Gosh, why do I have to use public transport today? Pregnancy back aches and round ligament pains do no get along with these raggedy ass kombis. I am so irritated right now. I want to punch something.
It takes me 10 minutes to climb into a kombi and actually settle down, while an impatient conductor complains non stop. I am sitting here undertone cursing profanities. Seriously my pelvic bone must be dislocated or something. Why is that old lady staring at me? She is literally unabashedly ogling. I gawk at her without blinking, she looks away. Yeah lady, you never seen a preggy woman with an outrageous cleavage? The chest twins are blown up, if there is an F cup, this is it. Pamela Anderson has nothing on me. So we have 27 pot holes from my house to town. Felt each and every one of them, my back oh my back! There is a road in the pot holes. I hate this shitty third world country.
It’s hot In this damn thing, all the windows are closed shut. It’s stuffy and thick with sweat musk. Ain’t people ever heard of deodorant or a basic shower? As politely as I can I ask the lady next to me to crack the window open, I am almost gagging right now. She shakes her head and looks on straight ahead as if she is the one driving. What the hell? I ask again with gritted teeth. Today is not the day lady! She down right ignores me. Husaaa, husaaa I take a minute to conjure my inner peace. NOT working I reach across her and yank the window open so violently. I am ready for war right now. She clicks her tongue in derision but leaves it open. I don’t care, I am here taking lungfuls of fresh air. I can’t wait to get off this thing, we are cramped in here, my knees are jammed against the front seat. Motion sickness is doing the most. I am in a really really bad mood.
Going to this doctors appointment has taken everything out of me. I am slightly limping, huffing and puffing as I walk to the medical centre. I am actually running out of breath, what the hell? I have only walked less than a hundred meters. I stop at a street corner to buy water. While I am fetching my wallet from my purse the vendor guy is looking me up and down. Then he says it, “You are so young, why do you let these men do this to you.?” I look at him contemplating to just walk away and not buy his water but I am so thirsty. “Excuse me?” I am trying my best not to be rude. “Stop opening your legs and ruining your life.” He says pointedly looking at my bulging tummy. At that moment all the pent up frustration evaporates. This is actually funny. I laugh and laugh and laugh . Out of interest I ask him, how young I look. He scrunches his nose up, “roughly 21 or 22.” I am flattered right now. I mean with my fat pudgy pregnant face I look 21? I show him my wedding ring, I am actually married this is my second baby, and I am 30years old. I am enjoying his shock and disbelief. So I show him my I.d, my wedding pics and my son who is the wall paper on my phone. “Well congratulations on your pregnancy and the water is on me?” He says with such good nature I want to hug him.
It’s not such a bad day after all. I walk into the medical centre, confirm my appointment and sit at the foyer as I wait for my turn. Today is the day I get to find out the sex of my baby. Lord hear my prayers, I hope it’s a girl, please God. They call me up, my gynecologist helps me sit down. He is such a gentleman, hubby doesn’t like him. “Your gynecologist is too young and good looking”, he always say every time I have an appointment with him. I am not complaining. So we go through my blood and urine results. Everything is fine except my sugar is high. Damn, I am thinking there is a history of diabetes in my family. My dad is diabetic. OMG, I am thinking of the sugary muffins I been eating! It’s my new craving. I jokingly said to the man the other day, ” The way I am eating these muffins I can feel the onset of diabetes.” Not so funny now. Okay so maybe it might be gestational diabetes and it will go away after I give birth. So I need to go back to the lab and run more tests to confirm if it’s really diabetes. The bad mood is slowly creeping back.
I lay on the clinic couch for the ultrasound scan. My toes are curled up with excitement. The radiographer switches on the overheard screen and there is my baby, he explains everything, shows me the little foot, arms, legs, head etc. We listen to the heart beat, everything is fine. “Can you tell the sex?” I ask him anxiously. “Well yes but your baby is giving us it’s back so I can’t see between it’s legs?” Oh gad damn. “But from the looks of it, it might be girl, but I can only confirm if I actually see between the legs” he continues. The ray of hope is so bright right now I am glowing inside. Might be a girl. That is enough for me to go on until the next scan.
Back in the kombi on my way back home I sit by the window. The wind blowing onto my face, the guy next to me asks me to close the window. I look at him, ignore him and jam my earphones in my ears. Jay Z and Kanye Niggas in Paris is still a fire tune. I leave the window open enjoying the wind. It might be a girl. It might be a girl. Cherish Zuva Mangwende.You heard that God? Do your thing.