It is a real privilege to be sharing this particular testimony because I can imagine that it was a very difficult one to write and even more difficult to be so vulnerable publicly. As I read this testimony, it took all my strength not to burst into tears. I didn’t want to cry because Kemisola had emphasized in her email to me that she didn’t write this looking for a pity party but to encourage others and I have been truly encouraged. it is only God that could have given her the strength and I am just in awe. This is the first part of this testimony but there is so much to learn. Even when you are hurting, please stay in a place of worship just like Kemisola did, its one of the most powerful tools we can adopt as children of God. When you can’t pray, praise and be thankful for the blessings you do have and see God respond to that. I pray that this post REALLY encourages every single person regardless of your situation because God always comes through. He will always give us beauty for ashes.
I got married in December, 2009 and soon after I gave birth tomy beautiful daughter, In the 5 years following the birth of my daughter, I have suffered an ectopic pregnancy and over 7 late miscarriages, after a while I simply lost count. By “late” miscarriages I mean I lost all babies during the second trimester and had to have a dilation and curettage (d&c) in every instance. All procedures were very traumatic for me, and in most instances were classified as a life or death situation; but God always gave me victory! I cannot go through the details of each and every miscarriage I had, but I will touch on the last one, which occurred in September 2014, as it was probably the toughest one of them all for me. I found out early summer that I was pregnant with twins, after all the previous miscarriages I was so pleased; as far as I was concerned God was granting me double for my trouble because I don’t come from a lineage of twins, and neither does my husband, so this pregnancy was truly of God. We tried to keep the pregnancy quiet, but as with every other pregnancy I’ve had, at around 5 weeks I was already showing. Unlike the past miscarriages, being a twin pregnancy this one was categorized as high risk. What that meant was that I had to inject myself daily; had to have daily suppositories and daily medications to prevent or reduce the risk of another miscarriage. At the time, I had a full time job that I had to wake up to every morning, so for me it was no simple walk in the park but still, I was hopeful and trusted that God who had blessed me with twins will surely see me through it all! At about 9 weeks into the pregnancy I started spotting. I remember freaking-out and rushing to the hospital, but was told to go back home and relax; that everything was fine, and in order. I continued to pray—hard; and though the spotting did not stop, every time I would spot I would just say to myself that this could only be the blood of Jesus, and nothing more. I held onto my faith; held onto God, but when I think back to it, deep down inside I was still very frightened. Every trip to the toilet was a nightmare; I would be scared to go to the toilet for fear of bleeding out and loosing the babies.
Weeks passed, and every week we went to the hospital for a scan and got good reports. I finally hit and passed the 14-week mark (which I had never done with my previous pregnancies). To put it in perspective for you, with all my other miscarriages before this, I had lost the babies between 12 and 14 weeks. It was always bang-on, as soon as I reached the second trimester the devil always seemed to come just at that time to take my babies away. So imagine my joy when, at 14 weeks, my babies were still in tact, and growing very well with no issues. Then came the dreaded week. I was 19 weeks pregnant and had just come back from work, I was resting in the parlor when all of a sudden I felt a leak, or rather I thought I had peed myself. I went quickly to the loo and found that there was no blood, but only some clear fluid. I ignored it, because to me as long as it wasn’t blood it was all good. Besides, I had passed the first trimester and was well into my second trimester, so as far as I was concerned nothing could possibly go wrong. At this stage I don’t even think I told my husband, as I assumed nothing was wrong. I calmly went to bed without a worry in the world. The next morning, I arose to find that the whole bed was wet—but it wasn’t wet with blood (and it obviously was not pee); so we rushed to Reddington Hospital.
Upon getting there and seeing the doctor, he advised that we needed to do a scan, and that from what I was telling him, it seemed like one of the amniotic sacs had burst. We eventually did the scan, and to my dismay I was reliving my worst nightmare once again. —How could this be happening? I had already passed my first trimester and was well into my second trimester, and I had just had a scan last week and everything was ok. I could hear both heartbeats clearly, so what did the doctor really mean? The scan confirmed what the doctor had said earlier, one of the sacs had split and the baby would not and could not survive; it was only a matter of time before the same would happen to the other baby and again I would have to undergo a d&c as I could have an infection, and my life would be at risk. You can only imagine my reaction to this news, it wasn’t pretty and looking back I thank God that my husband was with me. My husband immediately called my doctor in London and he said I should take the next flight to see him.
I left Reddington with a heavy heart, and alone I boarded a plane to London that night. My husband could not come with me, as he had to be with our daughter as we did not want to displace her from school and I personally did not want anyone around me. It was the longest flight ever. The following morning, as I got into London, I went straight to the hospital from the airport and my doctor having undertaken some tests and scans confirmed what I had been told in Nigeria, but he also told me that I should be hopeful, that it’s very rare but that there are circumstances in which babies have actually survived such situations, and that if we could just make it to the 24-week mark they could deliver the babies and could keep them in ICU. I was admitted to the hospital that very day, and was there for 3 days under observation. My husband and daughter joined me a couple of days later. I held on, I prayed and prayed—God would not bring me this far and allow my fruit to cast before its time.
A week went by and everything seemed to be ok, I was discharged from the hospital. I had to come into the hospital on a daily basis for a scan (ideally the doctor wanted me to remain in hospital until I was 24 weeks, but the costs were unsurmountable). We came in daily for our scan; and to the glory of God the baby with no amniotic fluid continued to have a strong heart beat and was growing well. The doctor told me the dangers of having the babies at 24 weeks (brain damage, disabilities, deformity) but I just wanted my babies and I knew that God in his own infinite mercies would sort it out. I had asked God for a huge testimony and this, to me, was just part and parcel of that testimony; we were going to have our babies. I held on to the promises of God. At about 21 weeks of pregnancy, which is basically 5 months, we went in for the scan and the twin with no sac (the boy) was doing fine, he had a strong heart beat and was growing well. I was extremely excited and hopeful. The following day after the scan I was home with my husband and all of a sudden I started having contractions. At this point I wasn’t aware it was the onset of Labor, as I didn’t experience this with my daughter (With her I was induced and had a Csection). We rushed to the hospital, as I started sweating and shivering uncontrollably. As I got to the hospital I don’t even remember what happened all I know is that I was admitted and I was told that the worst seemed to be happening—that I had an infection or the baby had an infection. Long story short my body was rejecting the babies. Imagine being told that your body is rejecting your own flesh and blood. I was readmitted that day, and at about 10pm that night my husband had just left me to take our daughter home. Not up to twenty minutes after he leftIstarted having the worst contractions ever, I went into Labor and I delivered both my babies.
I delivered both babies: My handsome prince came first, and within the space of about 10 minutes my little princess followed—they didn’t make it. I caught a glimpse of them but could not bring myself to look at them or hold them. In all of this, after delivering the twins, one of the baby’s placentas was too high up so I couldn’t push it all out. That very night I had to be rushed into theatre for yet another d&c to remove the placenta. I went through hell on earth! I was told I needed a blood transfusion but I refused it as honestly at that stage I was just in a confused emotional state. I couldn’t understand it. I cried, I screamed, I couldn’t pray. The pain wouldn’t stop. No one could understand. How did I get here? What did I do wrong? What sin had I committed that was so grave to warrant this sort of punishment? The tears wouldn’t stop. How would I explain to my mum that once again my babies were dead, how would I explain this to my daughter? My daughter: she came to see me the following day in hospital and said to me, “Mummy where are my brother and my sister? Are they coming out? Are they here already?” I said to her, “No, Sweetie They are in heaven, God has taken them to heaven.” She started crying and she said, “But Mummy how come Aunty B [that’s my older sister] had a baby in her stomach and she came out and your baby never comes out?” I had failed her as far as I was concerned, I had failed everyone; my daughter, my mum, brother, husband, everyone. A week after this I was dealt another heavy blow; a betrayal from someone really close. It seemed all too much, and I felt that there was no way I could come back from this one.
Through it all I couldn’t pray, but I had my praise and worship albums on my phone on repeat. William McDowell and Donnie McCLurkin were my best friends, as I listened to them back to back. It wasn’t easy, especially with doctors and midwives coming in asking me to arrange for the funeral for my babies, giving me drugs to stop be producing breast milk not to mention the fact that I still looked pregnant. But Jehovah had mercy on me and saw me through it all. I stayed in London for a couple of months after that, as I was not ready to go back home and face my reality —having to explain to people that once again there is no baby. I finally came home after 4 months and it sure wasn’t easy. It just seemed to never stop. I would run into the bathroom at work and cry; I would go to Church and see my peers pregnant, doing baby dedication; I would be sat in church and just start crying. In this space of time, about 5 of my friends got pregnant. I was happy for them, but it was just all in my face. After a while I stopped explaining or trying to explain to people and when they asked how the baby was I would just reply fine, baby is at home.
The pain was real and very deep, but God never left me he stayed with me, I stayed in worship as I couldn’t pray. My husband always reminded me to just be thankful, at least we have one beautiful, healthy talented princess and I agreed and even concluded that God’s plan for me was to only have one child. My husband and I had agreed that no more babies, we would be more careful and would adopt if we felt the need to later in the future. It is important to say that my husband and I were not really pressed to have another child, I just happened to get pregnant every time it was never ever planned just carelessness on both our parts or God’s will I have grown to learn. We attended cross over service on the 31st of December 2014 and Pastor Paul Adefarasin preached about 2015 being a year of testimony, he said, ‘there is no testimony without a battle’. God will make an ocean in Egypt. We are toughened by the same spirit that raised Christ form the dead’. I held on to every word and Isaiah 3v10 (which Pastor Paul gave as a reference) ‘reassure the righteous that their good living will pay off.. Say to the righteous it shall be well his soul’. This was it for me after that service which I believe was solely for me, I knew without a doubt that it will work together. I was still adamant that no more babies but I had inner peace and I twirled into 2015 with my spirit lifted pouring my all into being a better mother, wife, rebuilding my career and getting my life back and right with Christ.