Heartbreak When It’s too Late To Have A Baby

Life is indeed ironic, I ran into my best friend Adeola after 10 years of parting ways at Yaba market, after exchanging pleasantries, we decided to meet up later. It was during the second meeting that I discovered she’s been trying to conceive for 8 years. I wondered aloud, “But you were pregnant thrice back in school” She laughed bitterly “My sister, I was pregnant 5 times and each time I told myself I don’t want this baby and aborted it, now that I want babies, they’ve forsaken my womb”

Back in school, Deola wasn’t in any way a bad girl, she loved going out and because of her good body shape, she had a lot of guys after her, but that good shape brought bad guys into her abode.

She always fell for the wrong guys, I know because we lived in the same room together, all they ever wanted was to sample and leave, but Deola being the careless one and a loving being allowed herself fall stupidly head over heels in love with all the rogues that come her way, opening her legs to their pricks without no protection, what’s more, she lies to me about dating or having sex with them, but when she becomes pregnant that’s when she’ll come out clean, forgetting her previous lies, I never took it against her, she’s just another attractive girl that doesn’t know how to handle attention.

I witnessed the abortion of a 4 months old pregnancy by her, and it was when her parents started seeing me as the bad egg Deola is very religious) that I had to stay away from her.  The year we graduated from school was the last time I saw her until the coincidental meeting.


Back to the present day, I asked her “how’s your husband and kids” “My husband’s fine, as for children we are still waiting on God” So yes, she told me how she dated a guy for 5 years and aborted for him twice again before getting married which means she threw away 5 of her children.

I’ve never judged her, humans have the tendency to act somehow when they don’t know better “So what have you been doing?”

“I’ve taken every horrible chalk doctors prescribed for me, the ones that made me dizzy, the ones that made me horny as hell and the ones that made me moody I religiously took everything. But nothing! After 2 failed IVF and one Intrauterine insemination I’ve stopped trying”

At this point, she broke down, “I can’t believe it! I still can’t. remember the time I was pregnant for 4 months?” When I nodded my head she continued “To think I’ve not even been pregnant from morning till night in the 8 years of my marriage” She lamented.

My heart went to her, tell me, how do you comfort such a friend? As she wept, I laid her head on my shoulders and felt the spasm of her pains ripple through her as she cried, I didn’t know when I started crying too.

I cried for the lost innocence, the lost opportunities, the wasted babies, the lost, lonely and confused woman who is my friend. I wept bitterly there, at the private booth we sat at.

“Maybe, I’ve aborted all my babies” She said through her tears.

“Try not to consider the what if’s dear. You do know that you can still be fighting infertility now even if you didn’t abort then? God’s time is different from man’s, if you had gotten married then maybe you’d have children of your own because that was God’s appointed time for you to have babies. But God can choose to give you babies at the age when you’ve given up on having babies”

Life is indeed ironic, the major problem she’s facing now is not her husband who deeply loves her, but her in-laws who are ready to pack her load out of her husband’s house. My words seem to calm her down, I didn’t say what I said just to calm her down, I truly believe it.

I feel sad for her, she’s guilt-ridden, unsure where the problem of her infertility came from and even more unsure whether she’ll ever be counted as the mother to children before she leaves earth, but God’s plan is different from man’s if only you believe.

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My Child Died By My Hands

Sometimes in life, we wish we can turn back the hands of time and change things, but there’s nothing I can do to bring back my dead son, worse still, I have no other child since his death. If he were alive, Aramide should be clocking 4 years old today. I remember the day he met his Maker and the details of his death as if it were yesterday, the sight of his bloodied body haunts me at night. There are days I wake up screaming from nightmares with his name in my mouth. “Aramide! Aramide! Don’t go!” I would scream with my hands stretched as if to bring him back, then wake up with tear filled eyes and hands outstretched.  

No, I didn’t stab him to death with a kitchen knife or anything gory like that. That fateful afternoon, my mother came from Owo to Lagos to see her grandchild, so we picked her up from the park. Aramide was in his car seat in the front seat, while my mother was at the back, he started crying while touching his left foot, my mother picked him up from his car seat so she can see what was pinching him in the foot.

She found that a hair strand was tied to his toe, I was surprised “How did that happen? I’m on low cut so that hair is definitely not mine” I replied

I can’t remember the details of what happened next, I took off my eyes from the road for a minute to see the hair my mom was talking about and when I returned my eyes to the road, I saw I was running into the mouth of the incoming trailer, I skidded and went back to my lane, too late!

The car was off the road and it kept going until something stopped it. I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself at the hospital and the first thing I asked was

“What happened?” “Where’s my son”

The injury to me and my mom was mild because we were belted down, the look on my husband’s face changed when I asked about our son.

He answered with a hoarse voice “Get well soon so you can see him”

“Well I’m fine now and I want to see him immediately” I said and immediately removed the needle supplying drips to my body, it stung but I couldn’t feel the pain.

I just knew something wasn’t right, something told me my baby is gone but I didn’t want to believe it, before I could get out of the hospital bed, my husband held me back, “He’s no more, Aramide is dead” he said and burst into tears.

I slumped and black out again. I woke up the third day, “Is she awake?”I could hear my mom saying weakly beside the bed. I woke up with tears in my eyes “We killed him, we did!” I kept saying.

I was discharged from the hospital but I never remained the same again, my mom was ridden with guilt too, she became terribly ill, and at her sick bed, she kept saying “I shouldn’t have come here” I didn’t dispute that, I kept hammering on “We killed her”

Needless to say, the guilt killed her, she died a week after the death of Ara and I became even more sad. I should have reassured her, I should have told her it’s not her fault.

I know I didn’t kill my mom, no, I didn’t, she died of heartache, but my son died by my hand, if only I had made sure he was safely tucked in in his baby car seat, if only I had pulled over to examine what was hurting him, I would still have my sweet baby with me right now.

Now the boy keeps coming to me in my dreams, he keeps tormenting my soul, I want closure, I want to forget, but how can I when I see him in my waking and sleeping moments? I can’t even try to get pregnant in this state of mind.

I don’t want to die of heart-ache, I don’t want to end up like my mom. How do I achieve closure, how do I tell myself it’s not my fault? Please help!


Please ensure your children wear seat belt while inside your car, share this article on Facebook, Twitter or Whatsapp so your friends can see the danger in not belting their child up when driving.

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