Chapter 23

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Chapter 23: A Love That Nurtures

Pregnancy brought with it a new rhythm — a tender, unpredictable, miraculous rhythm — and Nathan quickly adapted to it as though he had been preparing his whole life for this moment.

As a medical doctor, Nathan became more than just a husband; he became Celine's private physician, guardian, and emotional anchor. From the very first antenatal visit, he took charge of monitoring her vitals, reminding her of her supplements, checking on her sleeping posture, and even organizing her meal portions with clinical precision — though with the warmth of love and not hospital rules.

"You know you're doing too much," Celine would often tease, smiling as he carefully arranged her fruit bowl or reminded her to hydrate.

"I'll do more," Nathan would reply, gently kissing her forehead. "You're carrying my heartbeat. Nothing is too much."

The first trimester passed with its usual signs — mild nausea, fatigue, and a sensitivity to smell. But once Celine entered her second trimester, the real changes began. Her cravings became sharp and sudden — suya at midnight, cold mango slices with pepper, boiled yam and ice cream (a combination Nathan couldn't understand but happily fetched without complaint).

One evening, as Nathan walked into the house with a takeaway pack of hot jollof rice and fried plantain from her favorite local restaurant, Celine met him at the door in her loose maternity gown.

"I changed my mind," she said seriously. "Now I want white rice and ofe nsala."

Nathan blinked. "After all the driving and begging the food vendor to open after closing?"

Celine folded her arms and pouted like a child. "I thought I wanted jollof. But the baby said no."

Nathan burst into laughter and cupped her face. "The baby is already stubborn," he joked. "Just like her mother."

They both laughed, and Nathan kissed her softly before heading back to the car. "Ofe nsala coming right up, my queen."

Her mother became a constant presence too, arriving twice or thrice a week to help with meals and domestic care. Mama Celine — as Nathan fondly called her — had a way of bringing calm and comfort into the home. She would enter the kitchen with sleeves rolled, clanging pots and singing softly to herself

"My daughter must not smell kitchen smoke during this pregnancy," she'd say firmly. "Not when I'm still strong."

There were days Celine couldn't even stand the aroma of cooking — not stew, not onions, not fried food. She would retreat to the balcony with a soft towel over her nose, while her mother prepared pepper soup, moi moi, or okro soup — whichever she felt Celine could tolerate.

"You're both spoiling me," Celine said one afternoon as her mother served her plantain porridge and Nathan poured her a glass of cold tiger nut drink.

"You deserve to be spoiled," her mother replied. "And your husband is doing very well. May God bless him."

Nathan smiled and squeezed Mama's shoulder. "Amen, Ma. And thank you for helping. I honestly don't know what we'd do without you."

But beyond the food and care, what made this season special was the intimacy between Celine and Nathan. Their love had always been strong, but now, it deepened into something even more beautiful — an emotional, physical, and spiritual bond that grew stronger with every kick inside her womb.

Each night, Celine would rest her head on Nathan's chest, her hand resting over her belly as he caressed her back.

"Do you feel the baby kicking?" she'd ask softly.

Nathan would place his hand over her bump and wait patiently. When a little thump came, his eyes would light up. "She kicked again!"

"You always say 'she,'" Celine teased.

"Because I already know," Nathan grinned. "She's going to have your smile."

Sometimes, their quiet nights would turn into passionate ones. Love-making during pregnancy, surprisingly, became sweeter — not rushed, not urgent, but gentle and full of meaning. Nathan was always careful, always asking, "Are you okay? Is this comfortable?" And Celine would respond by wrapping her arms around him, whispering, "Just hold me… just love me."

Those moments became healing for her — reminders that this wasn't just about having a child, but about building a legacy of affection, care, and connection. There was nothing mechanical or obligatory about their love; it was organic, spontaneous, and alive.

Outside their home, Nathan became even more protective. The Lagos traffic, once just a regular hassle, now became a major concern for him.

"I'm driving you to work, and I'm picking you up. No arguments," he declared one morning when she insisted she could still drive herself.

"But my car—"

"Your car can rest. You are not stressing this baby, and I won't let you."

And he kept his word.

Every morning, he would drop her at Xtie Global Resources before heading to his hospital, even if it meant adjusting his shifts. Every evening, no matter how tired he was, he would wait patiently in the parking lot for her to finish, waving to her from the car with a warm smile that never faded.

"Your husband is giving us high blood pressure with his sweetness," one of Celine's colleagues joked one afternoon. "Every woman in this office is praying for a Nathan."

Celine only smiled, placing a hand over her belly. "I prayed for him too," she replied. "And God answered."

Despite the demands of pregnancy, Celine's performance at work remained commendable. Her boss had initially offered her maternity leave early, but Celine insisted she could still contribute meaningfully. With Nathan's support, she took on lighter responsibilities and shorter hours — and still managed to exceed expectations.

At night, they would plan and dream together — names for the baby, colors for the nursery, prayers for the future. Nathan would read aloud from a pregnancy book while Celine listened with her head on his lap, eyes closed, smiling.

"Listen to this," Nathan read one evening. "'By the second trimester, the baby begins to recognize the mother's voice and heartbeat.'"

"So she knows me already," Celine whispered.

"She knows love already," Nathan replied.

One Saturday afternoon, while folding baby clothes gifted by friends, Celine looked at her husband and said, "Nathan, thank you for everything."

He looked up. "You've said that a lot lately."

"I know. But I mean it. You've made this journey so peaceful… so easy. I was afraid of pregnancy. I was afraid I'd feel alone or overwhelmed, but… you've been here every step. I feel so loved."

Nathan walked to her, took her hands, and knelt before her growing belly.

"You are never alone. You'll never be alone. This child," he said, kissing her tummy, "will grow up in a home of love, peace, and laughter. I promise you that."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she touched his face.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this kind of love," she whispered.

Nathan smiled, standing to hold her close. "You healed. You waited. You trusted again. And God gave you beauty for ashes.

And just like that, as the sun filtered gently through the curtains and the quiet hum of the fan filled the room, Celine leaned into the warmth of her husband's embrace — safe, seen, and deeply cherished.

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