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GETTING MY GROOVE BACK – 15 Ways To Remain In love in spite of life pressures . Pt.1


“I don’t feel loved” …

This thought played games with my mind this
whole week as I engaged in my day to day activities. I tried unsuccessfully to
steer my thoughts from it and even searched my heart for that ‘love feeling’ to
refute this line, but it persistently invaded my thoughts and strongly too. The
constant weariness I felt by the end of each day did not help.
“It must be this constant weariness
manifesting”. I silently scolded myself as the thought gripped my mind yet
again this evening, while changing Utibe’s diaper. It feels like ages since I
last experienced that tinkling sensation down my spine and the fluttering of
butterflies in my tummy.
Could it be that a lot has changed in our
relationship or is it just the pressure from work and raising my young family?
I quietly searched my heart for answers. The chitchat and weekend movie
sessions, the  ‘passionate  sessions’ in the
middle of the day and even the ‘sleep mode’ night banter, all seem to have slowed down or  so I assumed.

“Love is not a feeling but a choice you
must deliberately work at and cultivate…”
I
clearly recall my mentor telling me with that her ‘matter of fact’ look! This
must be a phase of life, I heaved, exhaling slowly.
I have been married to my husband for ten
years and his looks still remains a head stopper, his body is well built and
beautifully crafted like a Greek god, nature has been kind to him in spite of
my many cuisine. His sex appeal is still top notch and even the baritone in his
tone which always made my heart danced in pure ecstasy has greatly deepened yet
I don’t feel loved! He still remains the most courteous man I know who treats
me like a queen, a provider who willingly places my needs above his and also
willing to accommodate my ‘misdeeds’. 
I think I need help!
The birth of our fourth child brought us
joy and increased my crew from 3 to 4. The stress of  caring for a new born and the handling of our
semi grown children has worked its toll on me and it seems my relationship with
my hubby wasn’t spared.
We welcomed our fourth baby with ‘ooh and
aahs’. The ‘ooh’ to depict how cute, handsome and adorable he was at birth and
the ‘aahs’ to describe the pregnancy which was indeed a miracle. I did not
realize I was pregnant till I was 5 months gone and don’t ask how possible that
can be seeing that I’ve had 3 children already. My monthly visitor came
regularly but with decreased flow as the months went by, I was also my normal
self except for an increased appetite for food at night. And so when my mid
region began to expand slightly I attributed it to the ‘night feeding’. It came
as a surprise when my supposed malaria test result came out with a ’twist’. Our
family doctor in his wisdom included the pregnancy test without my permission
after seeking consultation for slight fever and a constant feeling of bloating
I could not understand.

And so we named our baby ‘Utibe’ an ibibio
name which is translated literally to mean Miracle. 
My 4.1kg baby came out as I made to climb
the stairs that led to the outpatient section of the hospital. Experience can
sometimes be a killer! Lol! I took my time getting to the hospital on that
faithful day as I wasn’t in so much discomfort even when I could clearly tell
the signs that I was in ‘labour’. The ‘experienced’ mum in me held back with
all the excuses you already know – “I don’t want to spend time in the
hospital waiting for baby to come out”
ummmmh! Knowledge is always
profitable to direct oo!. Only God and the timely intervention of the nurses
saved my baby on that beautiful  day.
The birth of a fourth child came with its
blessing and challenges. One of the major challenges I faced was in my
relationship with my husband, our long idle chitchat sessions became short and
eventually non existence as I was virtually at Utibe’s call, not to mention the
constant breast feeding sessions which left my back and waist aching. Whatever
energy I had left after attending to Utibe’s many needs was expended on the
other 3 children and on other chores. 
From breakfast drama (all the mama’s know
nah!), assignments (teachers are angels joor!), to bedtime tantrums. I was
often left too exhausted to give any attention to my first baby – ‘my jaw
dropping and breath taking love of life’. 

I consoled myself with the excuse – “he understands and knows that this phase shall pass” Our ‘maracana stadium’ with its regular sessions dwindled as I often left Utibe to sleep off  on the bed after breast feeding rather than
in the baby’s cot. So it gradually changed from the cosy ‘tangling field’
where minds and bodies met in passionate intercourse and fusion to birth ideas,
dreams and love to a resting place for wearied bodies and at other times a
solace from the noise of my ‘crew’.


To be continued….













Image credit – Google

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