It was my heart’s desire when I was growing up that I would be married with three children by the time I turned thirty. I even used to say I would give birth to two girls and a boy. I said it with the certainty of someone who knew nothing about the ups and downs of human existence. This thing we call life will throw you off your plans for reasons I believe are only known to the powers above.

By thirty, I was still unmarried. I got married at the age of thirty-one and became pregnant a month later.

While doctors on duty were fully convinced I could deliver through vaginal birth, my baby’s head had blocked the birth canal causing prolonged first-stage labour. This was revealed when I was finally rushed to the theatre for an emergency C-section to prevent my womb from rupturing.

We named our son Judah because, on my way to the theatre, I was not the only one thankful to God. Nurses and other pregnant women in labour who had witnessed what was happening to me were all relieved that the doctors finally found reason to take me to the theatre.

It was a Sunday and it was obvious they were not prepared for C sections. They took two of us to the theatre. The other lady was carrying twins. The recovery ward was almost empty that evening but the whole ward was full the next day. The lady whose bed was opposite mine lost her child even after going under the knife. She went home empty-handed.

I felt so sorry for her. It never dawned on me that I would find myself in her shoes eighteen months down the line.

The dawn of the morning the incident happened, I had a dream. I was travelling on foot with a baby. I had the baby in one hand and the road was almost inaccessible so I had to resort to walking on some wooden planks covering a gutter by the roadside. I was tired but the journey seemed to never end.

At some point, I found myself and the baby in a car with other people but we were dropped off at a place that seemed to be nowhere. The next thing I saw was myself and the baby in a dark place with a wall that seemed to have no end.

In this dream, I was determined to climb the wall and get us out of the place but it was impossible to do that whilst holding the baby. I found myself climbing the wall and realised halfway through that the baby was not with me. I started wondering, “Where is the baby? How come I let him go without noticing it?” Then I woke up to find myself in severe lower abdominal pain.

The pain had started almost a week earlier. I had been to the hospital twice but my doctor told me everything was okay. I was supposed to go back on Monday to see the doctor again but the pain I felt in the morning was so severe that I couldn’t wait.

My husband took me to the hospital. When we got there the doctor told me the baby was alright and even though there were physical signs of the pregnancy being at risk, medical examinations including a scan showed everything was okay that morning. I was prescribed a medication to take and a week’s bed rest.

Before we left the doctor said, “Come back next week if you still feel the same way. We will examine you again and make a decision. At 24 weeks, the baby is fully formed and can be kept in an incubator if it comes to it.” I felt assured as I headed home.

Back home, the pain even got worse after I took the medication that was prescribed. So I took a taxi in an attempt to go see my doctor. This was my second pregnancy but everything about it was different. So I couldn’t even tell what the excruciating pain I was feeling meant.

I only figured it out when my water broke in the taxi. The baby was coming but we were nowhere near my hospital. So the driver took us to the nearest health facility.

Sadly, my baby died because there was no incubator in the facility I was taken to. She was actually neglected because I went there unprepared.

The midwife who attended to me after I watched my angel draw her last breath said; “Madam, I understand your pain, especially as I know your baby didn’t have to die. I wish I had been here earlier. We wouldn’t have admitted you here. I would have insisted that the taxi take you to the big hospital, where your baby would have been properly taken care of.”

The sad part was that my husband wasn’t with me when it happened. He had quickly rushed home to bring my hospital bag. Only to come back and receive news that our child was no longer with us. We had to leave the hospital empty-handed.

It was painful. I wept. My husband did too. My son who did not even understand what was going on showed us how much our loss had affected him when he fell ill the day after the incident.

While I was grieving my loss, I was praying for our son to survive. Thankfully, the Lord came through for us and healed our son.

Just as David encouraged himself and went before God in prayer after losing everything he and his men had, I too encouraged myself and prayed to God to restore my loss in a year’s time.

I remember when I found out I was pregnant for the third time. The scan showed I was going to have the baby in the same month I lost my second child the previous year. I was disappointed. I expressed my fears and the doctor encouraged me to be positive. He said it was his birth month too.

Later when I was pondering over the coincidence of the timing of the due date, I remembered the prayer I said to God for a restoration in a year. Knowing that it must be God at work set my heart at ease.

It was not an easy journey though. There was COVID. And I had anxiety because of the past. The good news is, though the pregnancy was a very challenging one, the Lord saw us through safely. It was another C-Section and our precious gift from God was delivered in the month we lost our second, but on an earlier date.

We couldn’t even tell people I had the baby. My husband was scared because everything was not well with my baby and me. The day after we were discharged from hospital my daughter was admitted to another hospital. Her skin had turned yellow and she had developed rushes all over her body. After what happened the last time, I was scared too but God being so good, we were discharged after five days. We announced her birth to others one month later.

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Indeed, good and perfect gifts come from the Lord. My Princess is four years old today. I used to share this testimony with individuals but after reflecting on how I should celebrate her birthday, I thought it worth sharing the story of everything we went through before we had her.

Every time I look at her, I tell God, “Thank you for this miracle you’ve given me.” All my kids are my bundles of joy. Now tell me, why shouldn’t I share this gratitude in my heart with the world as well?

Shine on, Princess. Your father in heaven has won the victory for you. Myself, Daddy, Praise and the entire family wish you a fabulous and blessed New Year.

As we celebrate the birth of my blessing today, may the Lord strengthen everyone who is grieving their loss and bless them with their miracles, just like He did for my family. This is my Princess’s birthday wish!

— Glory

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