Pregnancy had a way of changing everything, yet Pearl felt blessed beyond words. As she began her antenatal visits, she marveled at the tiny life growing inside her, each flutter of movement a reminder of love and hope. Her body changed, her emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides, but through it all, he was unwavering—her constant, her anchor.
He treated her with care that sometimes made her heart ache. He would insist on carrying her bags, rub her feet after long days, and whisper words of encouragement when she felt anxious about her health or the baby's. "Our little one is going to be amazing," he would say, his hand resting gently on her belly. "And so are you."
Even on days when money was scarce, when they barely had enough to feed themselves properly, or when the tiny one-room apartment felt suffocating with the weight of their dreams, their love carried them through. Pearl remembered the nights when they shared a single plate of jollof rice, laughing and joking as if they were feasting at a grand table. Every small meal, every shared laugh, felt like an affirmation of something bigger than the physical hardships they endured: their love.
They spent hours talking about the future, imagining the first days with their child, and dreaming of the life they wanted to build together. He would run his fingers along her arm as they planned names, nursery colors, and first birthdays. Pearl felt seen, cherished, and wanted in ways she had never known. The joy of expecting their first child together made the small struggles insignificant.
Some days, the reality of their modest living situation hit hard. There were mornings when they worried if they would have enough to eat, evenings when their small apartment felt too cramped, nights when sleep came fitfully with the worry of bills, rent, and groceries. Yet, even in these moments, their love never wavered. He would pull her close, whispering, "We have each other. That's enough. We'll figure it out." And for those few words, Pearl believed it truly was enough.
She cherished the way he smiled at her belly, the way he hummed lullabies before sleep, the gentle way he talked about the baby as if it were already a part of their lives. His joy was infectious, and Pearl found herself floating in the warmth of it, forgetting the scarcity, the cramped space, and the fatigue that came with pregnancy.
Through the ups and downs, Pearl realized that love had a quiet strength. It could survive small apartments, thin wallets, sleepless nights, and endless worry. In those days, despite the challenges, she felt untouchable. She was loved, she was giving life, and she was part of something that no scarcity or hardship could diminish.
And so, Pearl carried on—walking to her antenatal visits with pride, smiling through the little struggles, and holding close the man who had promised her the world. In the quiet moments, when the sun dipped behind Lagos rooftops, she would lay her hand on her belly and whisper, "We are going to be okay. We are going to be okay together."