Most of us know the story of Hannah, the wife of Elkanah, who longed for a child but was barren. In her despair, she fervently prayed to God, promising that if He granted her a son, she would dedicate him to His service. God heard her plea and blessed her with a son named Samuel. At some point in my life, I related to Hannah.
In the early days of our courtship, my husband and I embarked on a conversation that would shape our future. The topic? The prospect of having children. Together, we dreamt of a beautiful family, envisioning three precious little souls—two boys and a girl. We even agreed on a specific order: the firstborn would be a boy, followed by a girl, and finally, another precious boy. Our hearts swelled with excitement as we discussed and visualized our future, already feeling the immense love we would have for our children. In our minds, they had names, personalities, and a place in our hearts that felt so real.
Buoyed by hope and faith, we decided to take our dreams to a higher power. So, with a month's passing since that conversation, we went to pray for our yet-unborn children, seeking divine intervention. And you know what? God, in His infinite grace, answered our prayers. Don’t ask me how I knew. In an unexplainable way, I always know when God has answered me or not.
From that moment onward, our future plans, endeavors, and conversations all revolved around our anticipated little ones. Even on our dates, the subject of having a child somehow managed to find its way into our conversations. We would muse about how wonderful it would be to have our child with us, experiencing life's joys alongside us. In our hearts, we had already formed a bond with our firstborn, whom we affectionately named Cherub, drawing inspiration from the protective angels in the garden of Eden. In the mundane moments of our daily lives, it was not uncommon to hear one of us say, "Cherub will like this" or "I'll tell Cherub about that." Our child had become an integral part of our lives long before conception was even possible.
Years passed, and when the time was right, we exchanged vows and became husband and wife. It's a common expectation that after marriage, couples either acquire a toaster or embark on the journey of starting a family. Since we had had a toast, we went for making a complete family. With great anticipation, we began trying to conceive. Month after month, our hopes rose and fell as we faced disappointment. The first month brought no baby, nor did the second or third. With each passing month, the weight of our expectations grew heavier, and the realization dawned upon me—faithfully walking with God through this journey was far more challenging than I had ever imagined.
Nevertheless, my faith remained unwavering. Deep within me, I held on to the belief that we would be blessed with a child. But the passage of time started to conflict with my hopeful thoughts. Desperation began to cloud my heart, and tears often accompanied me as I fell asleep. It felt as if my dreams were slipping away, slipping from my grasp. Yet, when we least expected it, four months into our marriage, a glimmer of hope emerged—a positive pregnancy test. We were overjoyed as the doctor confirmed that indeed, a baby was growing within me.
Pregnancy proved to be a relatively smooth journey for me. Aside from some adjustments to my diet in the first trimester, I experienced no bouts of nausea or physical discomfort. Even in the final trimester, when my body swelled with the weight of new life, I managed to endure the changes with grace. When the time for delivery arrived, it unfolded like a perfectly orchestrated symphony. On the 27th of March, we found ourselves admitted to the hospital, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our long-awaited child. And on the 29th of March, at around 11:30 a.m., our baby boy made his grand entrance into the world.
Witnessing the sheer joy that a tiny human being brings to so many lives was nothing short of magical. Our parents and siblings gathered around, their hearts brimming with love and anticipation. They took turns holding baby Cherub, cheering, playing, and offering prayers of gratitude. In that moment, the words of Hannah from ancient times echoed in my own heart: "For this child, I prayed, and God has granted the desires of my heart."
The journey we undertook had taught me invaluable lessons—lessons that transcended mere conception and pregnancy. I learned that the road to parenthood is not always a linear one. Conceiving does not guarantee a pregnancy, and a pregnancy does not always culminate in the birth of a child. On the morning of March 28th, as I prepared for delivery, the harsh reality hit me with a profound impact. In that same hospital, a grieving mother mourned the loss of her precious baby, and another woman tragically lost her life while delivering premature twins. In the face of such heart-wrenching experiences, I couldn't help but pray for God's will to be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. And through it all, I discovered the power of gratitude and appreciation for the blessings we receive, no matter how challenging the journey.
Today, I write these words to etch this incredible journey into my memory forever. And in sharing this story, I hope it serves as a source of comfort, inspiration, or encouragement for someone out there who may be walking a similar path. For in the tapestry of life, even amidst the trials and uncertainties, there is always room for hope, faith, and the resilience of the human spirit.
Sending you love and hugs!