Once a child with the story, now the woman with the dream

It was just like a normal day; rain had justified itself and midnight was just creeping in. You took the wheels, drove yourself down the dark path to the labour room. The day said I am Tuesday, August 28 but you didn't have strength to reply. All you could do was cry out in pain.

The road to the hospital felt like a long journey. Hundred times down the road, you had to hold pain at ransom. I cramped over and over. I want to be out, I screamed from within you. It is getting cold and your skin burn hurt in pain. You groaned, cried, screamed, moaned, prayed; it was a long wait.

Now you've arrived but I won’t. You wonder in pain, what else, could be keeping me waiting. Waiting you had to do this night as you laid in bed with legs apart. It is over 270 days and now your dream seems not to be coming forth. All what your flushed eyes saw were nurses running helter, skelter, your itchy ears thought it heard labour, labour. You bowed your head to pray and cried, ‘Now! Please, lord!’ Before you knew it, you were on your knees, groaning in pain. No one seems to be listening, knives, scalpels, blades, white aprons running the aisle. 
Suddenly, you felt hands pulling you in every direction. They sang in one voice Push! Push!! 
'I am', you said annoyingly. You were so scared; you threw your legs in the air and pushed. 

(noise) screaming

then (silence) 

Alas! Your joy have arrived. It was a long wait but it now feels like a minute.

I am grateful to God for giving me you, my blessed mother. You waited in pain to have me this night, Tuesday 28, August. It won’t have been better. Although, it was a long year, and you faced so much; it was a worthwhile journey. It might not have been the brightest of morning. I might not be the brightest of girls and prettiest among women. My hair might not drape like satin and eyes glitter like emerald. I am your child with a story and you are my mother. Now, I am a woman with the DREAM

This is a tribute to my mum and all the mothers out there. You deserve that attention and all the flowers in the world for bearing pain and bringing us forth.

Oluwamitomisin

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