I Am Saintilia!!

My name is Saintilia. But everyone called me TiTi. Who could have predicted, this day would come, where I would be confined to my bed, because of a complicated pregnancy fraught with uncertainty? Seven months of hope and love have nestled within me, a testament to my strength and resilience. Yet, with each passing day, the fragility of my own body reminds me of the delicate dance between life and reality. To ensure the safe arrival of this precious baby, I must remain confined to this bed for the remaining days. Each moment feels like an eternity, as I grapple with a blend of hope, fear, and unwavering determination.

My heart yearns for the day when this confinement will yield a treasure beyond measure. Becoming a mother was a challenging and arduous journey for me, filled with numerous trials and tribulations. Despite the hardships, I found happiness in the end. Throughout the years, I faced countless obstacles, from enduring hardships to grappling with disappointment, deceit, lies, and heartbreak. The emotional and mental anguish I experienced demanded immense strength and determination to survive.

This journey taught me invaluable lessons about myself. I realized that I possess the remarkable ability to compartmentalize, allowing me to navigate through difficult situations without losing sight of my ultimate goal. Additionally, I learned how to adapt to diverse and challenging circumstances, demonstrating my resilience in the face of adversity. I held onto the belief deep within my heart that a lifetime of happiness awaited me.

Sitting on the bench in front of the mirror, admiring the features of my reflection staring back at me. My eyes traced the small lines, each one telling a story of tears, and countless experiences that had shaped my journey. Evidence of the wisdom I had gained over the years. Etched with memories and emotions that had molded me into the person I had become. My mind was filled with anticipation, and I was looking forward to what the future held for me.

The depth of my eyes captivated me. I could see a glimmer of vulnerability and strength entangled, a testament to the resilience I had developed. Since childhood, I've been told, over and over, how pretty I was. But as a child I did not understand what it meant to be pretty. My fingers lightly brushed the strands of black hair that cascaded down my shoulders, reminding me of the time my father attempted to braid my hair. I smiled a little. My life had both challenges and joys. I had learned to embrace them, for they were symbols of my journey through the tapestry of existence.

Looking intensely in the mirror, inspecting the silhouette of my face; I understood why having a face like mine was considered pretty. the ambitions and aspirations that once seemed so far away, and yet, here I was, having lived through so much. Life had taken me on unexpected detours, and I had learned to navigate through them with grace and determination.

As I stood there looking at my features, a storm of thoughts swirled in my mind and made me wonder what it would have been like to have Paulette around. And the feeling of having a mother growing up, would certainly have lessened my suffering during my younger years. At that moment, well on my way to become a mother, I really wished I knew more About her.

My Father Jonas used to always say that people were just jealous, because his baby girl was the prettiest in the entire village. Thinking back of what he said, perhaps there was some truth to his sentiment. And made me realize those words were embedded deep in me, and had given me the confidence I needed to survive the circumstances of life.

"You look just like your mother."

According to the older villagers who knew Paulette, she was the embodiment of elegance and grace. Her sharp chestnut eyes, her smile that radiated warmth and kindness. I traced the lines of my face, comparing them to the fading photographs that I kept from Jonas. Yet, I couldn't discern any comparison, and I began to wonder if the tale was nothing more than a myth.

We were both tall, slim, curvy, and busty. Was it what they meant? There was no question that I was her daughter, I only wished she had lived long enough for me to have known her. I felt a mix of sadness and acceptance, realizing that no matter what I couldn't long for something I never had. I had been influenced by many women throughout my thirty years, and Victoria was the only one who wanted to be my mother.

She understood me because she herself grew up without a mother.

In retrospect, Paulette's death was shrouded in silence, even Jonas avoided discussing it, making it feel like a forbidden secret. At that time, I was too young to inquire about the details, and Jonas believed it unnecessary to share them, assuring me that Paulette loved me no matter what. I walked with a newfound sense of pride, knowing that I carried not only my mother's physical traits but also the essence of her spirit. In the mirror, I saw not just my reflection, but a legacy of strength, and the unbreakable thread of love that connected me to all the women that played a role in my life bringing me to the age of thirty.

I could not reminisce on the years past simply because of all the hardship I had to endure. Then, as a child, I was picked on a lot because of my hair which was long and often braided, and also kept in a bun that was easier to manage. At least, that's what I thought was the reason; since my hair always ended up at the hand of someone's fingers being pulled, while cursing me for no reason.

I remembered one incident, where I was sitting in front of a classmate during a school dance. Jonas had asked our neighbor Adeline to fix my hair. So there was absolutely no reason for my hair to annoy anyone. My classmate Ellie and I were friends, I thought. But out of nowhere, she began pulling on my hair, and called on the others to join in. Ever since, making friends has not been easy. I kept myself distant and alone for years.

I was also teased as much, for my straight nose, bright eyes, and long lashes. I did not look like the other kids in the neighborhood, therefore I became the target of kids as well as adults. My young life had become unbearable so Jonas decided to ask Celia to be my teacher in her spare time so that I didn't have to be around the other kids.

After Jonas's unexpected passing, the weight of my loneliness became painfully apparent. For too long, I had chosen to be friendless, believing there was nothing wrong with navigating life in solitude. People often compared my courage to a soaring kite, whatever that meant.

Throughout my thirty years of existence, I faced numerous unpleasant experiences. Although I always yearned for love, I couldn't define it until I met Steven—the kind of man I didn't know existed until I turned eighteen. He later became my husband, a decision I made the moment I laid eyes on him. Yet, my past had taught me that love was a complicated and messy affair. My aunt Tina even deemed it a complete waste of time. Perhaps she could be right, but the future remained uncertain, and I had no way of knowing what lay ahead.

****************

It was late in the afternoon. The silence was oppressive, and my thoughts were heavy and despondent. I was restless and wanted to move around a little. So I moved to the seat by the window, And for no particular reason I kept thinking of my past and wondered what became of Rose. I have been thinking about her a lot lately. It took me a long time to forgive her., but my life without her, could not have been what it was now.

I turned my head when I heard the door open. It was my husband walking towards me

"Are you comfortable?" He asked me,

I shook my head 'yes' indicating I was comfortable. I was wearing a white shirt with matching shorts; big enough to fit my seven months belly. Our eyes met, I was too much in a daze to acknowledge his smile.

“Sweetheart what's wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing. I am okay." I responded almost in a whisper..

"You say nothing but you look sad." He said, standing much closer. "Don’t worry, I promise we'll find her.”

At that point, I had already turned my attention back to the window; as if observing something special outside. The soft glow illuminated the garden, revealing flowers that seemed to hold secrets of their own. The love I felt for him surpassed any other, and I marveled at my sheer luck to be alive and experiencing such intense emotions.

Loving him was a boundless affection I never thought possible. I relished the freedom to express myself without constraints, an unimaginable joy. Steven often likened me to a Nubian Goddess, claiming I was made solely for him, perhaps his way of expressing my beauty.

Adoring him was effortless; he was a simple man who embraced life's pleasures without taking anything for granted. The ease with which love flowed between us made every moment a cherished one.

He was standing behind me wrapped his arms around my belly. He then kissed the back of my neck sending shivers through my body. It's been a while since we had intimacy. I felt very warm in his embrace. But I could not be over-stimulated. I wanted him so desperately but it was not safe for the baby.

The man could always tell what I was thinking. Almost as if he could read my mind. I turned to face him with a smile, expressing how grateful I was.

With my long fingers, I rummage through his blonde hair, clearing away the strands blocking his eye. As we looked into each other's eyes, I felt a sense of security that I never felt before. His soft hands cupping my face made me feel wanted. When he whispered how beautiful I was. I couldn't control myself, so I kissed him.

Deep within me I knew this man loved me and would do anything for me.

He responded passionately with his warm tongue inside my mouth. We Kissed so hard and yet tender; and at that moment, only the two of us existed. I could feel his body tense when he hugged me. We stood there kissing for what seemed an eternity.

"I love you so much." He whispered when I touched him. He was aroused. We kissed again with much more intensity this time. I moved my hand slowly inside his pajama pants. I could feel his body trembling; He wanted me desperately, but he was considerate. Slowly, my hand reached his man berries and I gave them a little squeeze.

"Hmm woman, what are you doing to me?" He managed between kisses.

It was not a question that required an answer. I had him completely under my control. My fingers continued chasing his berries, and the more I played with them, the harder he kissed me. I was filled with enough excitement to be satisfied. My hand left his berries, and took control of his stick. With the other hand I pulled the strings of his pants to loosen them till they fell to the ground. Then I brought my hand to the back of his neck and softly caressed him.

We kept on kissing till we both lost our senses. I felt intoxicated holding his stiff, while my body was screaming for a taste but it was too risky. knowing the fact that I wanted him so bad, and couldn't have him excited me even more. For what seemed a while, my hand was moving vigorously making him even harder. I could tell he was close because of the intensity of his tongue inside my mouth. Then shortly after, he let out a trembling sound; he had reached his apex.

"No fair," he said, as he rested his head on my shoulder.

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked. He smiled, and pecked my neck.

"I love you" he said, kissing me.

A while later, after dinner. I managed to convince him to join me in the shower. At first he protested, knowing I would be in there for at least an hour. Why spend that long in the shower when he could be doing something more productive was his sentiment. Of course that was purely Steven. But the man could never say no to me no matter what I asked.

The bathroom was embellished with marble and gold accents, arousing a sense of opulence and sophistication. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, creating an inviting atmosphere that beckoned the tired soul to step into its comforting embrace.

As the water was turned on, the showerhead released a cascade of soothing hot water droplets, each one infused with a delicate fragrance of soothing lavender and jasmine. The steam began to rise, enveloping the shower in a misty cocoon that wrapped around us like a gentle hug. The shower walls were fitted with multiple shower jets, allowing the water to envelop our bodies from every angle, massaging away tension and stress.

I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth and comfort of the shower to caress my skin.

To my surprise, Steven spent the entire time with me. Taking a long hot shower was my enjoyment since I've been confined to my bed. Steven had a special bench made for me so that I wouldn't be on my feet during that time. We washed each other's body and talked about our baby and our future.

In the days to follow, he made sure that he took time to accompany me in the shower. And for the first time, I could tell that Stephen eventually began to enjoy himself, so long I was in there with him. One evening after showering, It was still early so we sat in the lounge area in our bedroom. I had some tea made for us. We each grabbed a book and sat across each other, sipping our tea. I was mesmerized by how good looking my husband was.

Our eyes met, looking slightly above the rims of the fancy white cups that we held between our lips. He seemed anxious; I couldn't tell what he was thinking about. Perhaps, he was scared that something could happen to me and the baby during birth. I tried my best to reassure him that his wife, and baby were going to be just fine. With those bright blue eyes Staring ba

ck at me, I gave him a wink , and that seemed to ease the anxious look on his face.