My husband, Ashley and I had been seeing each other for a little over eight years (having met as teenagers) before we tied the knot in 2006. During these long years we had spoken about our future together, our dreams and our aspirations. Like all couples, we too had our share of disagreements and fights. Somewhere along the road, we had discussed children and how much we both loved even the thought of having babies. We had our whole little world planned out in our minds, secure teaching jobs and a comfortable home filled with love and the chatter of our little kids. We spoke very often about having a child soon after marriage and then going ahead with adopting a little girl once our biological angel was around two years old. Everything fitted in so well and the picture was perfect.
Within three months of getting married, we were elated to know that we were having a baby. We could not think of anything else besides our little baby, who was expected to be with us by the beginning of November, 2007. We started planning for our angel’s arrival. It was the most wonderful feeling that we had ever experienced. Watching our baby through the ultrasound was truly amazing. We did not know that the sound of a heart beating could be so wonderful. In the fourth month, I began to feel a bit uneasy – a little voice inside me said things weren’t right. We went in for an ultrasound and having sensed my fear, the doctor very patiently showed us a little heart beating, the various organs in place and little hands and legs that were well formed. Our little baby also did a little somersault as if telling us that he was well. I was at peace. However, at the end of the week, our whole world was thrown out of sync. My water broke and little could be done to save our baby. I imagined a small baby standing with sand flowing through his fingers and before I knew it, my son was gone. Tears flowed, depression followed and I knew that my life was never going to be the same. I felt guilty that I had failed as a mother; I had not done anything to save my little boy. I hated everything, especially myself. I screamed at my husband because it hurt me to see him move around as if nothing had happened. Little did I know that he was living in hell. Gradually, we began to piece our lives together. Life seemed to drag along, not a single day was spent without thinking of Ayden, our little boy.
The beginning of 2009 brought with it new hope. We were expecting again and this time we made sure that we did everything to make this pregnancy work. I slowly picked up the courage to dream of a house filled with laughter. However, the ultrasound revealed that our baby had stopped growing in the seventh week and had passed away silently. I could not believe that I had failed once again. How had I not known that my baby had gone? Was I so caught up in my world that I had not even heard my baby’s plea? I reached rock bottom. I began to believe that there was no God. I cursed God for not being there when I needed him the most. I was so blind that I had failed to feel His presence in the form of a strong, faithful husband, a loving mother, a supportive family and caring friends. I shunned them all. Life could not have been worse.
I cried bitterly and asked God to give me an answer to what the purpose of my life was. I begged Him to tell me what he had in mind for me. The following weekend, I was surprised when my father in law asked me if I had considered adoption. At that very moment, it all fell into place, it was clear. God had designed our lives in a way that our baby would be carried only in our hearts while someone else provided her with a safe womb. The very next week, we visited SOFOSH and the decision was reinforced when we saw so many babies reaching out to us. God had finally led us to the answer to our prayer!
– Petronella Eates
Photo Credit : David Niblack, Imagebase.net