SUNNY WEDNESDAYS: IVIE (XII)

 

The drive had grown so still, so heavy with unsaid things, that Osaze found himself stealing glances at her, just to be sure she was still there. Ivie sat quiet, her gaze fixed on the window, as though the trees and buildings flashing by could offer more clarity than the silence sitting between them.

They were making progress, or so she believed. Slowly inching toward presence, toward some form of co-parenting rhythm for the babies on the way. But she hadn’t expected him to suggest something beyond the bare minimum. Not more care. Not… consideration. His words had lingered long after he spoke them.

“I’ll make the guest room available for you. Rita will also be popping in from time to time.”

It sweetened her heart in a way she wasn’t ready to name. A warmth bloomed quietly, stubbornly, one she wanted to brush aside but couldn’t. He had thought about her comfort. Her needs. And in its own quiet way, that meant something. Osaze gave a small, grateful nod, his expression unreadable but soft.

Ivie, in turn, had shown him grace from the beginning. Care, even if measured and cautious, had still been care. And for that, he was quietly thankful.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said, breaking the silence with an awkward smile. It hung in the air, unsure of where to land.

“I should be expecting you when, then?” she added, trying hard to lace her voice with indifference, to downplay the ripple of curiosity in her chest.

“Weekend,” he replied simply. “I’ll be available from the weekend.”

Another pause. A nod from both. No fireworks. No clear resolutions. Just two people parting ways beneath the hush of an evening sky, each carrying words they hadn’t yet learned how to say.

ππππππ

She exhaled slowly, the morning breeze brushing against her skin as she watched Osaze ease her gently into the car. He moved with a calmness that soothed her, his hand warm and sure as it supported the small of her back.

The car, a newer model SUV equipped with a baby-friendly seat, soothing classical music playing softly in the background, was proof that Osaze had been listening. Really listening. He had come prepared, and not just with logistics, but with thoughtfulness. On the dashboard sat a chilled bottle of date juice, exactly what Dr. Bridget had recommended for strengthening her uterine muscles in preparation for delivery. As they drove through the city towards SeaGate Hospital, Ivie allowed herself to reminisce about the last two days. The days since Osaze had moved in.

It had been strange at first. She’d kept her distance, speaking only when necessary and often excusing herself to rest or to work in her home office. But he hadn’t pushed. He had respected her space, moving around the house like a guest willing to become family again, slowly, respectfully.

It was his consistency that disarmed her. The fruit trays, the bedtime teas, his notes in her devotionals. She had noticed the way his Bible had fresh bookmarks each day, how he journaled before bed, how he spoke about the Men’s Fellowship with genuine interest. He had kept to his word and was more involved in the Men's Fellowship and personally God, he wasn’t just doing this for her anymore, he was doing it for himself. Osaze wasn’t pretending to be the man she had prayed for. He was becoming him. Patiently.

When they arrived at the hospital, two nurses welcomed them with soft greetings and warm smiles. Osaze helped her out again, holding the doors open and carrying her hospital bag like it was holy. Dr. Bridget was already waiting. “Ah, our strong mama!” she beamed, her braided bun perched high and tidy, her white coat crisp. “let’s get you prepped and comfortable.”

They eased her into the delivery room, everything bathed in the golden light of the morning sun filtering through the blinds. The beeping of monitors was a low hum in the background, and the sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air. Osaze stayed close, one hand on her shoulder as the nurses helped her change and settled her into position.

A Day Ago

“No evening walks today?” Ivie asked with mock innocence, barely hiding the playful smirk tugging at her lips as she shifted on the couch. Osaze already knew that Ivie was up to no good, ever since he had moved in the day before, Ivie had become strangely mischievous. Not loud mischief, gentle, testing jabs.

He remembered how she’d teased him about his newfound love for evening walks. He had pitched it with too much excitement after reading that walking could help her pelvic muscles and ease the final days of pregnancy. She had initially resisted, claiming swollen ankles and fatigue. But after some playful back-and-forth, she agreed, and that evening, they had strolled around the compound slowly, his arm just lightly brushing hers. She hadn’t said much, but her eyes had softened.

He finished slicing up the fruit salad, pineapples, strawberries, watermelon, and kiwi, and set the bowl gently on the ceramic-shaped stool beside her.

“When I come back from Men’s Fellowship,” he said, offering a gentle grin, “we’ll go. I promise.” That word. Promise. He had avoided it since moving in, choosing instead to show rather than tell. But today, it came out, soft, intentional.

“Drive safely,” she replied, the sincerity in her voice catching even her off-guard. She hadn’t expected to miss him. Not this quickly. Not like this.

As he picked up his keys and headed to the door, she watched him. Rita’s words echoed again in her mind. Marriage counseling. She’d whispered it more than once, subtly slipping it in like a prayer over tea. Ivie suspected she had been sowing the same seed in Osaze’s heart too.

And she was grateful for Rita, her ever-available second-in-command, her voice of reason when hormones and heaviness overtook her. With her ankles too swollen to always be at the office, Rita had been a gift, making sure operations and events not only ran but blossomed.

Ivie took a spoonful of the fruit salad and smiled at the balance as she escorted him to the driveway. Osaze could see her waving as he drove, A sight to always come home to.

Present Day

“I came as fast as I could!” Rita Adedeji announced breathlessly, her smile stretching from ear to ear as she practically skipped down the corridor of SeaGate Hospital’s Maternity Wing.

The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and baby powder, and soft beeps from heart monitors echoed down the hallway. But right there in the waiting area, Osaze stood rigid, his hands trembling, his breath uneven “They went in 20 minutes ago, I was told to. . .” He tried steadying his breath.

Rita took one look at him, pacing the width of the white-tiled waiting lounge like a caged lion, and placed a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. ““It is alright, you were told to wait here?”

Osaze nodded as he paced around, he didn’t feel fine. Not even close. He kept glancing at the double doors with the sign LABOUR & DELIVERY: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, as if staring hard enough might will them to open with news.

30 minutes, 40 minutes, . . . An Hour 

Osaze looked up as he smelt fresh bread, Rita grinned and handed him a small nylon bag. “Chocolate bread and cold tea from the kiosk down the block. You need to eat. Afterwards, we’ll pray, alright? And don’t even try saying you have no appetite.”

Osaze hesitated, but his hands moved before his mind could argue. “Thank you, Mrs. Rita,” he murmured, barely managing a smile. He took a bite, and his stomach let out an unceremonious growl. The chocolate filling warmed his senses, and the cold tea soothed his parched throat. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d last eaten. It had all happened so fast, Ivie's sudden cry in her sleep, the rush to the car, the bag that barely got zipped before they bolted. 

He had assumed they would take a leisurely drive to the hospital since they knew today was the stipulated day according to the estimation given by Dr. Bridget but Ivie had gripped his hand mid-contraction, face flushed and glistening with sweat, her voice calm but determined as she started practicing breathing exercises.

As she was wheeled into the hospital, she had held his hands “we can try marriage counseling once our babies come, see you at the other side Osa babe" She hadn't given him time to respond before Dr. Bridget and her team wheeled Ivie away.

He had so much he was waiting on: Ivie, their babies and the hope of a fresh start.

A familiar voice cut through his daze.

“I came as soon as I could, bro.” Emmanuel’s tall frame emerged into view, his eyes flickering with both concern and excitement. “Any news yet?”

Osaze shook his head. “Not yet. We’re still… waiting.”

Rita stood, brushing crumbs off her skirt. “Perfect. The squad is here,” she said, her voice full of warmth and reassurance. She looked far too calm, Osaze could not understand how Rita was so calm at a time like this.

“Good afternoon, Ma,” Emmanuel said with a slight bow.

“Good afternoon, Emmanuel,” Rita returned with a smile. “We were just about to pray. Care to join us?”

“Absolutely.”

Rita reached out her hands, and without hesitation, the two men each took one. They formed a quiet circle in the middle of the hospital waiting lounge, heads bowed as if the very heavens had bent low to listen.

“Heavenly Father,” Rita began, her voice steady and filled with quiet conviction, “we have come to say thank you. Lord, you are so good at what you do—how you bless, how you renew, how you restore. We bless you for the lives of Mrs. Ivie, Mr. Osaze, and their three little gifts.”

Osaze squeezed her hand, his throat tight.

“You have crowned them with blessing upon blessing. Thank you for a smooth and speedy delivery. Thank you for the successful removal of the placenta, for the medical team guiding this miracle, for strength, for peace, and for the ample supply of blood they all require. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us three perfect little babies and for making all things new. Glory to your name, in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen,” Osaze and Emmanuel echoed in unison.

A quiet fourth voice joined in—“Amen.”

They turned.

Dr. Bridget stood at the door with a wide smile, her hands clasped in front of her white coat. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said, her voice warm. “But congratulations are in order. Mother and babies are doing absolutely well, this way, please”

His heart thundered. Every step forward felt like a leap of faith. Emmanuel and Rita followed close behind, joy glimmering in their eyes.

Osaze’s breath caught as the corridor stretched before him, just one hallway between him and the new chapter he’d been waiting for.

And this time, he was ready to walk into it.