Monsters in my mind, angel in my belly.
2 weeks ago, I did a pregnancy home test. I did not suspect I was pregnant because I am on birth control. I was goofing around and guess what… 2 freaking lines. A positive. I laughed. Rushed to the pharmacy and bought 2 more tests. Christmas Eve was pretty wild huh? I asked myself nervously. I chuckled as I remembered 2016.
My boyfriend and I got shifaced drunk the whole time. Love was in the air and 2016 was our year as we vowed that 2017 would be exuberant. We spend the whole week cuddling and doing it and more cuddling and cooking and reading books and taking photos of our room. It was the best Christmas and new year’s Eve I have had. Guess what- both 3 were positive. We had joked on how we wanted babies, we just never said when. Besides, I was giving myself one more year before we started a family. I have an intense fear of needles but I rushed to the hospital and took 2 tests. Both were positive.
Shit you not- I sat down on the freaking floor and saw my whole life laugh hysterically at me. I was planning to apply for master’s scholarship and here I was- carrying a baby. You know; I went back home with my best friend and texted my boyfriend- wait a minute before you judge me; I asked him to come over so that we could talk. He came over after a week and he was so furious that I did not tell him as soon as I found out. Men are weird… Here I was being all courteous and shit and he was flipping out because he heard the news a bit late in a decent way. Anyway, love the flaws- right? I love that man.
A friend of mine- equally a feminist but with a different ideology once told me that feminists are not supposed to get pregnant before the age of 30. “If they do- it should be planned with a rich man and a famous one at that.” She told me. Feminists are also not supposed to have boyfriends and love them. They are supposed to have fuckmates and treat them like lesser humans if they are men. I laughed and asked her to immediately stop calling herself a feminist. She laughed and asked me to be as tolerant as she is. Dear Lord!
So, I have failed the feminism movement (my friend’s weird feminism standard gauge) in their eyes because I am pregnant with the love of my life at 24 and we are starting life in the smallest way possible. Not a fancy house with a pool and tigers as pets like we see on the movies but a simple dark humor themed living room, an amazingly small bedroom with a pint sized kitchen. Despite voicing for the voiceless and empowering the minorities- my womb has failed me and I am no longer a feminist to them. I was supposed to have a baby at 30 or never.
I have been having shitful nightmares. I have seen a weird shaped animal that would make an amazing comic, I have had a real bat-like creature as my boyfriend in my dreams and I have seen a chicken with 6 legs with the head of a snake. I haven’t been sleeping much these days. There are monsters in my head telling me to walk away from my relationship, there is a tiny voice questioning my decision to keep my baby daily and there is a loud voice that keeps reminding me that as a feminist I have failed myself in the eyes of my friends by getting pregnant.
I used to hate babies. I hated the way they cry, the way they smile and I hated the financial, emotional and social responsibility they shamelessly bestow unto you. Lately I smile at all babies. I smile at other people’s babies and I would gladly look at a mother’s boring gallery of her insanely annoying baby. Because I have an angel in my belly.
I have been a chain smoker; I cannot tell you how hard it has been for me to quit. From 2 packs a day to almost none- well, some days I get so worked up that I smoke a cigarette or 2. Down from 24 plus to less than 5 in a month, that is an angel right there making me take such steps. I was becoming a drunk. I always had a beer or 2 daily- I haven’t had a beer in 2 weeks. I do not crave nor think about beer.
In my country, our parents are as tough as it gets so as you can imagine- at 24 years old, I am scared shitless of telling my father that I am having a baby. I am scared of visiting my aunts in case they find out and I am scared shitless of giving my mother a heart attack. At 24, I have graduated, I have had a few on and off jobs but I am scared fuckfaced to talk to my family. Why? Because I raised my bar so high- they thought I would never find a man to love me and here I am- pregnant and loved.
Have you been to East Africa? If you have, next time you are around- do not visit the Maasai Mara; look for me as your host and crash on my couch as I take you through the cultures of Kenya- my country and take you for visits. Hopefully, I will not be super pregnant or my nanny will not have fled with someone to get married.
Anyway, about the nightmares; turns out the creature I saw in my dream is just the snake version of my towel. Same pattern. So, as superstitious as I get- I am throwing that towel out immediately. I am also planning to going back into watching tons of anime's and animations and chilling the fuck out. As my womb stretches out and gives me insanely weird cramps which I am told are perfectly healthy- as I can’t keep food down and sometimes get mad at my boyfriend for nothing- I am confident I will do okay. Being a young mother and a feminist yet African is conflicting as fuck and not having your parents to confide in because you are scared is equally silly!
Well, I have been writing for years now but I think it’s time to start a mommy blog or something. I wanna have both blogs on being a feminist and being a young mother. Well, strange but I do. Because I am both now.