Story from Maria B
Now I believe in Erma Bombeck’s saying which states that, “If I could redo my life, instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I would have treasured every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.”
As a first-year student studying for a bachelor’s in Civil Engineering who came from a less fortunate family, my parents relied on me, and they wished me to work hard. On the first day of entering my mathematics class, I saw a very handsome man, and I wanted him to say hi to me. Days came and went, ushering in weeks. Finally, what I had been dreaming of came through. I wish I knew! My only desire was to love that man with my heart, soul, and mind. As he approached me, he invited me on the weekend to go and visit him so that we could talk more and plan how we were going to start our love journey.
I waited for that Saturday eagerly, and finally, it arrived. I prepared myself like a queen and set off on my journey to meet the love of my life. I met the man, and we talked about everything concerning life as I forgot the situation my parents were living in!. As a sign of love, I gave him my virginity, and that was the day I got pregnant because I had waited for my period for two months. I didn’t see even a dot to heal my wounded heart.
I was stressed, my parents were very harsh, and that man dumped me. He even blocked me over the phone. I was about to abort the baby or commit suicide. My life was in misery: I almost hated myself, and my heart was broken into pieces. One day as I was walking to the hospital, I fainted. Some good Samaritans took me to the hospital, and after regaining my consciousness I was told my pressure was 200/115, so I was at risk of developing preeclampsia.
I had lost hope in my life and faced hostility and every kind of stigmatization. Tears were my daily smile as I was trying to cope with the situation. One day I imagined that the child I was carrying might be more precious than gold and maybe will wipe away my tears. At five months, I started medication, and now I’m seven months heavily pregnant, eagerly waiting for that handle of joy earlier this year, and due to those challenges I have faced, I will call her “Naomi” if it’s a girl and “Job” if it’s a boy.