April 12th, 2008
Hmmm…I just don’t understand this EWCM wahala oh!!! Yesterday, and this morning, I noticed cervical mucuos that looked like what I can only describe as snot! But when I read up what it is supposed to look like, the thing dey tire me oh! I’ve read that it is supposed to look like raw egg white (this I can understand, because I’m quite sure I’ve seen this before), but anytime I read it can also be ‘creamy, like hand lotion’, I just can’t understand that one oh! Whatever sha, I’ve seen EWCM today, and have noted it down.
Another thing to moan about (okay, you can tell I woke up on the wrong side of my bed today) is the fact that I have been extremely gassy these last few days. I would like to lie that I’m upset about it, especially as Javier hasn’t been particularly amused by it all…but considering it’s one of the most common pregnancy symptoms, I’m mega excited!!!
According to my ticker, it says I have 10 days to go until I can take a pregnancy test…which would be the 22nd of April. That would be weird, because it’s my parents’ wedding anniversary, which would have been really cute, except that they divorced 5 years ago. It was a very stressful and sad situation, as they had been married for over 30 years when it happened. Yes, their marriage had been less than ideal, plagued with yelling matches for as long as I can remember, and with my Dad’s infamous wandering eye not helping matters either. Still, they had seemed to coexist well enough. But when we found out that my Dad had actually fathered 3 children with one of his numerous girlfriends, it had been the final straw to break the camel’s back. As myself and my siblings had all moved to the UK by then, my Mom had quietly moved her things out of the house, and back to her family home in Lagos Island. It had seemed the quiet and peaceful solution, until my brothers heard about the turn of events. The proverbial katakata burst! I’ll leave out the messy details, but let’s just say that by the time we all came home for Christmas that year, Mom was back in her home, and Dad had been the one to rent a small place for himself and his new family. Even though I wasn’t what you would call a Daddy’s girl, it had really hurt me to be estranged from him. But I also could not wrap my head around his betrayal. We are still trying to repair our relationship, and it took the intervention of senior family members, and even our family Priest, before my brothers allowed him walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. Anyways, I digress. If I were to test positive on that day, it might even be great, as it would give us something different to celebrate on that day!
Anyways, I’m off to meet with Solape now! I typically like to reserve my Saturdays for mainly domestic stuff…grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, and general DIY stuff. But I have missed my bestie for way too long! I can’t wait a second longer to see her!
April 13th, 2008
I woke up in a foul mood. I’ve never really been a fan of Sundays. I don’t go to Church as often as I’d like (my excuse is that I don’t like the parish near me, but I know that’s not good enough). Sundays just remind me that the weekend is almost over, and as I’m back at work tomorrow, I’m feeling the Sunday blues even worse than ever!
And my bad mood can also be blamed on my visit with Solape yesterday. Oh my goodness…where do I start with that?!
I should have sensed the red flag when she had asked me to meet her at some address, all the way in Croydon, instead of the flat she had shared with her sister, nearer town. Ah well, I just figured that maybe she’d needed a place of her own. As I made my way there, it occurred to me how little Solape and I had r-e-a-l-l-y talked in the last few months. Yes, we chatted on BBM almost daily, but it was mainly superficial stuff…admiring each other’s display pictures, gossiping, or moaning and whinging about some peeve or the other…but it had been a while since we had talked at length!
As I approached the address she gave me, I had a deep sense of foreboding…and when she opened the door, I knew immediately that she hadn’t left Scotland because of the weather or ‘lack of men’. She was wrapped in a thick housecoat, with her hair disheveled, and her face pale. And underneath her housecoat, I could clearly make it out…a small bump. My friend was pregnant.
We were soon in each other’s arms, hugging and crying. When we were eventually seated, she told me how, shortly after she got to Aberdeen, she had started seeing this Nigerian guy, who worked with one of the multinational oil companies there. But about 3 weeks into the relationship, just when she was feeling comfortable enough to tell her friends about him, she had found out he had a wife back home in Nigeria. But according to her, she was already too deep in love with him to break it off…and so they had continued. I had to restrain myself from asking how on earth she could have been too attached only 3 weeks in, but realised it would be futile at this stage.
My heart broke as she told me how she had gotten pregnant for him four times over the 2-year period…and had been forced to terminate the pregnancies each time. She said that the most recent had happened a week before my wedding, last November. Yes, I had noticed that she had seemed quite pale and subdued at the wedding, but I had foolishly (and vainly) thought it had been because she had been a little sad about me marrying before her. How selfish I had been!!!
She continued, saying she had found out she was pregnant again, shortly before Christmas, and had flatly refused to have a 5th termination. When she told her boyfriend that she would be keeping the baby, he had transformed from a wonderful loverboy into a raging beast. He had physically attacked her, and beat her black and blue that night. She had moved out of their apartment into a hotel, and thought that would be the end of everything. But he had proceeded to harass her with threats about how he would kill her if she attempted to keep the baby and destroy his life. Even when she had assured him she would have nothing to do with him, and that nobody would ever know, least of all his wife, it hadn’t made any difference. In the end, she had gotten tired of looking behind her shoulder, and had resigned her fantastic teaching job with the Robert Gordon University. So, here she was…hiding out at a friend’s house because she was yet to inform even her family of this pregnancy.
My heart broke into a million little pieces, as I assured her that there was no way the useless excuse of a man could ever do anything to hurt her. I promised to be there with her when she broke the news to her family, and she jokingly started referring to me as the potential Godmother. I didn’t have the heart to share with her my own struggle.
As I sat in the train on the way home, I couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down my face. Here I was, struggling to conceive, and there was my friend, getting pregnant with every sneeze. Oh, the irony!
I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to Javier about it, when I got home. All I wanted to do was sleep, and end the nightmare of a day!
So…that was how my Saturday ended up colouring my Sunday.
I went to bed dreading having to go back to work tomorrow…and also how I could trace loverboy’s wife back in Nigeria. It was high time she found out what monstrosities he was committing in Scotland…before he got another hapless woman hurt again!
For the TTC Newbies
EWCM = Egg White Cervical Mucuos