A laboring experience

I've had morning sickness, headaches, chest pains, hot flashes and strange cravings for a few weeks.  No, I'm not pregnant.

CAPE TOWN, South Africa, August 7, 2012 - I’ve been sick for a couple of weeks. Symptoms are nausea (only in the morning), headaches, chest pains, hot flushes and strange cravings.  

I know what you’re thinking. No, I’m not pregnant.
I ignored the symptoms, but after the second week, it was becoming almost impossible to live. So I eventually went to see my doctor.
“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” she asked.

No, I’m not pregnant.

I took the medication for a week but the symptoms got worse. The headaches became stronger and the nausea paralyzing. Stomach cramps also decided to come to the party. Frustration set in and I began experiencing extreme mood swings. Happy the one second, weeping the next.
Finally one night I vomited myself all the way to hospital. I arrived at Vincent Pallotti Medi Centre at 9.48pm.
“And you aren’t pregnant, are you?” the nurse asked as she took my blood pressure.
I watched my blood pressure reading slowly spike up.

No, I’m not pregnant.

I sat in the ward waiting for the doctor and eavesdropping on the nearby nurse’s conversation.
“I wonder who the father is.”
“She’s probably wondering the same thing.”
“You know how girls of today are…”

I’m not pregnant!

Or am I? Doubt began to slowly creep in and shatter my security. Why am I experiencing all these symptoms with seemingly no cure? Maybe the world is telling me what I should already know.  I’m not pregnant, am I? Maybe I am pregnant.
But how?
I tried to think back to an event that might have pollinated my seeds. Nothing.
Well, except that one time Aunty Sandra kissed me on the lips and I accidentally got a brush of tongue…
Wait a minute what am I thinking? It’s not possible.

I’m not pregnant.

What I am however is still sick and nauseas. And hungry. Some bacon would do…with some avocado and honey on top. Yum.


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Sisi Lwandle

Sisi Lwandle is a journalist, a sister, a daughter and a South African. She loves God, people, telling stories and having cereal for dinner.

She loves music and is a struggling musician. By struggling she means she can't play much more than a few feeble strums on the acoustic guitar.

She spent a few years as a medic, and even lesser years in a City jail (during visiting hours). She hates having to describe herself in less than 1000 words. 

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