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Sister Jemine Odonmeta

I met my husband when we were both teenagers and we had our traditional marital union in 2001, followed two years later, in 2003, with a church solemnisation ceremony.

We both wanted to have children immediately we got married and so became concerned about my inability to conceive after about 12 months of trying.  Prior to this time though, I had always had very painful and heavy periods but did not consider it a problem until I heard the Apostle preaching about Christians’ attitude to sicknesses and diseases.  He said most Christians often pray about what they ought to seek medical help about.  This, he said, was wrong and the correct way to act was to seek medical help about our infirmities, so we can pray aright.  His sermon that morning struck a chord with my situation, which I had often prayed about.  I made up my mind that Sunday morning that I was going to seek medical help concerning my heavy period and the doctor I saw referred me to a gynaecologist who could only book me for an appointment six months later.  I went back to the doctor and asked for any help he could offer or suggest to me in the interim concerning my situation. He suggested I had consultation for IVF treatment. My husband and I were up for it until we were told it would cost us a considerable amount of money to register for the treatment.   We had a heart to heart talk about it and decided that we were going to sow the required sum for the IVF treatment as a seed offering to God to remind Him of His covenant with the saints as written in Exodus chapter 23.

When the time for my appointment with the gynaecologist came up, I was first asked to undergo a scan, which did not reveal much.  Further internal investigation was arranged and the doctor discovered that I had huge fibroids blocking the neck of my womb.  The fibroids were removed and four months later I became pregnant with my first child.  I was so ecstatic and thankful to God when I discovered I was pregnant and cannot really, till this day, find any suitable word to describe my joy. Everything about the pregnancy went fine until the ninth month when I caught chicken pox.  To say I was distraught is an understatement. Nevertheless, I was very optimistic that the Lord who gave me the child, after such a long time, would not allow me to lose him to chicken pox.   Thankfully he was born healthy and free of all the presumed prognosis of the doctor. About a couple of months after my first son turned one, I discovered I was pregnant again.  As is customary with my husband and me, we both thanked the Lord who had once again poured His favour on us.  I gave birth to my second child, a boy, by caesarean section, just like I had done with the first, because of the major operation I had deep inside my cervix. The doctors had advised that the only way I could ensure a safe childbirth was to have a caesarean section.  Although I was very happy to give birth to another son, secretly I had hoped for a daughter all through the pregnancy. Just as the thought crossed my mind, I heard the voice of the Holy Spirit say to me “but you did not ask Me for a daughter, you only said you wanted a sibling for your son”.  I apologised to God, and thanked Him immensely for the child.

About 10 months later, I became pregnant again and this time around I kept asking God in my prayers for a daughter.  The pregnancy went fine; nothing unusual, apart from the emotional sadness I suffered due to the death of my beloved mum. I remember walking into the labour ward myself on the day I had my daughter.  The entire necessary tests were carried out and then I was wheeled into theatre for another caesarean section to have my daughter.  Although heavily sedated for pain, I saw my daughter when she was delivered and clearly remember saying to my husband, “it’s a girl”.  They took the baby away to clean her up and then I started to cough; that much I remember and now my husband tells the events that occurred thereafter.

At some point in the theatre, I was asked to leave the theatre room but, before then, the doctors were asking me various questions about my wife - whether she had suffered any complications prior to our coming to the hospital or whether she had medical conditions they were not aware of.  I answered no and left bewildered.  I knew something was wrong but could not really understand what it was.