A Promise From My Heart

53.

YUSUF'S POV

I prepared myself for fatherhood. However, I learnt the hard way that the wealth of knowledge does not prepare you for what's coming. I was ready; mind, body and soul but the real experience had knocked me over like a bulldozer. It did not leave me broken or injured but it toughened me. I chose to enjoy every bit of it. The best, good, bad and hard periods.

As our twenty-week ultrasound approached, I searched the internet for articles on it. The search was aimed at getting informed on the ultrasound before going for it. I learnt through my research that the babies' genders should be the least of our worry when there were other important matters. The ultrasound would show the sizes and growth of our babies' body part, including the internal organs. The location of the placental would be checked and any obvious problems with the babies' development would be identified. I was absent during the twenty-week scan of our first pregnancy. I did not want that to repeat itself.

During my research, I had bumped into personal stories that yielded bad results from the ultrasound. A couple found out their baby had developed a brain defect. For another, it was a bone deformation and slow growth. The woman had carried the baby to term but the baby died few hours after birth. Shivers rushed through my body. Not again. Never would I lose a child again. Ya Allah, keep my children and wife healthy.

Amatullah was on the phone with her mother. My hand searched for hers, my fingers invaded the space between her fingers and locked them tight. It got her attention which earned me that beautiful smile of hers. I winked at her and her reaction was one I would always want to see again. The way she threw her head back, nearly erupting into a delightful laugh and smiled. I kissed her palm and held her hand closer to my chest. She rushed through the call with her mother.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked with mirth in her voice after she dropped the call.

"I am showing my wife love." Again, I winked at her. This time, it was thrice.

Her cheeks flamed. "Abeg, concentrate on the road." It was palpable she loved the attention.

"I would rather concentrate on you."

"Yusuf." She called to reprimand. "Face the road. When we get to the hospital junction, I want to buy corn."

"Onitemi, you just finished eating boli and epa." I reminded. Just as we drove out of our street, she had told me to stop by the road side to buy roasted plantain and roasted groundnut.

"You should have gotten used to my eating habit by now. We are at twenty weeks." She passed her free hand over her stomach which has swollen to the point where everyone can notice her pregnancy.

"I am getting used to it."

"What do you think of kpomo inside shawarma? We will replace the beef and chicken with kpomo." She pondered out.

"I can imagine the disaster and nonsense it would already taste like." My nose scrunched to the illusory taste of kpomo as an ingredient in shawarma.

"Yusuf, stop be a spoilsport." She gave me a playful jab on my arm. "It would taste good."

"No. Never. Kpomo ninu shawarma. Rubbish ni ye. Real rubbish." I shook my head. God Almighty! Is this what they call pregnancy cravings?

"It is not my fault. You can blame them." She glanced down at her stomach which she rubbed affectionately.

Their first kick had occurred two day ago. We were in bed on a Sunday afternoon, talking and luxuriating in the amity our presences brought to one another. It was the phase where we found additional motives to be grateful for being together. The union and companionship would never be traded for anything else. Our imminent parenthood magnified everything. I was speckling her bump with kisses. Out of the blue, there was a fluttery wave across the surface of her tummy. We had both stopped talking, our eyes collided with shock then together, we looked down at her stomach again.