When my sister told me that she was pregnant last September, I was pretty sure she was lying. It’s hard to trust any one of my siblings – We all have a cruel sense of humor and every year we engage in a 9 month long marathon of practical jokery that we have termed “April Toq”. It starts April 2nd and ends on December 30th. We’ve “toq-ed” each other on faked accidents, lost limbs, pregnancies, evictions and phone calls from our dreaded mother (shudder). So up until she actually had this mythical baby this past Tuesday, I still had doubts about her pregnancy. Even my husband didn’t believe her…that’s how strong of a toq-er she is. Last night, Skype eliminated our dubiousness and we watched Aiden Christopher slumber peacefully in his plastic hospital issued crib while we chatted with my exhausted sister. I watched her ravenously consume some jello/pudding. She hadn’t eaten in 2 days.
Why had she not eaten in 2 days you ask? Ahhh! Let me tell you why! Because my new nephew laid the smack down on her birth canal and avenged me for years of his mother’s trickery. I’m just going to go on record and say that I think “Aiden” is a gay name, which is why I will only refer to my new nephew as “Roq”. That he chose to wait to be born on a Tuesday just like his beloved auntie shows that we share a bond and are united in our desire to thwart and destroy Adwoa’s every ambition.
I have not spoken to Roq yet, but telekinesis tells me how he chose to make his entry into the world. Journey with me into the mind of a new born as he describes his birth day(s):
On May 24th at 5:30 am, I broke Adwoa’s water. And it was not the gushing, bursting of waters they portray in the movies…it was a small puncture; Just enough to get her out of bed and get her attention. I listened with amusement as she called Auntie Malaka
“Malaka,” she said. “I think my water just broke.”
“Ok. Well, go to the bathroom, get a rag and wipe yourself to see if you peed on yourself or if this liquid is clear.”
“It’s clear,” said my mother.
Auntie Malaka instructed her to get her overnight bag and get to the hospital immediately.
“I have to take a dump!” my mother whined.
“Listen here, Adwoa. The same muscles you’re going to use to take a dump are the same ones you’re going to use to push the baby out. If you sit on that toilet and push, you might deliver your son head first into a porcelain a pile of poo. Is that how you want to give birth to your first child? Get to the hospital now. The baby needs fluid to live. He can’t breathe amniotic vapors/dust.”
Heeding my benevolent Auntie’s advice, my mother and her troll-mate (my father, Chris) rushed off to the hospital. For what, I don’t know. I wasn’t going anywhere.
When they got to the hospital the nurses busily hooked her up to IV’s and waited for some action to happen. Nuthin’. A few hours later, Doogie Howser M.D. came in to break the rest of the water to see if that would encourage me to come out. Sure, I was sitting head down in her birth canal, putting pressure on her back and waist, but I had a point to prove. I am the man of this house. I own this womb. And there was nothing those sissies on the outside could do about it. I’m Roq Nottingham, bitch!
Keep in mind, my mother had not eaten since Sunday night and it was now Monday afternoon. She’d been in labor for 15 hours. I heard the nurses put her on pitocin. I felt a little bit of pressure, and it made me slightly uncomfortable, but not enough to make me want to do anything. Why? Say it with me: Because.I’m.Roq.Nottinghaaaaaam.
So there I sat, head first in the birth canal just chillin’. We’d passed the 24 hour mark and I was pretty sure I’d established myself as the dominant male in the Winfrey-Gyekye house. But I had to make sure that Adwoa and Chris understood me. 5 more hours would suffice to make my triumphant, fashionably late entrance into the world. Diddy-style, ya dig? 29 HOURS after that water first broke. Can I get a what-what?!?!?! (I’m throwing up gang signs)
I took a bit of pity on Ms. Gyekye and Crip walked out of her vaginal opening within a few pushes. She had gone through 3 rounds of epidural and had not eaten in 2 days…which means I was kinda hungry too. Time to slide on out and get a sip of some Enfamil.
Yeah…I was born with an extremely long head and slanty eyes from being squished up in a hole the width of a garden hose , but like I said, I had a point to prove. I am 8 lbs 8 oz of solid Roq and I only do what I do when I’m ready to do it. Scared the crap outta my dad while I was at it too. Oh yeah, and I heard what you said about going on Maury, nigga. You know this is your nose.
And that, folks, is how my nephew came into the world. Balls to the wall and guns blazing.