Hello Everyone,

I must admit that it has been a long time since posting anything I wrote myself. Plenty has happened and I need to begin by giving God all the glory and thanks for His preserving and sustaining me all this time 🙌🙌💖!!!

So during my time away from writing, I got married to this amazing man who continues to be my best friend as we walk this journey of faith. His encouraging words to me to write this post keep on ringing as I type. He encouraged me by reminding me of what one of our friends (Doug Feavel) felt I could do when I shared my story.

What is my story? Well, in 2019, we welcomed the news of our expecting our first child!!!😇😇😇 The next few days and weeks were filled with excitement and eagerness for the delivery of this gift. This, however, did not last long.

Over a month into the pregnancy, complications began that led to an emotional battle that I have never experienced before in my life. I recall making promises to God of what I would do for Him if He saved my baby. This is what I wrote down asking God during the last week of the second month…

….”Well, if the baby lives, then that would be a better miracle to talk about. Where is the hope in the loss of a baby? Where is the victory here?

Lord, I have had the comfort in blaming others for my past pain. Now I know deep within that this is your doing. How do I blame you? I am running out of hateful words or thoughts towards you…

You have proved to be big to me. Very powerful. Able to do whatever you please. How do I fight that?”….

I will be honest to say that my mind was going crazy during this season. Anger and bitterness towards God were my earliest emotions. One day after a visit from the doctor’s, I had got into a cab from work having noticed some bleeding. My heart was feeling so broken and as the helplessness increased I wept out loudly in that taxi as we went home. The driver turned on the radio to a gospel station, with words failing him. Luckily, we used a highway with few cars where my loud crying could not attract much attention. Upon arrival, I wiped my tears, paid him and thanked him for the trip.

Yes, my baby. I may have not known the gender or even had a clear scan, but I consider my loss as one who has lost a child.

Around two weeks later from that day, I lost my baby. On that day of the loss, I woke up with so much bleeding. A friend had referred us to a different Gynecologist (who would be the 3rd specialist that I saw). I called my boss to let them know that I would not be reporting to work. My husband and I then left for the check up. The Gynae had a busy schedule and the queue at his clinic was quite full. We left for lunch while the cramping feeling was increasing. When we got back, my husband decided to let the attendants at the clinic know that we had an emergency but they ignored us. So we sat at the corner seats waiting for our turn.

A little while later, the pain increased so much that I began screaming. Since the Gynae was still seeing a patient, we had to still wait. I wriggled and wriggled on my seat with loud screams in the sight of a full waiting lounge… When the Gynae got available, I stood up but quickly returned to my seat when I realized my jeans was wet. A woman woke up and came to my aid seeing my shyness of walking to the office. She was a blessing!!May God bless her wherever she is!!

In the doctor’s office the pain could not allow me to sit. I was on the floor in so much pain. The doctor quickly did a scan and confirmed that the loss was ongoing. A wheelchair was bought in and I was rushed to a nearby hospital to have an operation to finish the process.

Upon arriving, a pain killer in a drip was injected into my body for faster relief and clothes changed ready for theater. When the theater staff later came to get me, they came with their own bed. Upon lifting me to it, I realized that I had left a considerable amount of flesh on the casualty bed. Oh my heart!! Oh my heart felt so ripped apart. “Was that my baby?”, I asked within myself. No one even mentioned a thing as we moved to the theater room. Hours later, the operation was done.

My baby. Our baby. God’s baby. I do not have answers of why things happened the way they did. What I know is that am still healing from that experience. I carried bitterness within against God for quite some time and at times I feel I still do even now. Even now, there are moments I weep as I recall the events.

I will be honest to say that even with God blessing us with a child last year (2020), I still desire the one I lost. I miss the one I lost. To me, I lost a child. I may not have known the gender but to me it was a baby who only lived a few weeks.

Not really sure of the next years but my hope is that God will continue to carry me when my heart fails me. I look back and see God’s mercy and grace. My husband has been a blessing. May the Lord heal him too!

I finish this post speaking to the one going through a similar experience. God is good. He is faithful and works out everything for our good and for His glory. Yes, the memory will always be with you but be assured of God’s love for you though it may not feel like so at the moment!

May the Good Lord keep us and sustain us!!