The last few months were pretty rough for me. My husband and I were expecting our first child, when life threw us a nasty curve ball: we had our first miscarriage. Tragic as it was, my mind didn't quite fathom what had happened, until the next event hit me even harder: another family member went home to the Lord. Life was giving me a reality check: miscarriages, family members in poor health, aches and pains associated with our daily toil, foods I used to love no longer agreed with me, and worst of all, the person in the mirror is grayer than she was only a few years ago. That realization hit me hard: I wasn't in my 20s anymore. I was past the age of having an healthy pregnancy. In fact, I'd entered advanced maternal age. How did this happen? What happened to all of my youthful years? Will we succeed if we decide to try again? As I thought about it, I began to spiral into deep despair. What-aboutism plagued me day and night. My thoughts were unkind: I've failed as a woman. My best years were stolen from me by my corporate overlords, and nothing to show for it. How could I have been so stupid?? Naturally, I went into a deep depression.

Losing

I began expecting my child in the late fall of 2024. The cold slowly crept in, election fever was at it's height, and although night fell much sooner, things were looking bright: I was about to have my first child! Then came that dark winter night. It was way past midnight, and I had been lying in bed in moderate discomfort, when I felt a sudden, terrible cramp in my pelvic area. I went to the bathroom thinking it was nature calling, when I began spotting, then haemorrhaging, and soon after, a blob had come out of me. My denial was brief, mixed with a sense of dread and horror. I had to tell my husband what had happened. We went to the emergency right away, and after about an hour, we were told the bad news: we had lost our first child after about a month and some change. Under these circumstances, we decided to name our child Eleisha, after Elijah, whom God had carried to Heaven in chariots of fire.

Learning

Through the devastation, we needed answers. We searched the web, asked family and friends, queried our pastor about both losses, and even grilled my obstetrician. Yet, no answers provided satisfied my sense of injustice. Why? Why did God see fit to take away our joy?? We needed to know why? Was there sin in my life? Did God not love me anymore? Distraught, I didn't wish to go through that experience again, especially since I needed some time to sulk and go through my healing journey. After the New Year, I began to snap out of it some what. We tried again. I bought some pregnancy tests and waited a whole week! After the pregnancy test came back positive, we were elated! We were also cautious. I vowed to watch what I put in my body. Food, drinks, medicines, even supplements didn't escape my scrutiny! And during this period of caution, I had discovered so much that was wrong with my lifestyle, which I vow to share.

Sharing and (hopeful) Triumph

Speaking of sharing, you're probably asking why am I sharing my lived experience here? Well, typically, I don't like sharing things that hit so close to home, but because when I made this site, one of my promises is that this site is should help visitors, without all the nonsense and fluff that plagues many websites today. So, as personal as it is, I will make an exception and talk turkey with my visitors. As of today, I'm well into my second pregnancy, and God willing, we'll see this child through the finish line. What's alarming is the fact that such a flowery term such as rainbow baby. This tells me that too many women have experienced a miscarriage, and this shouldn't be! So, I'm determined to do something about it, and if sharing my experience helps those of you going through what I have, then I'm halfway there.

Stay tuned for updates...