NATIVE BUTTERFLIES

 "if it's a girl we would name her Chikaimma, And  if its a boy, we would call him Akanniyene." Micheal whispered romantically to his pregnant angel while  gently massaging her swollen feet. Such a rare cojoing of Igbo and Ibibio birds enviably bonded in love.   It was a lucent 15th November morning marking their one year marriage anniversary, and as grace would have it, they were already expecting thier first child.  Micheal's parents were Igbos

while Favour's were Ibibios. Looking behind the windows of twelve (12) months past would only remind them of the tussel been through in a bit to get matrimonial consent from tribal consious parents. nonetheless, one can only laugh at such myopic differences, because like Travis Green once sang; " Love Would Always Win!".

'Cring.. Cring....'The door bell rang. Micheal swiftly rushed to check on the ringer. It was the fruit vendor as usual. And while the both kept talking Favour screamed for attention. "Angel what's the matter?" He asked frightenedly,  noticing her loosely worn night wear wet undermost in pale yellowish fluid. She wasn't bleeding yet soaked like one messed in urine. Her water had broken before constraction, and this wasn't a good sign for a  gravida of her kind in the 40th week( the last/third trimester).

"Do you feel pains?"

"Not at all, but I just know all isn't well, I should see Dr Bitty please." Favour replied panicking wildly.

They soon arrived at the obstetric clinic both having multiple thoughts ruminating their heads like ocean tides. They can't afford to lose this child, at least not after the victory of such a cross_ethic  tug_of_war.

"Madam you may come in." Dr. Bitty called in Favour for a V_medical examination. While she went in, Michael continues to reminisce on  the past misunderstanding their parents had before their wedding. The joy of this pregnancy was indeed a unity glue connecting the both families together. 

 "What do I tell Mama went wrongt?" he solioquised within. 

Yes, Mama was his greatest fear.

 Why?

Mama(Micheal's mother) never dreamt of welcoming Favour for a daughter in-law. Apart from the fact that she wasn't from the east, Mama always wanted Micheal to  marry Amanda, the  Chaplain's last daughter right from the time they were little in the Presbyterian Junior Choir.

Undoing this was hard, and for the first time Micheal had to go against his mother's wish. 

  " Oh Lord not again...". He muttered to himself meditating  seriously until one of the nurses interupted; "Mr Michael, the doctor would love  to meet with you in his office." 

At this point he just concluded that his fears were hatched.

"Sir I called you in here because your wife just had a 'Pre_labor Rupture of Membrane" (PROM)". 

"And what is that supposed to mean?" He asked desperately,  rubbing Favour's palm as she laid blue

on the office couch.

" It means the  amoniotic sac (the thin membrane that houses the embreyo) containing the amoniotic fluid has broken before labour time. As such, the only way to salvage both mother and child from infection or further complications is to put her through an induced labour.  By this  I mean force labour Sir,  most  likely to be extra tormenting than a normal labour".

"So what do we do next?" Michael questioned again.

"We would need you to sign the consent form now, because the faster it is done, the better the chances".

All formalities were soon completed with Favour pettingly ursherd into the labor ward.

The pitocin IV got driped into her veins. After an hour constraction started. Poor Favour, the pain was severe, so great that she couldn't bear anymore.

" Ohhh... Doctor I can't do this anymore.... I am losing it." she cried out in torment.

"Madam you can do it!"

"No I can't.... I can't anymore.....".

"Please call in her husband" Dr. Bitty said  sending a nurse to fetch  Michael who was moving back and front the ward corridor.

Michael rushed  into the ward, and couldn't help but try to  man over his tearful countenance on seeing Favour in such a helpless State. He sniffed for a monent, pulled off his gold necklet and wore it around her neck. And then said; "Angel, I know we never bargained for this rash sort of painful  delivery, but please lets do it for us. Endure the torment and  push!!! 

Push for our families who thought we would never be good together. Push!!

Push  for enviers who are gladly waiting to  to see us part ways.

Angel push for the future we promised God to build together.....

Push for the hope we owe the generation yet unborn.

"Ahhhhh......Ahhhhh....ummm!!(deep breath followed by the loud cry of a neonat boy). Finally Akanniyene waa born.  

Akan means victor 

Yes,  Victory cometh after much travail. 

Exactly what God expects of us in reality.  Most time we  just need to endure life induced pain and  push through for a brighter future.

We need to overlook the hurts and travail in face of lack,  stabs and betrayal.

We need to wear  Christ's necklet of faith around our neck so that our minds can remain stable  while waiting.

We need to succeed inorder to prove to the world  that "God is not dead!"

I know its hard,  most times your happiness water tends to gets broken by the ones you trust most, but don't give up,  keep pushing.

You know why??

Because God is putting you through a trying labor that would birth the extraordinary out of you.

So  please don't die with those dreams stillborn

He knows your name

And has got good plans for you.

It would be kingdom embarrassment resigning from a future heaven had long signed

" if you faint in the days of adversary, your strength is weak" (Proverb 24:10)

I pray you never loose it just when you nearly conquered.

See_You_At_The_top!

Written by;

JOY EKPO @ JoyGold Inspiration....