My Little Sunshine

loud in the morning, before the noise of the city was pure joy for her. And every time the baby kicked she imagined it's sucking its thumb and hearing every word.

"Any minute now, your father will get up and storm out of the guest bedroom seeing red. But don't worry he'll come around" she said to her baby

Her forehead was damp from her ablution and she dabbed at it as she swayed to and fro on the rocking chair that had been a gift from Kaka. She had no chores or errands to run today so she planned to watch a birthing video. Amaka had suggested it as a joke but the idea really took hold for her and as punishment/reward she insisted her best friend suffer/marvel through nature's greatest miracles. Nabila foresaw a lot of open mouth gaping in her afternoon. Her baby nudged harder

"You better love sports with all the inconvenience you are causing Mommy" she said

The kicking got harder and tighter, so much so that she gasped. It felt like a dagger was been repeatedly buried in her flesh. It was searing and hot. The novel fell from her hands and her fingers stared to tremble. Nabila ran her hands down her sides, trying to soothe her baby back to rest but to no avail. She tried to stand up, hopefully rebalance the pressure or whatever but the frequency of the jabs in her lower abdomen caused her to arch her back then bend. Pain was contorting her body. Something was not right, she could feel it. It was too soon to be having contractions. She had read every book there was and it was not supposed to feel like this, was it? Nabila wasn't one to cry wolf so perhaps this was something that would soon pass. A slightly higher level of discomfort was all it was...mind over matter she told herself. It did not help, pain came in fast doses now and soon her hands were clutching at her neck and face, pulling at her hair, squeezing her knees for support. She didn't know what was happening to her. She was shaking now and so scared. Nabila wanted her mother. Amaka could hold her hand and tell her it was all expected, normal procedure in labour.

There was clenching of her teeth, a swift pain in her ribs caused her to cry out in agony. Tears streamed down her face, she was breathing through her mouth.

"Jamal" she screamed. It came out a strained whisper. "Jamal" she tried again, this time she could barely hear it. Her cries for help had no volume, she was suffering in isolation. She needed help, she needed Jamal

Nabila started to stumble in the direction of the guest bedroom, hanging on to the wall for support, she called his name, but her lips trembled too much to release sound. The pain made her crouch, then crawl, still she kept moving in the direction of help. She suddenly felt very warm, like heat was expanding her body, as sudden as the heat was there, there was cold, in great waves. Each step was torture, her nerves were on fire, her knees were jittery and it felt like at any moment she would tip over sideways and be unable to get up. That was her major fear, not being able to move, unable to get to her husband and tell him their baby was in trouble. The door was in front of her now and Nabila hit the wood with palms and feet. She heard the locks turn; she saw Jamal's face, and muttered something before falling on him.

Nabila Mujahid's miscarriage was confirmed at 6.50am that Tuesday morning by her obstetrician Dr.Mahdi in the female ward of National Hospital Abuja. It was a boy and she would have named him Danjuma, after Baba.