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It was three months, when I found out I was pregnant with a baby boy. God! My heart was at ease for a moment, when the Doctor told me that I am expecting a young hero. All I wanted was to meet my son already. I was imagining my soccer star and I was a proud mom to be.

The pregnancy finally kicked in, I started having swollen feet, cravings, hormones, mood swings and my breasts were getting bigger. Around the fourth month, my belly started to show. I could feel my little champ. I started reading pregnancy books and I'd read bedtime stories to him. I learnt so much about pregnancy and also learned to communicate with him. I would ask him to kick and he would respond. Such an experience is worth dying for.

As time went by, I had no one to turn to, but my son. I had to choose him over everything else. I was so happy in my life, he was the only thing that kept me going or could make sense in my life. I had no job, but I kept on going. I wanted him to be in my hands. In my mind, everything was well, but who was I fooling? Because deep down I was having some stress, but I chose to be ignorant.

Just when I thought everything else was fine, the miscarriage happened. I was just five and a half months pregnant, I felt pain, I was bleeding. I decided to sleep on it. I will go to the Doctor the following day. In the morning I woke up after I prayed so hard to God to save my son. I begged him to kick, but he didn’t respond. I still had some hope left in me, but faith was long gone.

When I got to the Doctor it was too late for my son, nothing could save him. I was sent to the hospital immediately. I was confused. I couldn't speak. Tears were falling over my cheeks. I didn't know whether to pray or not. I had no words. Instead, I looked up and cried because I couldn't understand why this was happening to me.

After a few moments at the hospital, the Doctor told me that my baby is coming anytime soon. I couldn't believe it, but I kept on praying. At around 02:45, my son arrived and that is where I believed that he was no more. The nurse held him and brought him to me, so that I could see him.

As I took a glimpse of him.......He looked exactly like his father. He was cute with a tiny little nose, cute lips, my charmer boy. I kept on looking at him then I started realising that my son's soul is at peace, the way his eyes were closed, I wished I could wake him up and talk to him, but he was just lying there quiet. At the very same moment, I started crying as they took him away from me. The weather changed and it started raining. I was looking into the sky and I saw shining stars, I knew that my son's soul was resting in peace.

I then realised that I had no child and I was all alone. My mind was disturbed, my heart was shattered, my soul was never ready for this kind of pain, I knew that my body would never heal. The miscarriage destroyed me. My heart died the day, I lost my son. A part of me was taken away from me. God never trusted me with his life. I wanted to die too, I lost my mind, I had no feelings.

I couldn't eat nor move, I was so numb. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, I will always do. My wish was to hold him, squeeze him and let him feel my love for him inside of my heart. That was the worst pain I've ever felt and I wished that no one, not even my worst enemy would have to face that pain. The Miscarriage Destroyed Me.


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