Motherhood: the mystery and the miracle of Mrs. Demeji

who would not be glad to have such wonderful gifts

Speaking to a number of married people on the plans of my blog on Saturday evening at A class park Maitama, Abuja, little did I know that the information I was sharing would inspire Mrs Demeji to talk about the interesting story of her life in the manner with which she did. Although I was positive that I would find persons willing to share their experience I did not think it would be as breath taking as it turned out that faithful evening.

I had barly said everything I had to say when I heard the voice of one of my audience from the far left saying; “You have a good concept. I will share with you the story of my life. I am sure a hand full of young couples out there will learn from what I have to say.

And with that she began:

“I grew up to learn that my mother died while giving birth to me.
As a woman; the fact that the woman who brought me to life died in the process, hunted me so much that in prayed and cried most nights in pain because I did not know my mother and possibly because I carried a kind of guilt that my mother had died because I was too stubborn to come out of her as any normal child would. Although my father did his best to make me feel better, my step mother’s attitude made me realize that nothing can ever take the place of a mother. My step mother was nice but she was never the mother I needed. Not because she wasn’t as good as she should have been, but because consciously or unconsciously, she managed to make me see that I had a kind of difference from her children; not because she wanted to make me feel bad but because we; that’s my parents had no much money and we had to manage the little we had. So at certain points I noted that she was left with no alternative, but to protect the interest of her innocent children. I felt the burden of a child without a mother, but I also knew that I had other reasons to be grateful for my kind of step mother, since she was not exactly a bad person. The whole thing made me feel the need to pay back, the life I had lost in my mother’s.

Fortunately for me I married the best man in the world. He is the reason I am able to have a story to share with you today. In fact I could even say he is the reason I am still alive today. I got married and looked eagerly forward to having a child of my own. But as time passed the waiting for that child became likened to the coming of Christ; I tried everything I could to have a child. I wanted to give my every best to this child whom I hoped would be a girl so that she would seem like the incarnation of my mother whom I had always longed to be with.

But one year soon became ten. And ten years soon turned fifteen yet all this while nothing like the cry of a child was heard in my home. I felt miserable and guiltier than ever. At a point I felt like I was suffering for killing my mother during my birth. To make the matter worse my brothers wives mocked and insulted me at the slightest provocation. One of them even called me a witch who had eaten up her children in the underworld. But in all of these, my strength was my husband’s support. In fact the grace I had to carry on came from my husband and the support his father gave me. My mother in-law was late, but my husband’s sisters all treated my nicely. Though occasionally I felt there was something in their attitude that suggested that they were tired of expecting me to have a child for their brother. But in all, they ware good. At least they were a thousand times better than my own brothers’ wives.

But soon I got pregnant and the next problem surfaced. Maybe it was as a result of fear or the result of a long standing premonition I had had that I killed my mother and would pay for her Death.

When I discovered that I had been feeling funny I went for a medical test and the doctor confirmed that I was pregnant. But that was not all. He also said I had certain complications and so could not keep the child; or I may risk the possibility of losing my life in the process. Staring at the doctor I felt I was receiving a confirmation of my life long fear. I told myself that God was planning to make me pay for what I did to my mother. Not that I actually enjoyed saying that to myself, but somehow it all made sense; I made my mother die at birth, and now my child is threatening to take my life. Only this time I had an option of finding lout on time and possibly preventing it. But that will be over my dead body. I told myself that it was better to die having this child than to lose a child I had wanted with all my soul during the past fifteen years of my marriage. My husband found the courage to talk to me about the need to do away with the child if it could lead to my death, but looking at his eyes, even while he spoke, I could tell how hard that decision was for him. He was caught within two difficult decisions of having his long awaited baby, or keeping his treasured wife. It all made me feel even guiltier and more determined to do something different from letting any life go. I was determined to do anything that would make everyone around me happy. I could no longer bear to be the cause of the pain of all those I loved and cherished so much. I pleaded with my husband to believe in the power of a mother. I had prayed that a child should come and I was optimistic that my prayer had been answered and nothing would take this child away from me. Though the Doctors had said that my pregnancy was life threatening; but I am sure that the God who gave me this child would not threaten my life with it. The flesh in me wanted to doubt, but the spirit of faith made me strong. Not just because I knew I had the strength to go on but because I had the resolve to live for my child, whom I had also resolved not to kill.

It was a task many would call logically impossible. But the strength of my resolve made it practically thinkable for me. Somehow I was able to convince my husband to have the faith I had and we managed to pull through. Though that was only possible with constant medical and physical care:

When the time came for me to have the baby that was in April 19^th 2009 I had started the process of labour when I eventually got taken to the hospital; that was when I knew the weight of the risk I had been taking. I was operated upon to remove the baby, because I had become unconscious, after the labour began. My husband had an agreement with an Indian hospital hear in Nigeria to do the delivery so I was operated there. But after the operation I still could not come back. My husband told me that I was unconscious for 10days, with all the medication that was administered on me. My husband had insisted that I shouldn’t fly so that I do not die in the process. I don’t know if that was my saving grace, but all I can tell is that some Doctors came all the way from India according to my husband and worked on me. Somehow I managed to return to this world. My first question was the whereabouts of my daughter. And when my children ware presented to me, I knew the sacrifice I had made was worth every bit of it. I realized that God had blessed me with not just a daughter but with two children, a boy and a girl. I do not know how I managed to do it; but I gave birth to two lovely children.

I cannot tell enough of this story. In fact I will live the rest of my life telling this story".