MATILDA’S POV
My body shook as I ran my hands over my tummy. “What do you mean by that?” Fear took over me entire being.
“Gestational diabetes can cause complications such as fetal macrosomia, preterm birth, or stillbirth,” Doctor Beatrice explained slowly.
“So you’re saying I have this gestational diabetes…” My voice broke, and I swallowed hard to stop the tears threatening to spill. “And It could harm my baby? It could…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say the word.
The doctor’s face softened, but her expression remained serious. “Matilda, I know this is overwhelming, but with proper management, monitoring your blood sugar levels, following a healthy diet, and using insulin, we can significantly reduce the risks to both you and your baby.”
I nodded, barely hearing her. My mind was spinning, every fear I had ever felt suddenly amplified. This was my first pregnancy, and I had done everything right or so I thought. How had this happened?
“But what if…” My voice trembled again. “What if it’s too late? What if I’ve already…”
“It’s not too late,” she assured me, her tone firm but kind. “The fact that we’ve identified this now gives us the chance to act. You’re not alone in this, Matilda. We’ll work out a treatment plan to keep you and your baby safe.”
I exhaled shakily, pressing my hands against my belly as if I could protect my child from everything, even my own body. “I just want my baby to be okay,” I whispered.
“And that’s exactly what we’re aiming for,” She replied. “Not just the baby but you.”
“I think you should discuss this with arlan as soon as possible.” She added but my thoughts were far gone.
“Matilda…” She tapped the table between us to jolt me out of my reverie.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” I replied. “Thanks for the advice, I will talk to him as soon as possible.”
*
I drove round the city aimlessly. “Is this the punishment for what I did?” I asked myself. “But shouldn’t I be punished alone for it and the baby spared?”
I drive until I got to a cathedral church downtown. The towering structure loomed above me, its spires piercing the darkened sky like solemn sentinels.
“What am I doing here?” I asked myself but there was something calming about the cathedral environment.
“Now that I’m here, maybe I should just walk around.”
My hands were still trembling as I stepped out of the car and walked toward the massive doors. They creaked open as I pushed them, revealing the dimly lit sanctuary within.
I wasn’t sure of what I was doing but I took a seat and watched. I saw people heading to the confession box.
Soon, the crowd dispersed. So I decided to make my way to the confession box.
Sliding open the small wooden door, I entered and sat down on the bench. The air inside was stifling, the scent of aged wood and incense wrapping around me like a cocoon. A thin screen separated me from the priest on the other side, his shadow barely visible.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
There was a pause, then the priest spoke, his voice calm and steady. “The Lord is always willing to forgive. Speak your heart, my child.”
I gripped my hands tightly together, my knuckles turning white. Where did I even begin?
“It’s been… years since my last confession,” I started, my voice barely audible. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Start where you feel the weight is heaviest,” he encouraged.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Father, I’m pregnant,” I said, my voice breaking. “And I just found out I have gestational diabetes. The doctor says it could hurt my baby if I don’t manage it properly, but all I can think is that this is my punishment for what I’ve done.”
There was a long pause, and I could feel the priest’s shifted on the other side of the screen.
“Punishment? What do you believe you are being punished for, my child?”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, my breath hitching. “The child I carry is as a result of drugging the man I love but loves another. And now… now I’m terrified that God is taking this baby away from me because of what I did.”
The silence that followed my confession felt like an eternity.
Finally, the priest spoke. “My child, you are carrying a great burden, not just in your body, but in your soul. But I must remind you, the Lord does not seek to punish. Instead, He calls us to repentance and healing.”
I wiped my cheeks, my hands trembling. “But how do I seek repentance for something like this? I’ve violated his trust, his choice. It … It must be the reason why I’m in this shoe.”
“Shame can weigh us down, but it can also lead us to redemption,” he said gently. “The first step is acknowledging what you’ve done, which you’ve already taken. The second is seeking forgiveness. Not only from God but from the person you wronged, if possible.”
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. “What if he never forgives me?”
“Forgiveness is not always instant, nor is it always given by others,” he replied. “But it is essential that you begin with yourself. Punishing yourself will not undo the past, nor will it benefit your child. You must focus on what you can do now to make amends and live righteously moving forward.”
“And my baby?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Do you think… do you think God will let me keep this child if I do that?”
“God’s will is not for us to interpret,” the priest said, his tone compassionate yet firm. “But I believe He has entrusted you with this child for a reason. It is your responsibility now to care for this life, to give this child a future free from the shadows of your past.”
“Thank you, Father,” I whispered.
“May the Lord guide you and give you strength,” he said softly. “You are not beyond redemption, my child. Go in peace, and remember that the path to healing begins with love for yourself and for others.”
As I stepped out of the confession box and to the outer part of the cathedral, I feel light.
I placed a hand on my belly, closing my eyes. “I don’t know if I deserve you,” I whispered to the baby growing inside me, “but I promise to do everything I can to protect you.”