When Halima Odejimi got married in 2004, she already had her eyes on raising a family early. But her expectations were cut short a year after her wedding when she suffered a miscarriage. From then, her waiting period began. Aside suffering seven miscarriages, she also underwent series of painful medical procedures. In the midst of these trials, Sister Odejimi and her husband held on to their faith, believing that God would intervene and, indeed, God finally rewarded their trust in Him nine years later by blessing them with a baby boy–ModurodeOluwa. An ecstatic Mrs. Odejimi shares her story: Continue after the cut.
I got married in November 2004 and naturally expected to start a family. I was working as an architect in a start-up architectural firm with a lot of responsibilities on me. I got pregnant the following year without knowing. Owing to the rigours of my job, I began to bleed and subsequently lost the pregnancy. It was a very painful experience. After the incident, I resigned from the job. This began my waiting period as I expected that the next one would be an easy one.
My husband and I were determined to have our babies. Our first visit was to a gynaecologist who continually prescribed Clomid tablets and followed it up with Premolut. He also advised that I do a test called HSG which he said was both investigative and therapeutic.
On doing the HSG, it was discovered that there was a septum in my womb, which meant a form division in the womb. This implied that there was a difficulty in placenta attachment to the uterine wall by the foetus. We received the news with mixed feelings but believed that God was able to do the miraculous irrespective of the report.
Shortly after, I conceived again but miscarried soon afterwards. We tried other gynaecologists but the results were always miscarriages. A certain terminology was always used in the radiography reports: “Fetal pole not defined, blighted ovum observed.” I always tried to quickly forget the pain and loss of these pregnancies, which were at least seven that I can remember, all of which happened around the third month into the pregnancy.
In 2009, I decided to take my faith a step higher. I drove to Vitafoam head office in Ikeja to purchase two travel cots, mattresses and pillows in expectancy of our twin boys. My sister-in-law had always bought loads of baby clothes and accessories for me in expectancy of the twin boys just because I asked her to; she never questioned me but stood in faith with us.
We started breaking bread every day during our family devotion and this became our lifestyle. We always declared in prayers that our children would come, naming them one after the other. We usually broke the bread into the number of children we were believing God for and ate it on their behalf. Afterwards, we would thank God because we knew that they would come and partake of this same meal with us. This was our anchor, even when we received any contrary report; the Lord’s Table was and is our succour, our private celebration.
I continued to praise God in expectation of our miracle, bought so many baby things, designed and made up and painted the baby nursery in their baby colours, made the beds with the clothes of the baby on the bed, including their shoes, as if the babies were sleeping on the beds. We gave our twin boys names; we always called them forth with praise. I prayed in the room, did my confessions, placed ‘Baby on Board’ sticker on my car, and offered to babysit for family members and my friends. After a while, I began to get weary because I felt nothing was happening.
At a point, we were thinking of going to South Africa to correct the septum the report indicated was in my womb. We attempted to make arrangement to travel but my heart was not in it.
On one of our several visits to hospitals, I was introduced to a female gynaecologist, Dr Yemisi Bero, by my dear sister and prayer partner, Sis. Shade Ladelegan. Dr Bero advised that we immediately try a procedure called IUI–Intrauterine Insemination, which we did. She and her team prayed before the procedure and, after they finished, she asked my husband to pray. After a while, I got pregnant and was admitted in another hospital with a previous gynaecologist whom I was seeing earlier. But after two months on bed rest, I lost the pregnancy again. And that was the seventh time.
After this miscarriage my monthly period ceased. And for over six months, my prayer point shifted to God restoring my period. After that experience, I decided I was not going to any hospital anymore and said to myself that if God did not do it then I would live with it. Although my husband persuaded me to see another gynaecologist at the Lagos University Teaching Hospital (LUTH), I became weary because it was an uphill task to gain audience with him. Apart from the many tests and drugs to take, following up with him was difficult as one could wait an average of five to seven hours in to see him. I told myself that the doctor was not God.
Meanwhile, as I began to visualise my children, we kept sowing in family and friends’ children’s lives. We joined in the 12-12:30 midnight prayers for the country and other families. I purposely surrounded myself with mothers and sisters, who always stood in faith with me, using their children as points of contact.
I diligently took my prescribed vitamins and lots of fruits. In fact, I started a fruit business. I later decided to join the Children’s Church. After the many interviews, I was eventually admitted and received a warm welcome from the Head of Children’s Church and executives, who decided that I belonged to the toddlers’ class.
In January 2013, my husband suggested we try IVF as we had been advised to several times, but I was not into it. All I wanted was a miracle out of the Bible, like Hannah’s story. I kept confessing Hannah’s and Mary’s prayers, even when I was not pregnant
While we were on an out-of-town project, I realised I was not really myself so we had to return to Lagos. When we got back, I decided to do a home pregnancy test. I had never got such a fast POSITIVE result like that before. I decided I was not going to any hospital because I did not want to hear or experience any negative report. I told God that He would have to keep this pregnancy till full term without my going to the hospital because I was not ready to go through the previous experiences. My husband pleaded with me but I declined; I was done with their negative reports.
My husband then discussed it with Pastor Yemisi Akindolie who suggested that we go to one private hospital. After much persuasion, I agreed to go to the hospital. Immediately the doctor carried out a scan, we discovered that I was about four months pregnant and that the baby was very active. For the first time, I saw a live foetus. My husband and I were so excited. By this time, we were approaching our ninth wedding anniversary.
I was advised to go on complete bed rest. After a month another procedure was done to secure the baby in place. This they termed cervical cyclage, otherwise known as shirodska. Not too long after, I began to bleed. I became so worried and thought “Not again!” I prayed and stood in faith with my husband and trusted God that He would keep this pregnancy. I was admitted again in a couple of days and discharged.
Dr Yemisi insisted I go on complete bed rest but the restless person I am could not stand it. I would still take orders for fruit baskets, make fruit juices, smoothies, and do other normal house chores. One day, I got a call from Pastor Taiwo Odukoya. My husband was tired and had gone to report me to him. He called and said if I continued with my restlessness, he would personally come to my house and take me to the hospital. I then decided to comply because I did not want to be strapped on a bed.
On our bi-weekly antenatal consultation, my husband mentioned to the doctor that his Pastor suggested that we do a C-section on approaching 36 weeks, not wanting to take any chance with the mother or the baby. At 36 weeks, the shirodska was removed but the baby’s head had not turned round to the birthing position. Pastor reiterated they should bring the baby out because it had reached maturity. I said to myself, “Ooohhh! Pastor has come now o.” I wanted to push and do the Hebrew woman’s style. When we got home that day, I laid my hand on my womb and spoke to the baby’s head to turn down in the birthing direction.
Surprisingly, two days later (precisely on the 31th of October, 2013), my water broke dramatically at about 9:30pm when we were about retiring for the night. We rushed to the hospital and were told I was already 2cm dilated. I found it very awesome as I was not in any form of pain at all; I did not realise something was about to happen. There was no further dilation until the early hours of the 1st of November. We called the doctor that usually attended to me and he began to arrange for a C-section at 9am. He had contacted the specialist anaesthetist as we began the waiting game. Whilst waiting, the baby’s heart rate was observed at intervals. At a particular time, the devil wanted to play a trick on us. One of the nurses came in to observe the baby’s heart rate and said casually that she could not hear any heartbeat. My husband told her firmly that their equipment must be faulty and that she should go and change the batteries. She did and observed the baby’s heartbeat.
The doctor later called to say that the anaesthetist was experiencing a delay and so postponed the procedure till noon. The anaesthetist did not however come until 5:30pm. We later discovered that he actually flew in from Abuja and his flight was delayed since morning. The procedure was conducted and lasted for about 45 minutes. But I did not realise that I was bleeding uncontrollably because the placenta, which they said all these years could not implant well, had now implanted so much that they had to scrape it out of the womb wall for another hour and a half.
The doctor said that Pastor Taiwo was in the spirit when he said we should take the baby out earlier. According to him, if it was a normal delivery, it would have been written that the placenta refused to come out, and it would have been too late to start a C-section at the point of delivery to bring out the placenta or stop the bleeding. But because we serve a Mighty God, the Mighty Warrior, Great in battle, He delivered me.
Our baby’s name, our precious gift, is ModurodeOluwa, taken from Psalm 27:14 (in the Yoruba Bible). Indeed, he is worth the wait! Praise God.
Source: Fountain of Life Church Lagos.