THEME: KNOCK YOURSELF OUT
TITLE: Against All Odds: The Incredible Journey of Surprise
Written by Elsa Khoza
My name is Elsa, and I’m not quite sure how to put into words the whirlwind of emotions I’m feeling right now. I’m a tall and thin 17-year-old girl with long black hair and piercing brown eyes. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I could barely breathe.
How was this possible? I had always been so careful, using protection every single time. But as I stared down at the pregnancy test, the two bright lines stared back at me. One moment of carelessness, and now my whole life was about to change.
I had always been the good girl, the one who followed all the rules and did everything right. I had big plans for my future – I was going to go to college, travel the world, and have a successful career. But now all of that seems impossible.
How could I raise a baby on my own? How will I even tell my parents?
With trembling hands, I stuffed the pregnancy test back into my purse and unlocked the bathroom door. I stepped out into the crowded hallway, feeling like everyone was staring at me, like they could somehow sense my secret. I made my way through the throngs of students, my mind racing with thoughts and questions. As I walked out of the school gates and into the bright sunshine, I knew that my life would never be the same.
Desperate for a solution, I turned to the internet and discovered abortion. It was a big decision that weighed heavy on my heart, but I knew it was the right choice for me. I went to the hospital and the procedure was a blur, and when I woke up, it was over. I felt relieved and grateful, but also a sense of sadness and loss.
It’s been a few weeks since my abortion and I’m still experiencing some unusual symptoms. The cramps and bleeding were getting worse, and I knew deep down that something was amiss. I couldn’t ignore it any longer, so I went back to the hospital. The waiting room was packed with people and I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. I tried to keep a low profile and calm my nerves, but the room was so quiet that I could hear the receptionist answering phone calls.
I watched as patients came in and out of the doctor’s office, wondering what their stories were. Finally, the nurse called my name, and I stood up, feeling nervous. The doctor came in after a few minutes, and I immediately felt more at ease. She looked at me with a mix of sympathy and concern, and I braced myself for what she was about to say.
“Unfortunately, the procedure wasn’t successful,” she said softly.
I felt my heart drop, but she continued speaking.
” You can choose to try again for an abortion, or you can decide to keep the pregnancy and have the baby.”
I took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. It was a tough decision, and after a few minutes of silence, I finally spoke up.
“I think I want to keep the pregnancy,” I said, surprised at the confidence in my voice.
As I left the office that day, I knew that my life was about to change in a big way. The door to the life I had envisioned for myself may have closed, but a new door to a different, yet beautiful life opened before me. I knew I had to tell my parents; I took a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves as I sat down with my parents.
“Mom, Dad, I need to talk to you about something important,” I began, my voice trembling.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. My parent’s faces froze in shock, and for a moment, no one said anything.
Then my dad spoke, his voice laced with anger. “Pregnant? How could you be so irresponsible?”
“I know, Dad. I’m sorry. I know I messed up,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “But I need your help. I don’t know what to do.”
My mom looked at me, disappointment etched on her face. “We’re disappointed in you, honey. We raised you better than this.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” I repeated, feeling guilty and ashamed.
My dad drew a deep breath and looked at me, his expression softening slightly.
“We’ll figure it out, but you have to understand that there will be consequences for your actions,” he said firmly.
I nodded, knowing that he was right. I messed up, and now I must face the consequences.
As the reality of the situation sunk in, I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside of me – fear, shame, guilt, and uncertainty. But at the same time, I also had a glimmer of hope. My parents may have been disappointed and angry, but they were still my parents. And deep down, I knew they loved me and would do everything in their power to help me through this.
As I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t help but notice how much my body had changed over the past few months. My stomach protruded in a round bump, my hips had widened, and my breasts had swollen to twice their normal size. It was strange to see my body morphing into something new and unfamiliar, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the incredible process that was happening inside me.
But with each passing day, the challenges mounted. I missed out on school work for monthly clinic visits, and the judgmental stares from the strangers seemed to weigh me down. As I sat in class, trying to focus on the lesson, I could feel their eyes on me. Their whispers and hushed tones cut through my thoughts like a knife. It hurt to hear their judgment, but I refused to let it hold me back. No one knows what’s in the pot but the one who stirs it, so I took control of my own destiny. Tough times never last, but tough people do.
The rain was coming down in sheets as I sat in the backseat of the car, clutching my stomach in pain. My water had broken unexpectedly at thirty-two weeks, and I knew that I had to get to the hospital as soon as possible. The car drove speedily through the storm, the windshield wipers working overtime to clear the raindrops.
The contractions grew stronger and more frequent, I knew that my baby was coming whether I was ready or not. As I lay on the hospital bed, the pain of contractions rippled through my body like waves crashing against the shore. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I clenched my teeth and pushed with all my might.
The nurse’s voice rang out, encouraging me to keep going, telling me that I was doing great. But at that moment, all I could focus on was the intense pressure and agony that seemed to be tearing me apart from the inside out. And then, in a rush of relief and disbelief, the baby came out. He was so small, barely weighing over two pounds. The room was filled with the sound of his cries, and I felt a wave of joy and exhaustion wash over me. He had my dark eyes and curly hair.
I looked down at him, amazed and awestruck, and whispered his name to him: Surprise. Surprise isn’t just a symbol of life’s surprises – he’s a testament to the resilience and strength that lies within each one of us. But my joy quickly turned into fear and worry when the nurse told me they had to take my baby to the NICU.
They explained to me that he was born with pneumonia and jaundice. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loneliness. The nurses were always popping in and out of my room to check on me, but it wasn’t the same as having family by my side. I was overjoyed when I heard a knock on my door and saw my mom walk in. At that moment, I realised that family was everything.
The doctor had discharged me, but my little one had to remain in the NICU. I could barely walk; it felt like my whole body had been put through a blender and then twisted inside out. The pain of the stitches was like a constant reminder that my body had been stretched and torn apart to bring this little miracle into the world.
Every morning, I had to wake up early and steam to help the stitches heal. The steam was supposed to help the stitches come out, but it felt like torture, discomfort and the need to escape. Despite all the pain and discomfort that came along with motherhood, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Every day, I took a taxi to the hospital, clutching a bag filled with breast pumps and baby supplies. As the taxi weaved through the city streets, my heart raced with anticipation and fear. Will my baby be okay? Will I be able to handle this?
As I walked down the sterile halls of the NICU, my heart was heavy with anticipation. I watched as he lay in his incubator, hooked up to machines that beeped and whirred. The nurses explained to me that he needed extra support to breathe, and that he was receiving antibiotics and phototherapy for his infections.
She handed me a bottle and a long tube, explaining how to feed him through the pipes. It was not quite the same as nursing, but it was still a precious bonding moment.
As I watched him suckle, I whispered sweet nothings and sang lullabies. I gently stroked his tiny hand and felt my heart swell with love.
It was a strange sensation, but it was worth it to provide my baby with the best possible nutrition. I turned to my faith for strength, praying for my son’s health. I had a second chance at being a mother, and I was determined to make the most of it.
“Hello Surprise,” I whispered, leaning in close to his incubator. “It’s me, your mom. I know I haven’t been the best mom so far, but I promise to make it up to you. “
As if he could understand my words, my baby boy opened his eyes and looked up at me, his little fingers grasping at thin air.
“You know, I never expected to be a mom so young,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “And when I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I thought I wasn’t ready to be a mom.”
I paused, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
“But now that you’re here, I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m sorry I ever thought about doing that to you.”
As if in response, my baby boy let out a tiny coo, a faint smile spreading across his face. At that moment, I knew that everything would be okay. Despite my fears and doubts, my baby boy was here, and he was perfect in every way.
“I love you, little one,” I said, placing my hand on the glass of the incubator.
As I watched my baby boy drift off to sleep, I knew that our journey was just beginning. But with him by my side, I was ready for anything that life would throw our way.
A picture is worth a thousand words and when I spoke to my baby, I felt like I was painting a picture of our life together; one filled with love, laughter, and joy. Motherhood tested my limits, challenged my beliefs, and forced me to confront my fears. Yet, as I sat by his side day after day, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt and sadness. “You reap what you sow.” And I couldn’t help but wonder if my attempts to end the pregnancy had led to my baby’s premature birth. But even in my darkest moments, I knew that I had to dance to the music that I had started.
Through it all, I learnt that life is sacred, a precious gift that must be cherished and protected at all costs. Surprise was a fighter from the start, a true testament to the saying, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”.
The birth of a premature baby after a failed abortion is not only a miracle, but also a beacon of hope and a testament to the miracle of life itself. A testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit. It is a reminder that in the face of adversity, we can find hope and inspiration, and create something truly beautiful out of the most challenging circumstances.
Bringing my baby home was a dream come true, but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. He demanded extra care and love. I had no knowledge or skills on how to take good care of him. I had to balance school with caring for my baby, which meant sacrificing my social life and prioritising my responsibilities. I had to play the role of both a mother and a student, juggling deadlines and feedings. It was not an easy task, but I was determined to make it work.
I knew that I had to persevere for my son’s sake, and that thought gave me the strength to keep going. It taught me the value of responsibility, patience, and unconditional love. I learned to put my son’s needs before my own and to cherish every moment that we spent together.
I had to feed him every two hours and keep a close eye on him for any signs of infection. The countless sleepless nights and endless cries that have become my new reality.
As I lay my baby down to sleep, my mind raced with worry. What if he stops breathing? What if he needs me and I don’t listen to him? I couldn’t help but stayed awake, listening intently for any sound that might signal his distress. But then I investigated his big, curious eyes, and I was reminded of the incredible bond that we shared.
Every day was a rollercoaster ride of emotions. One minute, my heart swelled with love and pride as I watched my little one hit a new milestone. Seeing him smile and hearing his soft coos, feeling his tiny hand grasp my finger – these moments made it all worth it. Watching him grow and learn was like witnessing a miracle each day. The journey of a miracle baby born after a failed abortion was one filled with both challenges and hope. It was a reminder of the resilience and strength of the human spirit, and the power of love and determination in the face of adversity.
________________
PUBLISH’D AFRIKA Magazine Facebook Short Story Competition is funded by the National Arts Council, Department of Sport, Arts and Culture and Presidential Employment Stimulus Programme 3
PUBLISH'D AFRIKA 
Great 👍
LikeLike