Chapter 53: The White Wedding

 

A month after our traditional wedding, Qondanisa and I returned to Johannesburg to prepare for our white wedding. This was the ceremony I had dreamed of since I was a little girl—the white dress, the church, the vows, the celebration with all our loved ones.

We had chosen an expensive venue, a beautiful estate with lush gardens and a sparkling fountain. The church was elegant, with stained glass windows and wooden pews. Everything was perfect.

MaKhumalo had flown from Durban to attend. She was glowing with pride, her face beaming as she watched her son prepare to marry the woman he loved.

"My son is getting married," she said, hugging Qondanisa tightly. "I never thought I would see this day."

"Neither did I, Mama," Qondanisa said, laughing. "But here we are."

The morning of the wedding was chaotic but beautiful. Relato helped me into my dress—a stunning white gown with lace details and a long train. My hair was styled elegantly, and my makeup was flawless.

"You look like a queen," Relato said, tears streaming down her face. "Qondanisa is going to cry."

"I hope he does not cry too much," I said, laughing. "I do not want to ruin my makeup."

But as I stood at the entrance of the church, my heart pounding, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

I swallowed hard, trying to push it down. This was my wedding day. I could not be sick.

The ceremony began. The music swelled, and I walked down the aisle, my eyes fixed on Qondanisa. He stood at the altar, his face full of love and wonder.

But as I reached him, the nausea hit me again. I felt my stomach lurch, and I had to stop for a moment, pressing my hand to my mouth.

"Are you okay?" Qondanisa whispered, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I am fine," I lied. "Just nervous."

He squeezed my hand, and we turned to face the pastor.

The pastor began the ceremony. He spoke of love, of commitment, of the sacred bond between husband and wife. We exchanged vows, promising to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives.

"I, Qondanisa Qwabe, take you, Mapaseka Mkoena, to be my lawfully wedded wife..."

"I, Mapaseka Mkoena, take you, Qondanisa Qwabe, to be my lawfully wedded husband..."

We exchanged rings, and the pastor declared us husband and wife.

"You may kiss the bride," he said.

Qondanisa leaned in and kissed me, and the church erupted in cheers.

But as we walked back down the aisle, I felt another wave of nausea. I tried to ignore it, smiling and waving at our guests.

The reception was held at the beautiful estate. The tables were decorated with flowers and candles, and the food was exquisite. But I could not eat. Every time I tried to take a bite, my stomach turned.

I spent most of the reception in the bathroom, vomiting. Relato found me there, holding my hair back.

"Mapaseka, what is wrong?" she asked, her face full of worry. "Are you sick?"

"I do not know," I said, moaning. "I have been feeling like this all day."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Nothing stays down," I said. "I cannot even enjoy my own wedding."

Relato's eyes widened. She looked at me with a strange expression.

"Mapaseka," she said slowly, "when was your last period?"

I stared at her, my heart stopping. "I... I do not remember. I have been so busy with the wedding preparations..."

"Mapaseka," Relato said, a huge smile spreading across her face. "I think you are pregnant."

I could not believe it. I was pregnant. After everything we had been through, after all the pain and struggle, I was carrying Qondanisa's child.

I rushed back to the reception, my heart pounding. Qondanisa was talking to his mother when I grabbed his arm.

"Qondanisa," I whispered, "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" he asked, his face full of concern. "Are you okay?"

I pulled him aside, away from the crowd. "I think I am pregnant."

He stared at me, his mouth open. "What?"

"I have been vomiting all day," I said. "Relato thinks I am pregnant."

Qondanisa's face broke into the biggest smile I had ever seen. He grabbed me and spun me around, laughing.

"We are having a baby!" he shouted. "We are having a baby!"

The guests turned to look at us, confused. But Qondanisa did not care. He kissed me, right there in front of everyone.

"I love you, Mapaseka Qwabe," he said. "And I love our baby."

"I love you too," I said, laughing through my tears. "I love you so much."

Later that night, after the reception was over, we went home. I took a pregnancy test, my hands shaking. When the two lines appeared, I burst into tears.

Qondanisa held me close. "We are going to be parents," he whispered. "We are going to be a family."

I nodded, my heart full. "Yes," I said. "We are."