I couldn't keep the tears from flowing as I held him in my arms for the first time, he was pure magic; soft, warm, breathing, crying— alive. Mine. Undeniably mine and I loved him dearly, more than life itself.
"Welcome my little one, my Miracle! I whispered as I pressed my lips to his velvet cheeks, kissing the blushes as I inhaled his freshness, his newness, the essence of it filling me with awe.
Five years. Five long and empty years of waiting, praying, bleeding hope, stitching it back with trembling fingers. Five years of false smiles and muffled sobs in the shower. Five years of holding my breath every month, only to exhale in disappointment.
The whispers started, first on a gentle note but later escalated into overt taunts.
"You know that all a woman is worth within our African society, is tied to the cries of a baby in her home, the more, the better. where there's silence as in your case, we term the woman to be a man." My mother-in-law nicely explained to me with an underlying threat.
"My son need babies, I need to hear the cries of children in this house, I want to dandle my grandchildren on my knees and play with them. If you can't give me this one wish of mine, I'm afraid, he would have to take another wife."
"No Mama, it has not gotten to that, I will have children, God will surely bless me with children in his own time." I knelt before her crying, willing her to understand that I'm not the one who gives children.
"No problem, you have all the time to wait but while you are at it, my son will take another wife." She finally spilled it, her intentions.
Each word was a dagger carving invisible scars
As the months went by, and then the years, I started believing that perhaps I was not meant to cradle children. My childless silence was deafening. Each month a nightmare and a torture.
Our home, once alive, was now an echo and a shadow of its former self. My husband became withdrawn. In the beginning, we tried to reassure each other by holding our hands through the storm. But love hollowed out in the midst of our predicament.
He stopped going for hospital appointments meant for the both of us like I was the only one who had the problem. Then came silences. Long, intolerable silences when he stopped holding my hands.
We simply became two strangers sharing a bed.
And then… he left. Not physically. But emotionally. He found comfort in conversations I wasn’t a part of. The crack between us widened, and nothing I did could mend it.
But God. But mercy. But a miracle.
A day soon came, in the embers of dying hope, the test read "positive". I didn't scream. I didn't cry out. I just sat staring at the two pink lines, worried that even blinking would erase them.
No felicitations from anyone, I didn't need one! It was my pregnancy so most nights, I slept propped up, whispering prayers over my belly, playing lullabies to a baby I hadn't yet met, patiently waiting for his arrival. Then he came, my son, my star, my magic, my miracle.
Everything became clear to me with his arrival; pain, disgrace, and heartbreak-all of it. He is beauty beyond ashes.
His father showed up at the hospital, quiet, unsure; perhaps ashamed. I handed over our son to him, and for a moment, the years between us shrank. His hands trembled, lips quivered, and eyes watered, only for that moment. "He's... perfect," was all he could whisper.
But even perfect couldn't stitch the broken pieces back together.
I left the hospital with my son and a heart that rested, reconciled to its past. The miracle that he was did not repair my marriage but it mended me. I could now wake each day with joy, for I could now sing, dance, and tell him how much he was loved, even when the world said otherwise.
Soon after, my angel and my princess came along, another magic, to be a companion to his brother.
My joy was replete
Magic became real.
Sometimes, they come wrapped in tiny blankets and cry when they’re hungry.
They heal you more than any apology ever could.
And sometimes…
They call you Mama.
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I am @edith-4angelseu and thank you for stopping by my neighbourhood.
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Thank you very much 🙏
Miracle's still exist
I believe in miracles
I do too!
Thank you very much 🙏
Thank you very much 🙏
What a beautiful story! I lived every word and even though I don't have children, I can imagine your happiness in having one. Sometimes societies don't know how much words can assault. May the magic of life always be with you. Greetings
Thank you very much for this beautiful comment! 🙏