Oh My Eggs!

By Omo Dolapo

"I'm Sorry, Dolapo, But Your Tubes Are Blocked..AND You Won't Be Able To Conceive."

Are you on the seemingly unsuccessful journey to getting pregnant?

It can be crazy right? Or worse, depressing!

Something that was designed to work naturally and produce results effortlessly not working as it should...plus there is a biological clock ticking loudly against you.

This is my story and, in this book, I share my journey with you.

A journey based in Africa where you have to contend with a lot of social forces that stigmatizes you when the boxes are not ticked.

This is a journey of hope, of courage, of faith, but most importantly of results.

Of prayers answered.

I am hoping everyone who reads this can learn a thing or two from it and experience joy at the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: omodolapo bello
• Release date: Oct 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393143451

Book preview

Content

INTRODUCTION        5 

Local Champion or City Gyal?!     7

A Quick Word          13

Licensed To Finger???         15

On Toads, Frogs And Princes        22

The Conversation           31

Son Of A ...An Outlaw          34

I Can’t Dye!            42

Editing...No...Jailbreaking My Reality      46

The Strength To Conceive         52

Of Fist-Sized Clouds And What To Do With Them     62

How To Unfreeze Your Life          68

Muna            80

Karmageddon            83

Are We There Yet?          90

Conclusion           97

Introduction  

Have you ever felt like the whole world is conspiring against you?

YOU TRY ALL YOU CAN within and sometimes, outside your powers and no results seem to be showing?

Frustrating, right? I know, because I have been there.

When I was younger, I thought I had my whole life planned out. My parents are the type that will go over and above the extra mile to make sure we are always alright, even till date.

The first time I took the UTME (JAMB) examination, my results were seized because my exam centre was flagged as notorious. My mother told everyone that cared to listen that her daughter got a very high mark; JAMB had to hold on to the result. My father, on his part, tried all he could to make sure his little princess didn't feel too bad and to make the year waiting at home pass swiftly.

When the score of my second trial at JAMB came out, my mother wasn’t going to take any chances. She followed up my result till my name came out in UNILAG VC’s special list and I got my preferred choice of study.

I am not ashamed to say my mother did my registration for me and all I did was take pictures with my matriculation gown at the ceremony.

Because I had never been away from home, when I was posted to Jos, Plateau State for my compulsory youth service, I was excited. The excitement was short lived however, because on the first day of orientation camp, I cried for my father. The pressure of the registration process got to me. I just couldn’t handle it. I took the first flight out of Jos after the three weeks orientation camp and never went back, not even to collect my certificate.

Yes. Life was relatively easy for me... Or so I thought.

The following years would open my eyes and be my baptism into life’s nasty surprises.

From facing an armed robber in my car on Apongbon bridge in Lagos, to facing death on my delivery bed, I am happy to say I won all my battles so far.

I don’t know why you got this book, but I wrote it to share my story and lessons learnt and possibly inspire you to win your own battles too.

But hey, if you are one of those ‘happy go lucky’ people that do not have any battles in life; I am sure you will still have a good laugh reading about my adventure.

Grab a bottle of wine and dig in already!

Oh wait, one favour I ask of you when you finish. Can you please go and leave me a review online? Pretty please? I will really appreciate your honest feedback.

Local Champion or City Gyal?!

What do you call someone who got all her education (Primary School to Masters Degree) inside University of Lagos? Spoilt???

NOT REALLY.

My parents are the regular kind, not flashy or flamboyant, in fact you can call them old school.  My mother still threads her natural hair and does not wear makeup and my father still has those ‘Safari’ suits of old in his wardrobe.

My father was basically into business, printing to be precise, and my mother worked in the pharmacy section of the University of Lagos Health Centre. They are both retired now.

We were loved and provided for and my parents did all they could to meet all our needs. We were not spoilt in the usual context of that word though, because my mother knew how to use the cane very well. In fact, the fear of my mother’s whip will restore your lost senses immediately.

My father was not the beating type but he knew how to punish you in a way you will ask to be whipped instead. Irrespective of whether we had visitors or not, his punishments must be carried out.

I remember when he made me stand and face the wall while my neighbour-crush was visiting. I was so embarrassed, I nearly died; I prayed the ground would open up and swallow me that day.

Can you guess my offence for that grievous punishment?

I had bought a gift for a friend’s 15th birthday with my savings. That’s right. He expected me to ask him for the money for a gift for my friend because it is his responsibility. Oh well...

In all, we were protected from the world. We were not the sort that went visiting neighbours, friends or even family members.

Notwithstanding the fact I have a very large family, we kept a very low profile.

This brings to mind an incident during my teenage years when I had just started reading Mills and Boons romance novels, dreaming of meeting my prince charming and having a sizzling relationship. We had a visitor come to the house. He was young, tall, dark and handsome, just as I had always imagined my first boyfriend would be.

Hi, is daddy home? he asked as I opened the door.

Hello. I replied dreamily.

Is daddy home? He had to ask again.

Yes, yes, he is. Please, come inside. I let him in, ran off to call my dad and dashed to look at myself in the mirror.

I hope I am looking great, first impression last you know.

There is a fine boy in the living room looking for daddy I said excitedly to my sisters and cousin who were relaxing in the room.

They rushed out to see