I think I’m pregnant! Imagine! I’m still getting used to the idea. Every time I think about it, I get this sudden burst of excitement that explodes and fills up my whole chest. And a little bit of panic. Of course there is panic.
It’s been six weeks now since I last had my – well, you know what. So that means I am two weeks overdue. That’s the first sign of pregnancy, isn’t it? And usually I’m quite regular. Well, I have been for this past year. I still asked my mom to get me some – well, you know what – from the supermarket. Just so my mom wouldn’t start getting suspicious.
I’m lying in the bath, looking down at my flat stomach, imagining how it will look as it gets bigger. Imagining what amazing things are happening inside it right now. A real baby, growing and growing, developing in there all on its own, with tiny hands and tiny feet and its heart already starting to beat to its own rhythm. How strange and special is that? Or is it too early for that? I will have to check on the Internet.
Don’t get me wrong. I also feel scared. But right now, the excitement part is much stronger. Much more real.
Will it be a boy or a girl? I think I want it to be a girl, a little mini-me with my dimples and my nicely-shaped mouth. But I hope her eyes are like Vincent’s eyes: dark and gentle. That was what made me fall in love with Vincent right from the start – those beautiful eyes of his. I looked up into them the first time and I could hardly bear to look away.
But whatever she looks like, I will love her. From the bottom of my soul. And she will love me. Imagine how special that will be – to have someone else to love completely, and to be the centre of someone else’s whole world! Oh, and I will hold her and cuddle her. I can almost feel her in my arms. How will I ever be able to put her down, even when she is sleeping?
“Tumi?” my mom calls through the bathroom door. “Tumi, how long are you going to be in there? Don’t forget you still have homework.”
“Getting out now, Mama,” I call back. But it takes me ages to dry myself and put on my pyjamas. I keep stopping, forgetting what I am supposed to be doing.
Names! I will have to choose a name for my baby. Agnes after my grandmother who is late, but she was always so good to me? Or maybe something like Beyonce or KeSha? Something radical and modern. Or Brenda after my most favourite singer in the whole world? Or maybe something traditional to show I am proud of my roots?
I suppose Vincent must decide with me. That is only fair. Or maybe he can choose the name if it’s a boy and I get to choose the name if it’s a girl? Oh wow! So many exciting things to think about. This is surely the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life!
“Tumi! Come on now!” Mama is calling through the door, sounding stern.
So I quickly finish up. Get my gown on and sit on my bed with my school bag.
“What homework have you got, Tumi?”
I show my mom. It’s an assignment from Mr Ndwapi – but he has given us a week to complete.
Mom takes a look at the assignment. But then she lifts her face to frown at me: “Tumi, what is going on?”
I can feel my heart beating faster. “What do you mean, Mama?”
“Is there a problem, Tumi? You’ve been acting strange these past few days. You don’t seem yourself. You know you can tell me anything and I will do my best to help you. You know that, don’t you? Is it school? Has something happened there?”
“No, school is fine,” I answer. Almost, almost, I blurt out that I am pregnant and excited and afraid all at the same time. But the moment passes. Not yet, I tell myself. Let me keep it a secret for a little while longer.
My mom gives me a long, searching, worried look. “Please, Tumi, please don’t tell me that you’re…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
“Tell you that I’m what, Mama?” I ask. It feels like my heart is going to burst right out of my chest. Has my mom guessed my secret already?
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Tell us what you think: What would you say to Tumi if you were her mom?