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.
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