SOME OTHER TIME IN APRIL

‘Dr. Bob, this is real malaria’ I told the doctor as I took a seat in his tiny, neat office.

I have never quite understood why we were raised to know that any discomfort characterized by joint pains, fever and general body weakness had to be malaria. The times and tides have changed today, it has to be an infection of sorts, whether bacterial, viral or whichever form; one will not escape the diagnosis of ‘infection.’ This vague diagnosis is more painful than the disease itself, especially if you are pursuing medication for a toddler.

‘But you know that before I give you malaria medication I have to first confirm if indeed it’s the one disturbing you.’ Dr. Bob smiled as he wrote my laboratory referral notes. ‘I have also requested for an HCG test, just to be sure of what we are treating.’ he added.

I was still nursing my two little boys, aged 2 and eleven months then, pregnancy could not be a possible ailment for me as insinuated by Dr. Bob.

During the previous pregnancy episodes that had come one after another with barely no time for me to recover from the pressures that come with pregnancy and lactation, I had learnt that an HCG test is simply a pregnancy test. I have never quite understood why doctors want to complicate even the would-be simple issues of life, from their handwriting to the terminologies they use.

I shut the door behind me and proceeded to the lab. Half an hour later, my results were out.

‘Prim, you don’t have malaria.’ Dr. Bob calmly told me.

‘I don’t have what? Then what do I have?’ I asked, venting the anger of my weak body on the doctor.

Why would my body subject me to unexplained discomfort, and no disease is diagnosed?

‘You are pregnant.’ he announced.

If I said I remember how I felt, I would be lying. Why would God let me go through this again? Had he forgotten that precisely eleven months back He had blessed me with a baby boy? Had he forgotten that it was a near death experience? Had he forgotten that there was another baby that had just made two? How did he expect me to pull through? Did He not know that I had just enrolled for my graduate studies?

I moved out of the doctor’s room, dragging my feet that seemed not to want to take another step.

I sent hubby a message, who was working away from home then. I didn’t know what to expect from him. His response was more than I asked for. It is then that he made the craziest decision of resigning his job. He sat home, nursed the two little men and became my chauffeur to work and class.

The Lord taught me to live one day at a time. Hubby was close by, meeting all my craving needs and persevering the mood swings. Towards delivery, I asked my friend Nicole Nabbanja Mwesigwa to shop for the coming baby. For the record I did not know what baby I was carrying. My ever ambitious friend Nicole shopped for a baby girl. I regretted why I had entrusted her with my hard earned legal tender for this task. I silently prayed for patience, waiting to give her a piece of my mind in case the baby turns out not to be a girl. I actually contemplated asking for a refund if her ambitions did not come to fruition.

On April 24, 2015, Dr. Peter, my gynecologist, happily announced ‘It’s a baby girl!’

I literally nearly jumped off the operation table. I was overjoyed. I recalled that precisely three years back in April, I had delivered my first child. Some other time in April, there I was with a beautiful girl. Amara Deborah makes three today. It’s been quite a journey mothering a girl.

Each day you are reminder to me of God’s faithfulness. May I live long enough with my Tumuramye Dickson to see your children’s children. Happy 3 Amara!

                                        ©Prim K. Tumuramye

                                           24^th April 2018

Prim is a Christian, wife, mother and Communications Specialist at Compassion International. She is passionate about reading, writing, youth mentorship and intentional parenting.