Baby Can I Upgrade You?

23. Sound Advice

Imani

"Awww, this is so cute, Nini!" Candice coos at the giant blue teddy bear Jaden sent to my house today. 

I roll my eyes at her and dismiss her with the flick of my wrist. "Throw it away!" I command.

"What? No!" She looks at me like I've grown a second head.

"Fine, take it. Just get it out of my house." I suck my teeth and go back to reading the report on my laptop.

"Imani, come on! The guy is trying. At least return one of his million phone calls." Candi looks at me with those puppy dog eyes, but I just avert my eyes so I can't fall into their trap.

"No, Candice! You can go now, and take that thing with you," I snap at her and point to the door with a stern face, making it clear this is the end of the discussion. She sucks her teeth at me, dropping the oversized toy on the floor and struts away in a huff.

Good riddance! I ignore her dramatic exit and go back to reading the report Marcel sent me. This is the only way we communicate now. His ass is on punishment for meddling in my affairs and bringing Jaden back into my life. Speaking of Jaden, he has been sending all sorts of gifts and soppy cards to my house for the past week. Apparently, he's sorry. The large barbecue chicken pizza with "I'm sorry" written in barbecue sauce was the best apology gift thus far, but still not enough to make me forgive him. Does he really think he can buy my forgiveness with food and stuffed animals? He's got another thing coming! "Munchie and I don't need him. Right, big boy?" I ask my little man. He doesn't stir like he usually does, and my lip falls into a small frown.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I look up at my front door, and my frown deepens. I'm not expecting any visitors. Who could this be? Oh please, don't let it be Jaden! I send a silent prayer up as I struggle off of the couch and waddle my way to the door. I peek through the peephole, and I'm relieved to see my grandmother on my doorstep. 

I quickly open the door with a smile on my face. "Hello, Gogo. I didn't know you were coming." I give her a quick hug and usher her into the house.

"I went to see my sister, Thoko, and I told her about lendaba yakho (your situation), and she gave me lo muti (this medicine) for you. She says it'll help fortify your pregnancy." Gogo pulls out various bags of herbs and holds them out to me. My gog'Thoko is a sangoma (traditional healer), and my gogo, although a devout Christian, always turns to her in times of need. 

I take the herbal remedies from her and drop them on the kitchen counter. "Thank you. I'll call her to say thank you later. Would you like anything to drink?" I call out to her from the chef’s nook.

"Yes, but I'll get it. Come sit down and rest. I'll make your first dose." Gogo joins me in the kitchen and shoos me out. I make my way back onto the couch and put my feet up, changing the channel to the gospel music channel for her. I hear Gogo shuffling about and singing along softly to the choral music, and it brings a smile to my face. This reminds me of when I would spend school holidays with her and she'd spoil me rotten with all my favorite traditional foods. My Gogo makes the best sweet dombolo in the world! Just thinking about it makes my mouth water, but I push back the craving. I have to keep my weight gain under control so as not to further increase the fragility of this high-risk pregnancy.  

"Bamba (Take)." Gogo suddenly appears next to me making me jump. I take the piping hot brew in the cup she offers, and I take a whiff. It's not so bad, better than anything Candi ever forced down my throat. I blow on the hot liquid while Gogo takes a seat by my feet with her cup of sweet, milky rooibos tea. We sit in silence sipping on our respective hot beverages. 

"So zibuyaphi lezinto (where do these things come from)?" she breaks the silence with her question, gesturing around the room at Jaden's many scattered gifts.

I clear my throat awkwardly and suddenly become very interested in the brown liquid in my cup. "Kubaba womtwana (the child's father)," I mumble out reluctantly.

"Hawu kuhle loko (that's great)! He's finally stepping up. When do we get to meet the young man?" she speaks enthusiastically, and it completely takes me by surprise. 

"I don't know, Gogo. He's just been sending these gifts, but I don't plan on letting him back into our lives. I won't let him hurt my child with his disappearing acts!" I get so frustrated and angry with each word that I almost break the cup in my hands as I slam it down on the coffee table.

"Wazikanjani (How do you know) that he won't stick around?" she questions me incredulously. 

I blow out an angry breath, reigning in my anger before I speak disrespectfully. Once I'm composed, I address her again. "Gogo, he's already done it once before. How can you defend him? I can't knowingly allow him back just for him to scar my child with abandonment. I won't allow it!" I speak passionately, just barely holding onto my anger.

"Imani, angali (I'm not denying) that he hurt you. It's terrible what he did, but don't let your pain cloud your judgment. He made a mistake and seems to be remorseful." She holds open one of the soppy apology cards Jaden has written me. "My child, being a mother means to be selfless. Though your heart is hurting, you can't let that stand in the way of your child having his father in his life." She reaches out her age weathered hand and squeezes my youthful one. That action opens the floodgates, and a small sob escapes my lips as the tears begin to flow. "Shhh...I know it's hard, nana, but you need to be strong for your child. You know what a great childhood you've had with your father. I'm sure you want that for your son too. If this young man is as remorseful as he says he is, only good things can come from this. Wena nomtwana (you and the child) deserve the chance at a complete family." I take in her heavy words, and I cry harder. She's given me some sound but very hard advice.

I don't want to deny my child his father, but I'm also so scared for him to be hurt by Jaden as I have. Abandonment is a type of hurt that chips at your confidence and self-worth. It makes you question yourself. Why weren't you enough? Why weren't you good enough for them to stay? What did you do wrong? What could you have done to make them stay? These are the sort questions I don't want my child to ever ask himself. I also can't deny the strong points of Gogo's argument. I do want my son to have a dad as great as mine. I would love a complete family unit, but I don't think my heart will ever open up to Jaden again. I'm just so confused!

But everyone deserves a second chance, right?