My journey to motherhood was somewhat convoluted. I had no burning desire to be a mother. It was one more thing to tick off my life’s to-do list.
Medical School – check.
Become a doctor -check.
Get married – check.
Have children – check.
But my journey was to be an undulating one.
It was two years into my marriage before I realized ‘have children’ wasn’t just going to happen. There was a problem. The day I sat across a colleague as a patient, and was told our hopes of having children naturally would never materialize, I died a little.
I understood the diagnosis and the limitations of medical science, from a doctor’s stance. I would need to go through series of infertility treatments. Nevertheless, our faith in Go;d held us steady.
As the years turned like the pages of a book, my longing to have a child became stronger. Each day seemed like a year, every men’strua:l cycle, a thousand years. I established myself as a general practitioner in that time. I examined mothers and babies while aching for mine. Everywhere I looked someone had a baby in her arms except me.
Almost ten years later, during which time I had three failed IVF treatments and we leaned towards adoption, I held my son on my birthday. We had received a miracle. I cannot put the emotions I felt on paper. At my son’s Dedication Service, I rolled on the floor at the altar—all my yearning, hoping, waiting, crying congealed into worship.
My journey into motherhood began when the magnitude of the responsibility to guide this little person from childhood to adulthood hit me. Two precious daughters have joined the fold. It’s an honour and a privilege to be called mum.
Taye Umole enjoys sharing uplifting stories about how medicine and faith can complement each other. Running is a passion she and her husband share