparks of memories.

I can no longer remember the exact clothes I wore on the day the seed was planted, but I remember my first pregnancy quite vividly. My breasts still looked like seedlings. Each time I announced that I was sixteen years old, I got the same response. ‘Late bloomer’. I remember sitting in my bedroom and chuckling at the irony of a late bloomer with a bulging stomach.  “She is not having an abortion and that is final!” My father had yelled out over dinner that night.  He was the only person averse to my getting rid of the unborn child.                                                               “My daughter will not birth a bastard!” My mother had retorted.  I sat teary eyed, staring at the untouched plate of food before me, receiving weapons of the verbal battle between my parents. The thought of having an abortion scared me. The thought of bringing the child of the masked man that stole my innocence into the world scared me even more. I knew that obeying my father would mean me waking up, for the rest of my life, to the memory of the day I got pinned to the floor and had the penis of a stranger driven into me multiple times amidst a robbery attack. I was immediately given pills to prevent the pregnancy but something clearly went wrong.

One morning, about a month after I discovered that I was pregnant, I woke up to the realisation that the universe was against the choice I made. My bed sheets had not been familiar with the amount of blood that clogged its fibre that morning. My thoughts were muddled as pain blended with the calm breeze of relief. My mother held me tight, after giving me a gold necklace, and assured me that when the time was right, I would have my own children.  I believed her. I remember that the date on my journal entry that night was 16/11.

I can still see the horror that filled Ade’s face when on our wedding night; he walked out of the bathroom to the sight of his new bride sitting in blood. I looked like a very ripe peach in full blossom on my wedding day, my baby bump very visible every bit a delight to Ade and I. During the ceremony, he had whispered to me, “November 16 will remain a memorable day for us.” I remember that my anticipation grew each time he dropped a hint of what he had planned for me that night. My wedding night fantasy was no stranger to him and he had promised that, despite my pregnancy, he would bring every detail to reality. I lay on the king size bed in the hotel room we were lodged in, still in my wedding regalia, awaiting Ade’s hands to begin their magic both on my dress and my body. He was in the bathroom. I must have been tired because I opened my eyes after what most have been five minutes to find that the bottom of my dress had been invaded by red patches. I looked and Ade stood still, staring at the bed. His words from earlier in the day floated past my ears. November 16. Memorable. Us. I began to shiver as my eyes welled up. Before the tears rolled down my cheeks, I felt Ade’s big arms surround me. He said nothing. Morning came and a note that read ‘There’ll be others. I love you’, lay below a small red box. I opened the box and the most beautiful pearl necklace greeted me. I picked it up and said to myself, ‘There’ll be others’.

Five years passed and there were no others. Instead, my husband and I had unconsciously developed a routine. I had been pregnant three times in those five years, and every November, I remembered the pain of losing a new life growing within me. With every miscarriage, Ade lavished me with gifts. A pair of shoes to ease my pain the first time, a weekend getaway in Paris to have a good rest the second time, a car to try to take my mind off it the third time. The anniversary of the death of my unborn children had overshadowed our wedding anniversary. I sought for a solution wherever I could. I was unlucky. Ade did not see the point in moving the mountain before us when we could easily find a way around it.  I had accepted my cup in life and was warming up to the advice from the doctors to take out my uterus. ‘For my safety’, they had said. Then in April, I found out that I was two months pregnant.

“PUSH!”

I can hear the voice loudly now. I can hear the chaos around me. My body is weak but I send all the pressure that I can garner to my abdomen. My grunts are reaching my ear. Ade is calling my name. I turn to him and he manages a smile.

“PUUUSH!!!”

I bury my fingernails into Ade’s skin as if I am drawing energy from him. I raise my upper body from the bed. My prolonged scream drowns every sound in the room. This is the last bout of strength I have to give. I close my mouth and begin to collapse into the bed… then I hear it. A new sound fills the entire room. I stop midway to look at the direction of the sound. A tiny human covered in blood resting in the palms of a nurse. I finally drop my back into the bed and allow the tears in my eyes flow freely. My hand is now between Ade’s palms. It is the 16th day of November and a new memory, a new anniversary has been made for Ade and I… and our baby.

Photo credit:ziviso.wordpress.com

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July is a special month for us at BellaNaija. This year, as we celebrate our 6th anniversary, we hope to bring something special to our dear readers. Today’s BN Prose is the last of our anniversary themed stories. We hope you enjoyed every bit of it.

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  • 58 Comments on “BN Prose: The Late Bloomer By Marilyn Eshikena”

    Comments
    • Adedoyin July 31, 2012 at 12:29 PM

      Awwwww Nice piece!

    • Gold digger July 31, 2012 at 12:38 PM

      right.

    • MizV July 31, 2012 at 12:47 PM

      Awwww! i just love the way Marilyn writes. This is beautiful. This will encourage couples in similar situations. God makes all things beautiful in His time #Truth

      http://www.cakesbymizvuitton.blogspot .com The Wedding Blogazine

    • MizV July 31, 2012 at 12:50 PM

      And I gotta add. This hit very close to home.. too close. Thanks BN

      http://www.cakesbymizvuitton.blogspot.com The Wedding Blogazine

    • damsel July 31, 2012 at 12:53 PM

      Marilyn,you need to see my face toward the end of these article…very nice.

    • Jay July 31, 2012 at 12:53 PM

      AWESOME! I HOPE THIS IS REAL….

    • lola July 31, 2012 at 12:54 PM

      this is so nice and it brought tears to my eyes, nice write up/ prose.

    • QueenofEverything July 31, 2012 at 12:56 PM

      my heart doing flip flops while reading this – beautiful piece stil

    • Kike July 31, 2012 at 12:59 PM

      story not very clear (rolling eyes)

      • tk July 31, 2012 at 1:39 PM

        Sorry dear, readers discretion advised. Its not rated (G), So no need to roll your eyes…It’s understandable..
        Great story!!Thumbs up…

        • kiki August 2, 2012 at 3:16 AM

          lol!

      • buds August 1, 2012 at 11:08 AM

        I got a bit confused myself to be honest cos I didn’t feel like the paragraphs flowed nicely enough…I got the gist at the end tho and I guess it was a happy ending….pls no replies needed, thank you…

      • toyin August 2, 2012 at 4:34 PM

        i agree Kike I had to read it twice
        i got lost in the middle bit …………….but its not like we can write any better so heyyyy
        well done to the writer
        i wonder if they even read the comments or just click approve and post it

    • rebmei ravag July 31, 2012 at 1:05 PM

      Beautifully written!

    • ArabianPrincess July 31, 2012 at 1:14 PM

      Kike…how so?

    • Seun July 31, 2012 at 1:15 PM

      Well well well, it appearsMarilyn took our comments on her last prose seriously. I can already see it – YOU HAVE IMPROVED REMARKABLY!!!

      Very well done. Great piece. I look forward to reading more prose skillfully written by you

    • Fola July 31, 2012 at 1:18 PM

      Isnt this the Marilyn that wrote Together Again?

      I must confess, you have done well this time. You controlled the plot – we didnt get lost or confused trying to follow the story. You still have room for improvemnt though but overall – I’d say 70%. This is really good.

      Thumbs up

    • efe July 31, 2012 at 1:37 PM

      There is HOPE for us all,no matter what the odds are………………Encouraging PIECE!!!!!!!!

    • Princess of Zion July 31, 2012 at 1:47 PM

      Lovely piece; very painful conceiving a child and losing it. God forbid it happen to any of us! But, Lord comfort all those who have/are going through such a plight! Let them have their testimony at last.

      http://www.princessofzion.wordpress.com/2012/07/31/excelling-as-a-woman

    • chuchusweets July 31, 2012 at 1:49 PM

      I just had a tear in my Eyes…Thank you for this.

    • Ure July 31, 2012 at 1:54 PM

      wow! thank God for happy ending

    • Autoprincess July 31, 2012 at 2:08 PM

      Lovely
      But all i know is that if every November 16th every year, a married woman miscarries in reality, someone would have dragged her to MFM, so they can cast out the “children eating spirit” in her life…

    • olabisi July 31, 2012 at 2:22 PM

      Very nice piece.

    • Chattyzee July 31, 2012 at 2:34 PM

      Nice piece and well written.

    • Tobechidaniel July 31, 2012 at 2:38 PM

      Ouch. Nice piece. Give the lady an epidural next time please!

    • Dziree July 31, 2012 at 2:40 PM

      OMG!!! Goose bumps. Frigging awesome piece

    • Raliah July 31, 2012 at 2:47 PM

      *sob sob* am speechless bt sincerely dis is a lovely piece.Thumbs up

    • Nonye July 31, 2012 at 2:57 PM

      beautiful st0ry! you dont even have to be a mum to appreciate this…thank God for men like Ade

    • kemzi July 31, 2012 at 3:35 PM

      aaaaw!! Lovely! brings back beautiful memories of having my babies. Thank God for his many blessings. He is always faithful

    • climax July 31, 2012 at 3:39 PM

      Don`t you just love happy endings? I almost hugged myself.

    • Maguire July 31, 2012 at 3:47 PM

      Beautiful Marilyn, just beautiful

    • Ada July 31, 2012 at 4:02 PM

      Nice one, beautiful piece.

    • eesha July 31, 2012 at 4:03 PM

      Excellente!

    • Amber July 31, 2012 at 4:08 PM

      Thatz my birthday o

    • timi July 31, 2012 at 4:21 PM

      3 kids in 5 yrs, o boy
      nice piece

    • Jayda July 31, 2012 at 4:42 PM

      Marilyn! I’m so proud of you! Great piece!

    • cathy July 31, 2012 at 4:43 PM

      glad it ended very well

    • Odunayo July 31, 2012 at 6:35 PM

      Beautiful! Marilyn I’m proud of u

    • ify July 31, 2012 at 6:47 PM

      Mery leeeen, this is just … chai!

    • faith July 31, 2012 at 7:41 PM

      Very. Well written n I enjoyed it!

    • X factor July 31, 2012 at 9:18 PM

      Fantastic Piece…..

    • teekellz July 31, 2012 at 9:20 PM

      Waow!!!

    • laughchild August 1, 2012 at 1:21 AM

      marilyn dis is soooo nice,,, writing aint easy.. Great job wish i cud give all d tots in ma head a voice but am scared to write but from d look of tins constructive criticism makes one better… Nice piece darlng!! Keep up!!

    • wow August 1, 2012 at 12:01 PM

      gave me goosebumps!!!!!! lmao @ the mfm comment

    • Nomy August 1, 2012 at 4:40 PM

      Goose bumps and tears! Marilyn you wrote well.

    • Tiki August 1, 2012 at 5:11 PM

      Awwwww!

    • temitope August 2, 2012 at 3:43 PM

      aww, so touching. almost move me to tears.

    • toyin August 2, 2012 at 4:31 PM

      wow that me cry

    • toyin August 2, 2012 at 4:38 PM

      Kike I had to read it twice
      i got lost in the middle bit …………….but its not like we can write any better so heyyyy
      well done to the writer
      i wonder if they even read the comments or just click approve and post it

    • eerinmide August 3, 2012 at 1:55 AM

      she went to my sec skul..head gal in fact! Well done Marilyn. Keep repping the Louisville family. Well written.

    • lazioman August 3, 2012 at 3:19 AM

      This is a masterpiece. Absolutely looooove the conclusion
      Keep it up!
      lazioman.blogspot.com

    • Jamce August 4, 2012 at 7:33 AM

      Beautiful piece and an encouragement to persevere. Bravo!

    • ruzy August 14, 2012 at 12:07 PM

      Ouch……….so sweet.nice write up.

    • nicky August 29, 2012 at 3:39 PM

      lovely piece.it brought tears to my eyes.Really God’s time is the best.to think dt the doctor wanted her womb removed.lets always hold on to GOD.T he husband was very caring unlike some who will say she is using the children for rituals.i wish all men were understanding as him.

    • klova September 9, 2012 at 3:56 PM

      Touching!

    • oluwaseun October 30, 2012 at 3:58 PM

      i cant believe tears jus rolled down my cheeks#so swt#

    • Chydee October 30, 2012 at 4:58 PM

      Very Nice piece… but am i the only one who thought this was about a tomboy?with the title,Late Bloomer?

    • Olori Olufemi March 5, 2013 at 3:53 PM

      Kept shouting halelluya with tears in my eyes like i just heard a testimony. Truly Gods time is the best. Trusting Him is the best we can do for ourselves.