Chapter 3: Desperate for a hug
As always I am the first to get back from work. I freshen up and get about making dinner while humming to some old golden hymns I have on the DVD player. Tomorrow is my 6th anniversary as a married wife. I know what Dylan will do; have his office secretary buy me flowers and a bag. These will probably be delivered with a note confessing his undying love for me and an apology because he can’t excuse himself from work.
I love my husband, I love the hardworking man that he is and I certainly do not mind that he makes enough to guarantee that we live comfortably. I just can’t get used to the workaholic he is turning out to be, sometimes I think he is avoiding me. We have been trying for a baby for 4 years now, I get the vibe he has given up, which scares me.
What relevance do I have as a wife if I cannot create a family? All Dylan cares for now is his work, nothing else, not even God. Throughout the years of our courtship and first years in marriage, he was so dedicated to serving God, one of the reasons I was convinced he was the right man to marry.
He hasn’t been to church in 3 months straight, previously he would show up at least once a month. I no longer can say ‘He has a project he is working on’, whenever someone asks why they are seeing less and less of him at church. I almost stopped going to church myself, the gossip had become too apparent.
I decided against this once I realized church and serving where the things still keeping me close to God and I know I need Him, even with the belief that He could be doing better for my life, He remains my only hope. I once tried to confide in mhama about how I felt Dylan was being distant, she said to me ‘Tanya you should know by now, men will do what they want, at least you’re married and being taken care of, be content and don’t go looking for anything more like I did. Stay put’.
The conversation left me feeling small and greedy for wanting to be happy in my marriage. Now whenever I see mhama, I put on my big girl smile and act like the happiest person alive. My marriage is beginning to look like my parents’ , just that instead of constant fights, Dylan and me choose silence.
We need to have a conversation, maybe if we talk everything will work out. This thought energizes me as I finish cleaning up. When Dylan gets here, we will talk. I think of hoe best to initiate the conversation.
‘Babe…’ I say as I move my food around , sitting across from my husband. ‘Yes Tanya?’, Dylan says looking up from his laptop. ‘I have been thinking, we are turning 6 tomorrow and I was just reflecting, I realize that we have changed a lot.’
He puts down his cutlery, ‘Good or bad change?’
‘I’m not sure babe, I might be overreacting…’
‘Just say what you want to Tanya’, he sounds impatient.
‘I mean you seem distant Dee, you’re always at work , if you are here you’re on your laptop, I feel invisible. Is it because we’ve been trying for so long?’
He inhales sharply at the last statement, he slowly shuts his laptop as he chews, all the time looking straight into my eyes.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say Tanya.’
‘Tell me the truth, start there.’
He opens his mouth, closes it and then starts to say something again.
‘You know how much I was looking forward to having little boys to call my own. It’s just been stressful, having to deal with it all, I trying to handle this the best way I can’
‘Why are you saying “was looking forward to” , we can still try babe’, I plead.
He looks at me with an agonized face.
‘Tanya do you think there’s still a chance? You refuse to go see a doctor, it’s been 4 years! Why do I have a feeling you’re blaming this on me? If you would at least see a doctor, I am not even sure this is as important to you as it is to me. Are we even on the same page?’
His words feel like a cold hand squeezing my heart.
‘Do I need to apologize again for a mistake I made when I was young?’
I ask with a small voice.
‘No , no, do not play the victim card Tanya, you want real talk, let’s talk. Why won’t you see a specialist?’
‘Because,’ I choke, ‘Because I know they will just tell me all this is my fault and I am not ready to hear that Dee, I am not ready.’
‘So then how we will know how much damage the abortion made if you won’t sacrifice your ego for this? What then do you want me to say? That I am not hurting? That I do wish for a child every waking moment? That my father is not telling me to find someone else who can give me kids? Are those the lies you would have me tell you Tanya? What do you want me to do?’
Each word is suffocating me as I cry softly, he sits for a few more seconds, at my lack of response, he picks up his laptop and storms off. I sit at the table, needing a hug so bad I start dialing my Pastor’s number.
‘Mai Moyo’…it’s not the warm and friendly voice I was expecting to hear at the other end of the call.
‘Hello, is that mhama? How are you? ‘
‘I’m alright Mai Moyo, is everything okay, why are you calling this late?’
‘Umm I need to speak to Pastor mhama, is he around ?’
‘Iiiii nhai vaskana at this hour? Do you think it’s appropriate? A married woman calling a married man? We don’t want things that will spark gossip in the church’
I go blank for a minute, not knowing how to feel.
She goes on ,’Can I take a message so he calls tomorrow…no, you can call in the morning, but not too early yea?’
‘It’s alright mhama, I will call tomorrow.’
‘Good dear.’
Silence.
I can barely feel my heart beating, it’s weak. I stare at the wall, still desperate for a hug.
