Two Miscarriages, a Still Born and a Preemie Baby

Having a baby is a blessing, and the gift of life is precious. When a woman finds out she’s pregnant, it can be one of the most exciting events in her life. The thrill of the pregnancy stays with most women until birth, when you finally see your bundle of joy. For others, the path to motherhood can be a difficult one.

However, even with some women’s pain, a rainbow of resilience can shine through the dark clouds. This resilience happened to me, and that’s why I can share this experience with you. I hope that my story will inspire you to be optimistic that one day you too will experience the joys of motherhood.

I came from a very bountiful family. My grandmother had 18 children, my mom had 9, and the aunts had 7 to 12 children. I was hoping for five children as my ultimate goal.

I got married at the tender age of twenty. I was living life with my new husband as most newlyweds do. Getting pregnant quickly was never on my mind until one day in 2001 when I was surprised to find out I was pregnant. Although shocked, I was excited, but that excitement only lasted three weeks. A sharp pain and heavy bleeding was the telltale sign that I had lost my first baby.

This loss was heartbreaking, but it sent me into a determined mood. I got pregnant again in 2002 and, at almost 12 weeks, lost my second baby. As tragic as these two losses were, I wasn’t about to quit. A few months later, I was pregnant again, and this time I passed the three-month mark. I was hopeful the third time was the charm.

Once again, another tragedy struck. At 26 weeks on January 15th, the baby’s heartbeat could not be detected during a routine appointment. I was sent to the hospital immediately for an ultrasound, only to find out the baby had passed. A part of me died that day. I was only 23 years old and felt too young to have such tragic events one after another. The burden was too much to carry.

The thought of going back to the hospital the following day to be induced and give birth to a stillborn baby was unimaginable. On January 17th, 2003, at 7:15 am, after 15 hours of labor, I gave birth to my son Zachary Theodore Asher. The following day I went to the funeral home to make arrangements for his burial, dropped off his outfit, and picked out his casket. I don’t remember a time in my 23 years that I cried this much, and the tears flowed for days, weeks and months. I so desperately wanted to be a mom, and even with this latest tragedy, I didn’t give up.

My last pregnancy occurred in 2004. This time I was extra cautious, went by the book, and did everything right. The pregnancy was moving along with no issues or concerns. The baby was happy, healthy and growing.

On September 7th, 2004, Hurricane Ivan devastated Grenada. Between hearing this disastrous news and not able to contact my family, my body went into shock. I developed preeclampsia, and my blood pressure soared to 200/150. The outlook was grim. I was given one day to possibly save my life and my baby’s life.
On September 9th, I gave birth to my 2.5 lbs baby Aaliyah Elizabeth Asher. Although hooked up with machines and tubes, she was alive and breathing. I woke up just in time to see her and say goodbye because she was being moved to another hospital for the next two months. Before Christmas in 2004, I came home with a 4lb baby, and the rest they say is history.

Throughout such significant losses, I was able to see my dream come true. The journey was unthinkable and full of anguish, but well worth the prize.

If you are going through anything like these events or other debilitating situations, you can rest assured the prize is worth the wait. Be patient and hopeful. You too can have that happy ending.