Last night as my husband lay asleep, I found myself pacing this little room. I couldn’t sleep. I laid in bed and spent some few moments watching how peaceful he looked asleep. I tried to close my eyes and sort of count sheep to try to sleep. I didn’t switch the computer on as I know I’d just be on it for hours.
So I stood by the window. Enjoying the cool air of the night. There wasn’t much space for me to go anyway. I have a nephew-in-law who sleeps in the hall and I need to get properly dressed if I want to leave the room.
Earlier last night, during Eid visiting to my uncle’s, his mother-in-law asked how long I’ve been back in Singapore. It was the most asked question of the night actually. Like I said, I returned and went into recluse. So I answered her with a tinge of guilt, “A few weeks already”. Her next question totally caught me off-guard.
“Have yet?” with her eyes looking down on my tummy.
I faked a smile and shook my head, “Not yet”. Her next statement killed me.
“So long already”.
I felt my blood drained out of me. It was as if my soul was sucked out of there, right under my nose.
Perhaps it’s because she’s an elderly and I couldn’t be rude to snap her out of the question. Suddenly I felt so lonely in a house filled with almost 60 people.
She went on, “But it’s not so bad, you can still do things together.” Maybe she saw pity through me. When she paused, I just stood up and went in search for my husband.
I found him in the boys’ room having a go at XBox with my younger cousins. He certainly has his ways with kids, he always do. I wanted to pull him away, out of that room and just burst into tears in his embrace. But seeing him having fun with the boys, I didn’t have the heart to.
So I found myself standing by the kitchen door, sipping hot tea and staring into space. I cried to myself, inside.
I cried silently by the window. I didn’t want to wake him, the light-sleeper he is.
Sometimes, I tell myself that my condition is a blessing in disguise. But sometimes, I cannot help but to just crumble and cry and ask when. Last night was just one of those “sometimes”.
I don’t want sympathy nor pity. I want people to stop asking, but really, how can I stop them? Am I supposed to leave the house with a tee that says, “I’m trying godammit!” I thought I’d get over it. After all, it’s been almost 3 years since people have been asking, “Are you pregnant yet?” “Are you taking birth control pills?” “You don’t want children eh?”
The only way for me to shut people up is for me to stay in recluse. Stay away from people. That’s what I’ve been doing.
Once my reply to people was, “I’ll tell the whole world when I’m pregnant,” but now I think when I do get pregnant finally, I will just go back into recluse.