Wanjiku Wanderi is a Kenyan-born mom raising her family in Denmark. She is a journalist, blogger, photographer and describes herself as having a ‘passion for all things Divinity, Africa and Journalism’.
When she was a new mom, Wanjiku did not have it easy during her first days of motherhood. She faced a challenge that many new mothers face –that of getting breastfeeding right. Though based in Denmark now, she was living in her hometown of Nyeri at that time. She offers us a glimpse of her breastfeeding experience then.
“I always thought breastfeeding was child’s play and I’d pick it up as soon as baby was out. Little did I know it was an art that needed to be perfected by both baby and mama. I had no one to show me how to make baby latch properly from the breastfeeding onset, and this resulted in me having extremely cracked nipples and engorged breasts. Breastfeeding became a nightmare – a blood, sweat and tears ritual. Literally! I would cry every time my baby opened his mouth to suckle.
My in-laws politely told me that if I chose to formula feed, it wouldn’t make me less of a mother. True, but I desperately needed to give exclusive breastfeeding a shot.
Thankfully, one of my friends came to my rescue and recommended that I see a lactation consultant, which I did. I contacted Susan Muriithi, a breastfeeding counsellor and lactation consultant at Toto Touch and who is passionate about helping mothers and children. Susan is based in Nairobi and after I spoke to her, she graciously drove all the way from Nairobi at 4am to where I was in Nyeri and she arrived by 6am.
Susan taught me the ropes of successful breastfeeding. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t sought professional help. Perhaps the pain trauma would have inevitably led me to exclusively formula feed. All I know is that I am glad that I asked for help.
Following Susan’s advice, my son was able to exclusively breastfeed for five months. We overcame many challenges, including but not limited to: letdowns, expressing and increasing milk flow through the lessons that were taught to me by Susan.
I wish lactation consultants such as Susan would be dispensable to all nursing mother’s before they left the hospital with their newborns. It would save a lot of people the grief of poor breastfeeding techniques.
To all the moms who are breastfeeding, I would encourage you to seek help and advice if you are experiencing any challenges. Don’t be afraid to reach out.”
You can read more of Wanjiku’s motherhood experiences and her reflections on various aspects of life on her blog here.
Susan Muriithi can be reached on susan@tototouch.co.ke
*Photos courtesy: Wanjiku Wanderi.
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Kenyan raised mom Nabubwaya Chambers told us about her pregnancy and birth experience, and more recently, about weaning him. Today, she lets us know how her son’s mobility is coming along. Nabubwaya lives in Texas with her husband and her nine month-old son Lema.
“August was a wonderful month for my family. Lema finally turned 9 months. He is cruising and crawling at neck breaking speed. This speed has dramatically increased to the point of me having to run after him after he sneaks past my watchful eye. This is usually my regular work out session. No need for the gym.
Lema is Crawling!
I have noticed that Lema has adapted two different crawling styles, which he professionally unleashes every time he is on the move. When he is playing and crawling on the carpeted area of our home, he crawls on all fours. On the other hand, when he moves to the hard floor, which I am sure is colder than the carpet, he raises his left knee and adapts the leapfrog crawl.
This one is a new one to us. We asked each other, “is this a new developmental phase?” Baba Lema and I have never seen any baby crawl like this before. We all have an idea of what a curious mama does on a daily basis. She googles and bings away at every new revelation. I googled for hours to ensure I had access to all the latest research findings of the leapfrog crawl. I didn’t know it was called the leapfrog crawl until I read my findings.
Separation Anxiety
We have also noted that separation and stranger anxiety that are common at this age have clearly been redefined. They have been taken to a whole new level. Lema is very attached to us so when our friends come over to visit, he clings onto both of us and seems a bit apprehensive. It takes a few tries of persuasion speech for him to warm up to our friends and allow them to carry or play with him. Amidst all these newfound milestones, Lema has made good friends and is certainly aware of his environment. He is very observant and seems to soak in every moment of the day that passes by. His favorite word of the day is Mama. We have been trying to get him to say Baba but he persistently repeats Mama. How about we just let him develop at this own pace?
I celebrated my birthday in August too; the very first one as a mother. Since one of the things that has been very elusive since I became a mom is sleep, my two boys ensured I got extended hours of sleep during my birthday week, which was so wonderful and I enjoyed the surprises that filled that warm, lovely week.
Returning to School
I will soon be resuming my studies again, which will be my first time in school as Mama Lema. I am undertaking studies in Public Health, and I know that I am in for a life-changing process for sure. While the rest of the world sleeps at night, I will be busy juggling everything else like study time, part time work, and research. My days will definitely be spent with Lema and I know I will take his nap times very seriously. The proverbial nap and all the advices I was given by anyone who has gone before me will be faithfully applied. I will nap when he naps. Even Dr. Oz’s 10 minute power naps will be observed. No jokes!
As we approach a new season, we anticipate God to guide us and see us through it. We are taking it a step at a time. I don’t think there is a manual outlining clear steps of how to raise your baby day by day. Nine months into parenting has allowed us the chance to fully realize that there is grace enough for everything we need. Cheers to all the hard work and persistence that parents employ globally.”
Those have been quite some very busy last three weeks for me! I have been involved in some projects that have taken up a huge chunk of my time -and good projects at that.
The first was involvement in some media work around the First Lady Margaret Kenyatta’s Beyond Zero Campaign. I’m sure you may have come across information that the First Lady has been delivering mobile clinics to various counties across the country.
Remember she ran two marathons earlier this year that helped her raise funds for her Beyond Zero Campaign? With these funds, she was able to purchase ten mobile health clinics. These clinics will help bring maternal and child health services closer to women and children –especially those in rural areas who have to trek long distances to reach health facilities.
Once delivered in these counties, the Beyond Zero mobile clinics are supposed to go round the county according to set schedules and essentially, ensure they reach all women and children in the county, penetrating into those hard-to-reach areas.
So far, the First Lady has delivered these clinics in the six counties of Taita Taveta, Narok, Samburu, Homa Bay, Baringo and Isiolo.
The First Lady’s agenda is to ensure that all 47 counties receive a mobile clinic each, meaning she has to raise more funds. She’s currently preparing for another marathon in March 2015 for this noble cause. Did you participate in the last marathon? If you did, then know that your money is helping save the life of a mother and child somewhere. I didn’t run myself, but I will make sure I will do so in the next one.
The second project I was involved in is about fistula. The Flying Doctors Society of Africa (FDSA) and the Freedom from Fistula Foundation (FFF) have just concluded a free fistula medical camp in Kisii which was from 6 – 12 September 2014.
Obstetric fistula is a childbirth injury that develops because of prolonged and neglected labour which becomes obstructed. Obstructed labor is when the baby’s head constantly pushes against the woman’s pelvic bone during contractions. This action prevents blood flow to vital tissues. If ceaserean section is not accessible, there occurs destruction of vaginal tissue leading to the formation of a hole (fistula) between the bladder and birth canal. This then causes urine to leak continuously through the hole. When the same damage occurs between the rectum and the birth canal, feaces leak continuously from the rectum to the birth canal. Labour is said to be prolonged if it takes more than 24 hours. Majority of the patients with fistula often report to have labored for three to five days at home under assistance of relatives, neighbours, or traditional birth attendants. In most of these cases (95 per cent) the babies are born dead.
Well, I had a chance to travel to Kisii to see what the medical camp is like and also meet some of the women. First of all, I must say that I was impressed by Kisii County. It was my first time there and I totally loved the place. It’s beautiful and green and Kisii town is quite abuzz with activity, I actually thought I was still in Nairobi.
Anyways, I spent some days at the Kisii Level 5 Hospital which is where the fistula medical camp was taking place. The hospital is nice, clean and it’s theatre looked more impressive than some of the private hospitals I have been to here in Nairobi.
So I got to meet some of the fistula patients. Many of them have lived for years with this debilitating condition and it was interesting to listen to them express their joy at the impending surgery and for those who had already been operated on, see the happy smiles on their faces as they looked forward to their ‘new’ life, a life which will no longer consist of them cutting old blankets, sweaters, tee-shirts and rugs to contain the leaking urine and faeces.
However, the case of one particular patient deeply disturbed me. It was that one of little four year old girl who had been raped by a 16 year-old neighbor. Both her front and her back had been ripped apart and she now had both vaginal fistula (vesicovainal fistula -VVF) as well as rectal fistula (rectovaginal fistula -RVF) meaning that she leaked both urine and faeces. All as a result of rape. A four year-old. Sad.
It was really a heartbreaking moment seeing that little innocent girl laying in that bed and listening to her 20 year-old mother recount the harrowing details of the rape incident. Too sad. So that has been the last three weeks for me, pretty busy but glad to be intensely involved in my foremost passion –writing maternal and child health stories.
Otherwise how have you been? I hope you have been well, #DeadBeatKenya aside.
Imagine being in a road accident while pregnant. It is every woman’s worst nightmare. Photo journalist Phoebe Okall narrated a chilling account of how she survived a road accident last weekend. I have worked with Phoebe on a couple of stories so it was quite nerve-jangling to read her story. Phoebe was involved in a road accident last weekend while on the beat in Meru county. Here is Phoebe’s narration of that incident.
“It is Saturday evening and the day has been packed with events spearheaded by Meru County Governor Peter Munya. Ironically, the last event of the day for Mr. Munya is a ground-breaking ceremony for a road in Kianjai, Tigania West. Little do we know that a road accident involving seven journalists was just moments away.
While the governor was still addressing the gathering at Urru Stadium, we decide, all seven journalists, to go ahead of him since he is about to conclude his remarks. We call our driver and start off on a murrum road. But just a few kilometres on, the driver loses control of the sport utility vehicle, which swerves five or so times as the driver tries to avoid hitting pedestrians — women and children walking back home from the stadium.They have no idea that our driver is trying to steer clear of them.
‘Like a Movie’
All this time, we are in shock, and no one utters a word. I want to close my eyes, but the photojournalist in me won’t let me. I want to see what happens next. It’s like a movie, yet unfortunately for us, things are real — even the pain.
In under a minute, the vehicle hits a heap of soil excavated to make room for a road drainage system under construction. It flies up in the air, literally, and lands awkwardly on the co-driver’s side. I was initially seated right behind the driver, which means I end up on top of all three other journalists sharing a seat behind the driver. Our vehicle is a seven-seater, so one journalist is on the co-driver’s seat and two more are at the back right behind us.
I am 20 weeks pregnant.
I plead with colleagues not to step on my belly, as there is panic at that time, and everyone wants to get out of the car. The driver gets out through the broken windshield and pulls out the journalist who was seating next to him.
A woman who had been sitting at the rear with my colleague, Kennedy Kimanthi, starts screaming: “Ken is stuck, Ken is stuck.” I am scared and the shock makes me feel tense around my stomach. The driver is calling on me to get out, but I want to see if there is a way I can help Ken. I get out and go straight to the emergency door at the back.
I call on the people crowding around the car to help me pull the door and we managed to open it. A man tries to pull Ken, but he realises he might break his hand, stuck between the ground and the body of the car.
Several men lift the vehicle and Ken is pulled out.
All the time we are helping Ken, a strange thing is happening: some people are stealing our laptops, recorders, mobile phones and money. The driver has to slap a man trying to make away with a laptop.
I take a few shots of the vehicle, even as I am feeling some pain in my head, right shoulder and abdomen. I am yet to be sure whether my baby is safe.
Luckily, Good Samaritans arrive in a car and help us get to Meru Level Five Hospital. Ken and another journalist, who has a neck injury, are the first to be taken away. The second car to arrive belongs to an MCA. Four of us hop in. The driver and one other journalist follow us in the last car.
At the hospital, all of us are treated and discharged.”
And that is Phoebe’s story, as originally published in the Nation. Reading her story gave me the shivers. Yikes!!
Breastfeeding is the easiest, healthiest, cheapest, safest, most fascinating and delightful way to give your baby food. We all agree with that, right? But unfortunately, breastfeeding does not come easy for most moms. While it may seem like the most natural act that a new mother should have no problem with, when you start breastfeeding is when you know that it can be quite –eeerrrrrrr natural not! Starting with latching. How exactly is one supposed to navigate this latching issue that seems to pain (literally) many new moms?
Well, I talked to Susan Muriithi of Toto Touch. Susan is a registered nurse and a breastfeeding counselor or lactation expert. And she shares some insights on latching.
Signs of a Good Latch
The latch feels comfortable to you and it does not hurt or pinch. How it feels is more important than how it looks.
Your baby’s chest is against your body and baby does not have to turn his head while breastfeeding.
When your baby is positioned well, his mouth will be filled with breast. The tongue is cupped under the breast, although you might not see it.
You see little or no areola (depending on the size of your areola and the size of your baby’s mouth). If areola is showing, you will see more above your baby’s lip and less below.
You hear or see your baby swallow. Some babies swallow so quietly, a pause in their breathing may be the only sign of swallowing.
You see the baby’s ears “wiggle” slightly.
Your baby’s lips turn out like fish lips, not in you may not even be able to see the bottom lip.
Your baby’s chin touches your breast.
All the best with breastfeeding. I did exclusive breastfeeding my two sons, so I well know what the breastfeeding journey is like.
Incase you have any problems with breastfeeding or you have any questions, then you can get in touch with Susan (pictured left) on 0723 553 188 or susan@tototouch.co.ke
I met 35 year-old Lucy Ongaya and her two beautiful daughters Ruth and Chelsea two weeks ago. While her pregnancy with Ruth, now 13 years old had been relatively smooth, she had a life-changing experience with her second pregnancy.
This is her *story:
Lucy recalls her first pregnancy with her 13-year-old daughter, Ruth.
“It was a smooth pregnancy right from the beginning. I was 21, straight from college, and quite naive about matters of pregnancy.”
With little knowledge on the importance of antenatal care, Lucy began her clinic visits when she was four months pregnant, which is considered late.
It is recommended that women seek antenatal care as soon as they find out they are pregnant so that they can, among other requirements, begin taking iron and folic acid supplements critical in the first three months of gestation.
Thankfully, Lucy’s pregnancy proceeded without a hitch.
“I ate anything and everything I wished with little regard for my nutritional needs. On my exact due date, I walked into the hospital and a few hours later, I had my bouncing baby girl. With no complications for both mother and baby, we were discharged two days later,” she recalls.
When Lucy fell pregnant with her second child in 2010, she naturally assumed that the pregnancy would be just as seamless as the first one. Married and with a well-paying job that provided a good medical cover, Lucy had little to worry about.
“Because I was older and wiser now, I began my antenatal visits as soon as I found out that I was expecting. Aside from the guidance of my doctor, I had access to the internet, where I kept myself well-informed about the progress of my pregnancy,” she says.
It was a relatively smooth pregnancy, just like her first one.
However, when she was 30 weeks pregnant, Lucy noticed that a liquid she thought was urine was trickling down her legs. Worried, she informed her husband, a medical doctor, who immediately rushed her to hospital.
Waters breaking…
Her doctor informed her that her waters were breaking, meaning that the amniotic sac, which contains the fluid that protects the baby in the womb, had began tearing. This usually happens when the baby is full term and the mother goes into labour.
“After observation, the doctor told me that the leaking was not much and that with complete bed rest and close monitoring, I could still carry the pregnancy to term. After staying in hospital for four days, she was ready to discharge me but just before she did so, she decided to check the baby one last time.”
Lucy says that she sensed trouble when the doctor questioned her about the baby’s movements.
“As she tried to find my baby’s heartbeat, I became anxious when it took longer than usual. My fears were confirmed a few minutes later when the doctor told me that she had to deliver my baby immediately.”
The doctor informed Lucy that the foetal heartbeat was faint, indicating that the baby was tired.
“I had not felt the baby kick since the previous day, so I knew that something was amiss. Delivering the baby via emergency Caesarean section was the only way to save it, the doctor said.”
The unexpected news shocked Lucy as she was not ready to welcome her child at that time.
“I pleaded with the doctor to delay the surgery for a few minutes to allow my husband to make his way to the hospital, but the doctor declined, saying it could not wait for even a minute. A short while later, I was wheeled into theatre, still reeling from the shock of it all,” she recalls.
When she came to several hours later, Lucy went to see her baby, delivered with a birth weight of 1,900 grammes. She was not prepared for what she found in the newborn special unit.
“I saw a tiny little thing that I was told was my baby. She was extremely thin, hairy, and was breathing rapidly. She had tubes all over her body. As I looked down at her, I wondered if it really was my child and what on earth I had given birth to,” she recalls.
Lucy was neither allowed to touch her baby or breastfeed her.
“I was numb from a variety of feelings: shock, disappointment, pity, love, anger, pain, worry… that was not the ending I had envisioned of my pregnancy. It was not the pregnancy outcome I had expected,” she says.
Emotional trauma
Lucy refused to visit her baby. “It was too devastating to look at her. I could not stand the sight of seeing her that way. For two days, I stayed in my hospital bed and completely refused to see her despite the encouragement of a team of nurses and doctors.”
During those two days, Lucy would stare at jovial mothers happily holding and nursing their healthy babies and would weep for hours on end.
“One time, I went to the nurses’ station and complained about one particular new mother who would receive many visitors. I felt bad because she was happy, yet there I was, with an extremely sick baby I spent every minute agonising over whether she would survive. I asked the nurses to stop this mother from receiving any more visitors. Now that I look back, I realise that I did that out of frustration,” she says.
Due to her prematurity, most of her daughter’s organs were not fully developed. She could not feed on breast milk as she could not digest anything but glucose. She had jaundice and was found to have holes in the heart. She also developed a severe blood infection, which saw her undergo six blood transfusions during her six-week stay in hospital. Several times her veins blocked and caused the blood and medication to flow into her tissues, causing her lifetime scars.
Lucy recalls the day she was discharged without her baby.
“I felt so sad and empty. I had done everything right to ensure that I had a healthy pregnancy, yet I was leaving my baby in an incubator, very ill. It was a very painful experience,” she says.
Each day, Lucy would report to the hospital at 6am and leave at 10pm. At home, she would endure sleepless nights.
“I would hear voices in my head mocking me about leaving my baby in hospital. Why was I sleeping in my bed, yet my daughter was alone, her only companion tubes and machines? What kind of mother was I to leave my sick daughter? What if she woke up and cried for me? Would anyone hear her? Would anyone comfort her? These are some of the thoughts that bombarded my mind all night long,” she says.
Lucy would stay awake, counting the minutes to dawn.
“I approached my daughter’s bed each morning stealthily, scared that I would not find her. This is because there are days when I would leave the hospital at night and when I returned in the morning, I would find one of the babies missing, a baby whom I knew was not yet ready to be discharged. My heart would be filled with panic, fearing the worst for my baby,” she remembers.
Lucy shut people out of her life, only relating with her immediate family.
“I knew people were concerned about me and wanted to console me, but I shut them out because I wanted to deal with issues on my own and not have too many people around me,” she says.
Lucy was finally able to hold her baby for the first time after a month.
“I cannot explain the feeling that overcame me when I held her in my arms and pulled out my breast for her to suckle. I cried like I had never cried before. The moment was surreal,” she explains.
Two weeks later, her daughter, Chelsea, was strong enough to be discharged, ending her six-week stay in hospital. The once-sick girl whom her mother feared would not survive is today a healthy, happy three-year-old who has never suffered any major ailment.
Lucy spends time sharing her experience with pregnant women and mothers of premature babies.
“I want the women to know that the pregnancy may not turn out as they expect and that they should be prepared for any eventuality. I suffered lots of anguish because I kept asking myself what I had done wrong, yet I had taken good care of myself. For mothers with premature babies, I tell them not to blame themselves for sometimes pregnancy complications are beyond their control. They should not feel guilty about it.”
Support programme for moms with premature babies
Lucy says she wishes hospitals had a support programme for mothers of premature babies.
“The nurses and doctors focus on the baby and do not pay attention to the mother. Mothers feel lost and emotionally abandoned. Medics forget that the mother’s emotional wellbeing is just as important to help her nurture her newborn to good health. They should have counsellors on standby to help mothers cope with the strenuous emotions they go through as they care for their sick babies, worrying if they will die,” she says.
The mother also has to deal with issues such as ensuring that older children are well taken care of and that the home continues to run well. Lucy also has to deal with unexpected financial responsibilities.
“Most medical insurance does not cover pregnancy-related complications. I had a good cover, but they did not pay our hospital bill. Chelsea would incur expenses of about Sh20,000 a day. We had to take a loan to pay the hospital bill.”
The support of family and friends is important. All manner of support — emotional, physical, and even financial — can go a long way in helping the mother deal with the unexpectedness of a premature birth, Lucy says.”
*I originally published this article in The Daily Nation.
Mummy Talesis a blog dedicated to empowering its readers on different aspects of maternal and newborn health, as well as various issues surrounding motherhood and women. Read more motherhood experiences of Kenyan momshere.
Did you lose your identity once you became a mom? Do you find that people (including your husband) have since stopped calling you by your name and now call you Mama so and so? And if you are mother to more than one child, does your name keep changing to mama this and mama that? Let’s read about one mother of three daughters –Makena Barasa and her interesting name evolution.
“How many children do you have? If you have none, then your identity is still intact. If like me you have three kids, then you lost it long time ago. You see, I go by different names, depending on who I am interacting with.
I started out by the names my mum gave me. I was Makena for a cool 25 years. Then motherhood happened and one fine Tuesday morning my aunt came to see me in hospital…
“Hello Mama Michelle!” she excitedly exclaimed.
But I did not respond.
Never mind that a few hours before a pretty little princess had been placed in my arms. Before this awesome day, I had already known the gender of my unborn child and I had told all and sundry that my baby would be called Michelle (a name the dad had chosen while we were dating with no idea we would one day be parents to a real Michelle). So after my aunt’s expression, that is when it occurred to me that I was actually a mum and it was me she was calling! It was also the beginning of a sure diminishing of my pretty maiden identity. I instantly changed from Makena to Mama Michelle.
So for the next five years I was Mama Michelle, especially in the neighbourhood. I am yet to understand why we are identified by our children’s names but I am damn proud to be called so.
Then in came my second born Amanda (a name also chosen when my husband and I were dating) and when she became of age, could talk and play, her play mates quickly gave me a name: Mama Amanda. So to some in the neighborhood, I was Mama Amanda. And I was still Mama Michelle.
Then, their other sister Maya came in close enough after Amanda and she also got her own troop who call me Mama Maya.
Now figure this out: My three girls are out playing with their friends and their sweet little voices are screaming from every corner, Hi Mama Michelle, in other corner, Hi Mama Amanda and from another and Hi Mama Maya from the other corner!! You’d quickly think that those are three different mothers. But no. It is just me. One mother with three different identities. The same scencario is replicated in school and in church.
And then, to my husband, I quickly stopped being ‘Babe’ (unless when his children are not around) and I became ‘mum’. I don’t know why he thinks I can be his mother, because I will never be (she has her place), but I guess he is also as confused as I am when it comes to referring to each other. You see, long time ago he was my babe, honey and all those terms. Now he is mostly dad! It is hard to send my gal ati ‘go tell my babe a.b.c.’ It is always: ‘go tell dad this and this’. So, just as he participated in making me lose my identity, he lost his too.
Though the other day my daughter who was playing with my phone brought it and she said ‘Mum, your hubby is calling’. Then she proceeded, ‘please tell dad to bring us Oreo!’ I changed how I had saved him (He was babe) to hubby when my girls started asking who that baby who kept calling me every so often was! That is their curious nature!
Make no mistake, I love my brand identities… I cannot trade being Mama one over the other. I love being Mama to all three of them. They present different joys and challenges. They are my constant reminders that God chose me to be His co-creator. They constantly remind me to pray for that woman who longs to be called Mama. That He will fill her arms with these little bundles.
My curiosity though is about that mother of ten kids, like my grandma. I kept asking her how she remembered to serve all her children. She once told me something I hold so dearly till today. ‘A mother can never forget her children, even when they are in their tens. She will know them by their names.’ So ladies…enjoy motherhood and its ability to totally give you more than one identity, and at times, varied personalities!”
And what about you? What do people call you? Do you relate with Makena’s experiences?
When award-winning Kenyan fashion and lifestyle blogger Nancie Mwai was pregnant, I often liked checking into her blog to see what she was wearing. And she never disappointed. She usually looked stylish -tandem with her fashion unique fashion sense. Nancie was blessed with a daughter in April 2014. Here’s a peak of some of the outfits she rocked during her pregnancy.
So what do you think of Nancie’s pregnancy style? Which outfit of hers do you like most?
I recently met one amazing lady who shared her life’s journey with me. As I listened to her story, I was amazed at how honest someone can be about their past life. Lilian is an open book, not afraid to share details about her life that include prostitution, alcohol and drugs. This is her story.
*If you have a story you’d like to share, you can email me on maryanne@mummytales.com and I’ll be in touch.
When 37-year-old Lilian Madonye took her marriage vows 14 years ago, she looked forward to the exciting life that lay ahead of her. In her early twenties, she was marrying the man of her dreams, an athlete whom she had courted for two years. The wedding marked the beginning of her new life, a life that would be filled with untold happiness from both her husband and the beautiful babies they would raise together.
Lillian, a second born in a family of three, had been raised in a relatively comfortable upbringing in Eldoret town. Her father, a banker, and her nurse mother had provided them with a stable home and good education. Nurtured in a Christian environment, Lilian was a role model in her school, neighbourhood and church where she served as a worship leader. And her marriage did not disappoint.
The first year was full of love, warmth and laughter. However, in the second year, the couple became worried when they were unable to conceive. After trying for a baby for three years in vain, Lilian decided to seek professional help and saw a doctor who put her on fertility drugs and supplements. However, the desire for a baby became a dominant, crippling thought which consumed her whole being.
“Sex became a laborious task that was no longer enjoyable because of the pressure to conceive. Family, friends, neighbours and church members were already spreading rumours about my barrenness,” she remembers.
Meanwhile, Lilian kept hopping from one doctor to another seeking a miracle treatment, but none helped her conceive.
“The day I would receive my period each month would send me to a very dark place where I would spend the duration of the menses in tears. Helpless, I wondered what worth I was as a woman if I could not bear a child. What justification did I have to call myself a woman if I could not have a child?” she asked herself.
Frustrated and at her wits end, she one day asked her husband to take a fertility test if only to encourage him to be part of their quest for a baby.
“Even though I knew I was the one with the problem because I believed that infertility was a condition only for women, I asked him to get tested anyway.” But the results of the semen analysis test on her husband shocked her.
“My husband had a low sperm count, hence my difficulty in conceiving! The news took me aback because all along I thought I was the one with the problem!”
A low sperm count decreases the odds of a sperm fertilizing an egg which results in pregnancy. Lilian’s husband was put on fertility treatment aimed at boosting his sperm count.
At the same time, out of curiosity, Lilian decided to take a fertility test as well, and whose results showed that she was perfectly capable of conceiving and bearing a child.
“I stopped all the drugs I was taking. I wished we had both done the tests earlier as it would have saved me the countless medication I had pumped into my body for three years!”
For the next two years, the couple continued trying for a baby, but were unsuccessful. During this time, their marriage began undergoing turmoil.
“We would constantly engage in verbal confrontations about anything and everything. We were both frustrated and very desperate about wanting a baby. At some point, the fights became physical. Our marriage became filled with extreme tension and anger. We both became very unhappy in our union. There were infidelity issues and I was constantly rebuking women with whom my husband was having dalliances with. We stopped talking and even slept in separate rooms. I felt there was nothing left to hold on to and I eventually walked out of my marriage.”
Lilian then moved to Nairobi where she landed a job as a sales representative in a bank. Older, wiser and with her newfound freedom — her faith in God long gone, Lilian took to alcohol and drugs. A short while later, she got a transfer to Mombasa.
“As soon as I landed in the beautiful Coastal city, I met up with people who introduced me to a wide variety of hard drugs which were easily accessible unlike in Nairobi. Soon, I began engaging in prostitution to finance my new lifestyle as my salary could obviously not cater for my needs. I would have multiple affairs with married men who would take care of my different financial needs.
Despite being aware of the dangers, I would have unprotected sex with my partners. I didn’t care about HIV, venereal diseases or drug overdoses because I had nothing to live for. With no husband and no children, my life had no meaning,” she confesses.
Lilian says she was on a constant high because when sober, the reality of her empty life would hit her, something she did not want to face. One morning after a night out, she began feeling sick.
“I knew that AIDS had finally caught up with me,” she remembers. Lilian went to the hospital, but the doctor’s diagnosis shocked her. She recalls his words:
“Lilian, your HIV test is negative. But there is another test that has yielded positive results. Congratulations, you are pregnant!” She did not believe it.
“I was living a very evil life, engaging in all the abominable acts mentioned in the Bible, but yet God remembered me? I wondered why, yet when I was a good Christian, faithful in my marriage and with enviable morals, he ignored me. But now, when I was fully immersed in sin, he remembered me?”
Shocked to the bone, Lilian decided to sober up for the sake of her unborn baby. She packed all her belongings and moved back to Nairobi to start a new life.
She got back her old sales job at the bank, and began piecing her life together, which was not easy. “I was used to men taking care of all my bills, but now I had to support myself and my unborn baby. It became very difficult to make ends meet, but I did not despair. My baby motivated me and kept me going,” she says.
One day, in her seventh month of pregnancy, she noticed some blood stains. She rushed to hospital, and by the time she got there, her clothes were soaked in blood and she was writhing in pain.
An ultrasound done on the foetus revealed that Lilian’s baby was already dead. Lilian had faced high blood pressure issues during the pregnancy, which led to her having pre-eclampsia, a condition characterised by a high level of protein the urine and which can be fatal.
But she had to deliver the baby anyway, and after six agonising days, she gave birth. “It was a baby girl. Even though I wanted to see her and hold her in my arms, the doctors refused and only showed me her legs. They said that because she had been dead for long, she was already decomposed and in a bad state. I called her Zawadi, because she was my special gift,” she says, struggling to contain the tears welling up in her eyes.
As she walked out of the hospital on that day in May 2012, Lilian left with a new resolve. To completely turn her life around and find her purpose in life again.
“I don’t blame anyone for the path I took in life. I am responsible for all the decisions I made. I could have made better choices, but I did not. I have forgiven myself and I am embracing my new life.”
Today, Lilian supports women struggling with infertility. She encourages them to focus on other areas of their lives even as they try for a baby.
“The reality is that not all women struggling with infertility will have a happy ending where they will get pregnant and have babies. I encourage women not to be consumed by the search for a baby to the extent that other areas of their life suffers. They should also not peg their worth as women solely on the basis of motherhood. I talk to women during bridal showers and talk to newlyweds about marriage expectations. I always use my personal experiences because I know I contributed to the loss of my marriage and advice them not to make the mistakes I made. I am a strong believer in marriage and just because mine did not work, it does not mean that it will not work for another couple,” she concludes.”
NB: I originally published this article in The Star.
Mummy Talesis a platform dedicated to empowering its readers on different aspects of womanhood and motherhood. Read more motherhood experiences of Kenyan momshere. Connect with Mummy Tales on: FACEBOOK lYOU TUBE l INSTAGRAM l TWITTER
Did you catch the very informative piece by Rose Wangui of NTV titled ‘Birth to Death’ -part 1 last Sunday where she focused on the pregnancy and childbirth journey for women in Wajir?
Incase you missed it, here it is.
Kudos to Rose Wangui for highlighting this issue very well.
Part 2 of Rose Wangui’s Birth to Death was aired on 7 September 2014.
I didn’t run myself, but I will make sure I will do so in the next one.
