For many women, becoming a mother isn’t as straightforward as they had always imagined it would be when they were younger. After suffering two heartbreaking miscarriages, Berrita, 34, was convinced that motherhood would just never be for her. And so when she conceived for the third time, she found herself holding her breath, worried that history would repeat itself. Did it? This is her story, as shared with Maryanne W. Waweru.
“My journey to motherhood was not an easy one. In fact, at some point, I never thought I would ever be called ‘mother’, something that I desired so much. The reason I say this is because I lost my first two pregnancies through miscarriage -the first one at nine weeks and the second at 11 weeks.
At the hospital, they would clean me up without ever clearly explaining to me why I was losing my pregnancies. I would just be told to make sure I ate well and did not do heavy duties to reduce the chances of another miscarriage. Losing both my pregnancies was so saddening, I don’t even like thinking about it.
When I conceived for the third time, I feared it would end the same way, though I avoided such thoughts as I didn’t want to jinx myself.
So I held on to hope. I ate well, took all my supplements and avoided heavy, straining chores. I was over the moon when I reached 12 weeks -something that had never happened before.
I nevertheless continued being cautious, doing everything possible to make sure the baby stayed in. You can imagine how happy I was when I got to 20 weeks. Weren’t those five months? I showed off my belly proudly. God had done it for me.
At 24 weeks, I remember going shopping for baby clothes -something that I hadn’t been able to do before. At Toi market, I finally got to enjoy the experience, something that I had wanted to do for so long. I selected the clothes as we chatted and shared laughter with other expectant moms. I was finally going to join the prestigious ‘mother’s club’ -a community that I had only been looking on from the outside for years.
It’s happening again
Well, barely a week later, my body started giving signs that something wasn’t right. It was a familiar feeling; a strong pressure in my pelvic area. Not pain, just intense pressure. I broke down in tears. I knew what was happening inside my body. No, not again!
When I went to the hospital, they didn’t waste time reassuring me that I just relax, that I would be fine. I wanted to believe them, but I had heard those words twice before, and things hadn’t been fine.
This time though, something different happened. The medic who saw me said that he suspected my cervix was dilating early, and suggested that I be reviewed by a doctor who had more experience in managing high-risk pregnancies. He was a general physician, and he referred me to a gynaecologist. He however warned me that I would need to dig deeper into my pockets as specialists don’t come cheap.
Nothing was going to stop me from becoming a mother. I was ready to part with my savings.
Read another cervical stitch story: Selina Ojwang and the stitch in time that prevented her miscarriage
For sure, the new doctor confirmed that indeed, my cervix was already dilating. I didn’t even fully understand what that meant at the time, but I could see it in his face. He said something like I had an incompetent cervix, and suggested that I immediately get a cervical stitch.
Everything moved very fast after that. I had to get an emergency stitch placed, what I came to learn is called a McDonald stitch. I had never even heard of it before. Maybe if I had had gotten cervical stiches before, my other pregnancies could have been saved? Anyway, I chose not to dwell on that, because it would only cause me unnecessary stress.
Recovering from cervical stitch procedure
After the procedure, I was put on complete bed rest. And when they say complete, they mean it. As in complete complete. No moving around at all. My world became confined to my 5 x 6 bed. Thank God I had recently bought a new set of bedsheets and duvets from Kamukunji. The new linen at least brightened up my days, which were otherwise filled with panic, prayers and bargaining with God. I would tell Him that I would do anything for Him if He let my baby survive.
As the days went by, any unusual feeling would cause me such panic. Was this it? Was I losing this one too? Fear dominated me as I counted the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds…
But I held on and followed the doctor’s instruction like my life depended on it, because, it actually did.
Well, we made progress. I prayed and didn’t take anything for granted and before I knew it, I had reached 30 weeks. Then 32 weeks. Then 35 weeks!
That cervical stitch had changed everything.
Finally, at 38 weeks, my body went into labor naturally. I remember being in disbelief, like, was this really happening? Was I going to become a mom?
When I held my son in my arms, everything stood still. I was finally a mother. I cried for days.
My son is two years old and I still find myself tearing up to date. I have not tried getting pregnant again, maybe for fear of another disappointment. I’m just content with this little one that I have -for now at least.
To all women out there who hope to become mothers someday, I hold you very closely in my heart. May it happen for you too. Hugs.”
Also read: “Tomorrow, I lose my uterus” -a Kenyan mum’s journey before surgery
If you have gone through a pregnancy experience that you would like to share (even anonymously) to encourage another woman, write to me at maryanne@mummytales.com
Mummy Tales by Maryanne W. Waweru is a platform dedicated to empowering its readers on different aspects of womanhood and motherhood. Read more motherhood experiences of Kenyan moms here. Connect with Mummy Tales on: FACEBOOK l YOU
Featured image: Ceaser Photography on Pexels
