Today was not such a good day. It started on a high note with me talking to Dolf and generally being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and love. I had plans to go shopping for baby stuff, after all it’s 20 weeks already, and maternity wear, because nothing seems to fit anymore.
On the very traffic-congested streets of Lagos, I saw a copy of the True Love magazine for December. As is my usual practice I bought it, only for my attention to be drawn to an article as I skimmed through. IT was an article about an HIV positive lady who died from the disease despite fighting her best. She spoke of how difficult it is/was to plan for/have children when you have the disease, and so many other pregnancy/motherhood related issues.
For me, buying baby stuff was just out of the question. I actually wished for a miscarriage. What will I do if my baby comes into this world HIV positive? Why would I do that to another innocent being? Why the hell did I sleep with the idiot that fathered this child? Am I sure of what I am doing? Even my mother doesn’t know that I am HIV positive. How will she feel when I finally tell her that I am having a CS and that I cannot breastfeed my child because I do not want to transfer my virus, my status? And what becomes of the man I care about after? What if he waits for me, and askes me to marry him? These are the thoughts that have been whirling in my head throughout today.
Coincidentally, I have run out of ARV drugs and my doctor is having a tough time procuring some. God seems to have pushed me aside, because when I thought it could not get any worse, things went terribly downhill.