The miracle of birth

Dear readers 

Not so long ago, I was sitting at the dinner table in my parents home listening to the word of God by two missionaries in my church. 

And in doing so, I came across two personal revelations that I have bravely decided to share here. 

They were teaching about the importance of focussing on the Lord Jesus Christ, even through all the distracting noise in the world. 

Here’s a game for the fam. 

The object of the game is to guess the number from 1 - 10, inviting us to look at the pens before making a guess. They placed 1 - 3 pens on the table and asked us to look at the pens and guess the number they had in their head. 

We had a riotous good time attempting to guess the number every time they put pens down. My mother even guessed correctly at least twice! But she still could not decipher the code. My dad was the first to get it. And boy, did he rub it in. This only motivated ME to get it. If my daddy can do it, then I certainly can. We are quite a competitive family. 

When I finally believed I understood the er, “code,” I was eager to test it out. I asked the elders to allow me to display the pens. Mum guessed correctly again. But she still didn’t understand why it was the correct answer. 

The truth is, the pens don’t matter. We place the pens down in special shapes or rows or “symbols” to distract the audience. The real answer lay on the table - in the form of how many fingers we placed on the table. As I said. My Dad was the first to understand this. He was then able to guess the number correctly each time. My mother only guessed correctly sometimes. In the end, my dad revealed the trick of it to her. What fun we had playing this game! 

This object lesson raised some questions 

- Why was it so difficult to get the answer right? 

Isn’t it because our focus was wrong? We needed to focus on the missionaries, not the pens. So when life seems to “go wrong” because we thought we had the answers - why did it go wrong? As a firm believer in Jesus Christ, I would say that the best way to “get it right” consistently would be to focus on the Saviour each and every time. 

There are so many people in the world who I believe get the answer right sometimes. They feel at peace, they feel happy, but this feeling never lasts and anxiety creeps in and they are left with soul searching questions that are never answered. Where did we come from? What is the purpose of life? These are questions that can be answered if one focusses on the teachings of Jesus Christ. 

Another question these missionaries asked us: 

- Can you think of an example in your life when focussing on the Saviour blessed your life? 

What is wonderful about this question is that it invites revelation. And I love it when the Spirit teaches me. I take questions very seriously. Questions are fuel for my soul. 

Initially, my mind goes to the hardest moment of my life. The loss the our first pregnancy. I’ve written about this multiple times on this platform, and this is not what this post is about. Yes, focussing on the Saviour at the time gave me strength, gave me courage.

But focussing on the Saviour in a more recent event also blessed my life. 

During my last semester in my university degree, we found out I was pregnant. This is a very difficult situation for me, as I have a history of losing pregnancies. The difficulty of this situation was amplified because it was unplanned, and I needed to focus on finishing my degree, which is very demanding and requires weeks of compulsory unpaid work placement. 

I was explaining to someone very close to me, that it was never a question of “whether or not” …

I would keep the baby. 

I would always keep the baby. More than that. I really wanted this baby. I already loved this baby - “bunch of cells” it may be. It was my child. 

Seeing this child on the ultrasound for the first time made me realise - this is a miracle baby. All of my viable pregnancies are miracles. All babies are miracles. What wondrous, unfathomable things our human bodies can endure and create.

However, as I was sharing to my confidante, there was a time when I felt I did not want the baby in my womb. 

My beloved Ada was my fourth pregnancy. After losing three, I inexplicably felt more comfortable with that trauma. It’s horrendous to admit. Another loss? Been there, done that. Giving birth and raising a child? A trauma and experience that frightened me. I was a tangled knot of anxiety. One thread — my anxiety of losing her. Another thread— about the delivery. Another thread— finances. Another thread —my ability to be a competent mother. Another thread —postponing my career aspirations. So. Much. Anxiety. But Ada’s story has come and gone and it seemed I triumphed. 

So then I was pregnant again in my last semester of studies.

The anxiety threatened to return. However, the miracle is that my mindset has changed since. (Therapy and medication, years of it). I wanted this baby. The world, in all its wisdoms, and distractions, and good advice and humanitarianisms … in every perspective that is financial, emotional, physical and even career-wise… May suggest abortion. 

But my mind never went there. My soul never wavered. I never thought, “wouldn’t it be easier if I weren’t pregnant? If I lost this baby, like the other ones?” At least, this time it didn’t. 

You might be wondering how I went through my last semester of studies. I’ll have you know, I didn’t do badly. I passed and I’ve graduated from Bachelor of Health Science Paramedicine. I have an induction date for later this year. I did it. And my pregnancy? 

Beautiful. Baby. Boy. We named him Archer. We love him so much. His sister adores him. It’s adorable how much she does love him. She says she wants to marry him. When I ask her to say goodnight to him, she says, "Goodnighhhht baby, have the bestest day ever!" and kisses him multiple times. More like smooches him.

And I am just so glad that my body was able to keep this one. I am so glad that my mind and soul and heart never despaired to the point of secretly wanting this one to go away. Even as I threw up my food in the back of an ambulance. Nope, still want the baby. Still love the baby. 

My first revelation? I could have aborted the baby. The world by all means would have supported it. Because I fell pregnant, I couldn't go to work straight away as planned. Another child was not in the cards, financially speaking. Another child was not in the Five Year Plan. Another child would put more strain on our already very busy and tiring lives.

There’s no way I would have let the baby go, even if given the choice. I loved my unborn child. LOVE my children.

My second revelation was that in order to focus on Jesus Christ -- I needed to let go of material desires I,e. money. We don't have a lot, my little family. But we have enough. We have what we need. I don't need to go out working all sorts of hours of the day and night for more money. What I need to do is focus on my motherhood duties. This sacred duty and these miraculous first months of my son's life is mine to treasure, not throw away to work and get more money. Don't get me wrong- if you're a woman that wants to work and study and have babies all at the same time, you do you. Women support women and I'm not here to tear you down. Reminder of a life-changing piece of wisdom I learnt from reading an autobiography of a certain First Lady (iykyk) "Women can do everything. But we cannot do everything at the same time." There is a time and season for everything. We shouldn't be running faster than we have strength. We are often expected to do everything at the same time, and I'm here to preach that you don't have to. Your worth and value does not correlate to being perfect.

I wrote a little poem about how I felt having baby instead of chasing my career straight after graduation.  He was only a few weeks old. 

Proud of me, too.

4th April 2025

He’s asleep against my chest; 

Tiny thing, my son. 

I should put him down and rest; 

Or go and get something done.  

I pick up my phone instead; 

Scrolling scrolling I go. 

Check my messages: unread 

I stare at a group photo. 

Study mates, cohort and friends;

Looking so good in blue; 

I am so proud of all of them; 

But I long to belong, it’s true. 

We studied and huddled and cried;

At the back of a van we rode. 

But my mind would be elsewhere--

I was carrying a different load. 

We made it through to graduation. 

Now they work and save lives. 

Though I raise the next generation; 

When will my moment arrive?

He’s awake and starts to cry;

Sh. Mummy’s here for you. 

When he settles and sighs, I realise; 

Hey, I’m proud of me, too.

So it's been a long while since I've written on this blogging platform. By the encouragement of family and friends, (and perhaps the tiny nagging of the Spirit), I'm going to attempt this again. A little word to my support network - all of this would not be possible without you.

If you read this, thank you so much. What are your thoughts on balancing career, studies, and being a parent? What are your thoughts on abortion? This is a safe platform, and I'm not here to judge you. But I think it's good to always open a discussion. What are your experiences of having a baby around a preschooler? 

Written with love, 

Eliza.