It’s the hope that kills you. Hoping and praying that when you go and pee, your tissue won’t turn red…again. It’s going through all the symptoms of pregnancy and you spend hours on the internet scrolling the difference between being pregnant and PMS symptoms. Why are they exactly the same? How does your social media timeline know that pregnancy is your Achilles’ heel? Everyone and their father in law is pregnant! Except you obviously. Physically, everything is fine. You should get pregnant with no issue at all. But that’s not happening, so you look to the spiritual.
I’ve prayed. I’ve fasted. I’ve given everything I have and then some. Psalm 127:3 says, “Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.” So… not having kids is a punishment? What is the reward for? What have I not done to earn this reward? Where am I missing it? Why giveth when you’re just going to taketh away?
I can’t breathe.
Now you’re resentful. Of God, of yourself, of everyone. Now you’re mean as a snake. You’re playing God because why are people who don’t want kids or people who can’t afford those kids so fertile? Even my mom, who shouldn’t have had kids was as fertile as the Nile. She shouldn’t have had me. All I’m seeing is shege. I’m exhausted from being the curse breaker in this obviously God forsaken bloodline. I understand that you’ve had it with my bloodline but why did you choose me to be the one to end the generation? It’s one generation too late. I can’t bear children neither can I bear the curses of this bloodline.
I’m stuck in this cycle. Pregnant, not pregnant, crying for weeks on end and it feels like the sun will never shine again. I can’t enjoy the sex because it’s starting a new round of Russian roulette with damp panties. Will it be discharge orbleeding out again?
Confirmed. I’m now the woman with the issue of blood. Is it spotting? Am I bleeding out? Doesn’t take long to find out. The huge clots that look like liver can’t be normal. I’m falling apart and not just emotionally. I’m drained. I have nothing left to give.
And I go through it, by myself because how many times will I cry over the same damn thing every other month? Who stands in front of people publicly to say, I have failed at being a woman and a wife? There’s nothing I haven’t given. There’s nothing I haven’t done. And they were still not good enough.
People are having babies by accident and I’m giving it all I’ve got and still failing in a spectacular fashion. God has broken me. Humbled me. Shown me how fallible being a human is. This is the one thing money won’t buy me, science won’t fix for me and my brilliance won’t solve for me. Being the overachiever that I am, there’s nothing I can do to make this happen for myself. There isn’t a tear I haven’t cried or a part of my heart that hasn’t shattered.
I have lived the cruelty of God. Knowing that nothing is impossible for Him and he won’t do this for me. Not an answer. Not an explanation. Just his sheer cruel will. And now I get it, the desperation that drives women to sleep in a bush, naked for a week, eating nothing but berries to beg a witch for the fruit of the womb. I never understood the stories of women who are taken advantage of by charlatans who claim their penis can heal their womb. I shouldn’t have been so curious because God has taken it upon himself to take me through a practical to understand it personally. It’s a weird place to be in when you’re willing to do anything to have something. There’s truly nothing I wouldn’t give to be able to carry my own babies to term. Treacherous waters.
Once again, I’m not pregnant. I can’t decide what hurts more, my heart, the period cramps or my headache from crying inconsolably. It hurts in places I can’t take a painkiller for. I can’t bring life into this world and now I’m fighting for my life. I’m struggling to stay alive. What for?