It was December 1, 2023. I remember waking up with cramps, thinking it must be braxton hicks. The pain continued throughout the day, getting more intense, painful, and frequent. Night time came, and I could not sleep. I knew this had to be something more than false contractions. I thought for a second, could it be labour? I was only about 24 weeks into my pregnancy so it shouldn’t be. 24 weeks is too early, right?

I rushed to the toilet in the very early hours of December 2nd, trying to relieve myself of the intense bowel pressure I felt while not exerting enough pressure to push the baby out. At that moment, I saw a text from my friend checking on me to see how I was doing. She texted me around 5am, I had not told her anything prior to her message. This must be God. I told her how I was feeling, that I will be going to the hospital, and that she, along with my other close friends, should be praying for me. As this was happening, my husband called our Pastor to inform her. We also informed close friends and family, and they were all praying for us.

We arrived at the hospital thinking it would be a quick check and fix, allowing us to return home and join our church’s ongoing prayer meeting. To our surprise, the doctors came in and said to us, “so your baby is coming out today”, they said his heart rate was dipping, and they will need to administer some medications to improve his chances of survival when he arrives”. We were moved to the labour and delivery ward, and the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) doctor came in to explain the complications the baby may have upon arrival and possible medical interventions. Then she asked us whether we would like them to administer chest compressions on the baby if needed, or if we would rather hold his hands and “let him go”. My husband and I were confused, everything was moving so fast.

In hindsight, I know even though our mouths were not moving physically in prayer, our spirit was interceding for us - drawing from the depths of our conviction of faith in God and in the power of His might. The Holy Spirit led us as we delayed in taking some medications that were recommended, which in turn, delayed the delivery. Eventually, we consented to taking the steroids recommended. Few moments after administering steroids, a team of doctors rushed into the room saying “we need to bring the baby out right now”. Apparently, his heart rate dipped severely low and he was at risk of asphyxiation. They then administered magnesium sulphate for his brain and said they’ll wait 25 minutes before proceeding to deliver the baby.

In the midst of the pain, and as the medical team was preparing to take me in for delivery, I remember chanting in my heart, “I still believe Lord, I still believe”. My Pastor called and gave the phone to the guest minister at my church’s meeting to pray for me. He said on the phone, “contractions stop, baby stay”. I mustered an “amen”. At that moment, my contractions began to decrease, and the baby’s dipping heart rate began to stabilize, so much so that the emergency delivery was no longer necessary at the time.

It was two-three weeks of back and forth between the labor and delivery ward, and antenatal ward - delivery scares and irregular baby’s heart rate. Finally, we were discharged. Nurses came home daily to check on the baby until he was delivered. One of the nurses at the hospital had told me before I left that “people like you would usually deliver before term”. I refuted this. To the glory of God, I pushed a healthy full term baby out, contrary to the expectations and report of the medical team. At the end of her shift, the nurse who delivered my baby remarked to her incoming colleague, “she had a spontaneous delivery”. Praise God.