It was six am on September 20th 2014, the morning sun shining through the white floral curtains. The smell of Cangeero, which is a Somali version of Crepes lingered through out the house. I hear my mom chatting on the phone in the kitchen as she helps grandmother prepare breakfast. My thirteen year old twin brothers are fighting over who gets the next set of cangeero as it comes off the pan, as my grandma saying “there is more on the way boys hold on!” Before I turn to the other side to grab my phone I hear a small voice saying, “yaaay your up now you can play UNO with me” I see my little sister standing over the bed. I grabbed my phone and look at the time and tell her, “There is no way I’ll be playing with you at this time”. I use every muscle in my body to get off the bed as my nine-month belly drags me down. On my way to the bathroom, I felt my stomach tighten and pain start to wrap from my back to my belly button, I clench the bathroom door knob and my sister asks me “what’s wrong?” to which I reply, “I’m not sure.” The pain subsides quickly and I continue on to the bathroom.
When I came out my mother called for me “come eat while it’s hot Muna.” Oh was I excited, on the table were 5 pieces of rolled cangeero and a glass of milk.
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Watching the news over my loud family, the pain came back. I was two days passed my due date. I quickly called my husband who was on his way to work; he picks up and right away complains how he and our two cats miss me at home. Before he can say anything else I told him “I think I am going into labor.” My mom over heard me and said, “Are you sure? Call your doctor”. So I got off the phone and called my doctor. After telling him what I have been experiencing he asked a few routine questions and then told me I would probably have the baby with in the next 72 hours. I was caught in between excitement and the fear of not knowing what the next few days would