Entry one: Anuli ( ahn-you-lee) -Happiness
Entry one:
Anuli ( ahn-you-lee)

-Happiness sad stories
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anulika_
anulika_ A feministic journal
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
In the first entry of Tales from Anulika, a feministic journal,
Anulika is faced with an unusual realization after the birth of her daughter.

Entry one: Anuli ( ahn-you-lee) -Happiness

PUSH... The midwife yelled during my baby’s delivery. It amazes me how I heard Dr. Eze and the midwives commanding me to push, despite my screaming. My husband Kola joked about how our baby’s birth reminded him of a Nigerian music concert, with Dr. Eze as the headliner, and I was the audience.

Baby Anuli was born on the first day of October 2014; my husband and I decided to name her Anuli, after me, which means "happiness" in my language. Kola and I waited six years for a child, and despite the odds, she was finally here.

Unlike most stories of infertility, my mother-in-law was not evil, neither was she pressuring me for a grandchild, with her, it was nothing short of love and support. Regardless of this, I still wallowed in thoughts of self-guilt, because I was failing my husband.

Growing up, my mother always told me that birthing my siblings and me was her greatest achievement. These were the words that rang in my head whenever a failed pregnancy test came in; when would I achieve my greatness?

When I saw my baby girl for the first time, I waited for a rush of that greatness my mother spoke about to overwhelm me, but I got nothing, not even after my daughter was placed in my arms.

Our first night home with the baby was one of the worst days of my life; it was as though baby Anuli had waged war against my sanity. she tactfully waited for my eyes to close before screaming for attention.

The next day, I woke up feeling like shit, Kola was already taking a shower, so I went to the guest bathroom for a quick shower, I took my phone with me, and while I waited for the water to get hot, I rang my older sister who at that time had three kids;

“Sis, good morning,” I said. “Nwanne m, Kedu maka annuli m,” she replied. “Sister, she makes me so sad, is that normal?” I asked, biting my nails, and hoping for reassurance;

“O wen otuo di o, check e Kwa,” she replied. “I’ll call you later, I’m getting ready for work,

“ nndo,”

the line went dead.

Filled with guilt, I wept.

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