I am Zena Moujalled and come from West Africa. Last year was a year I will never forget. It all started in September 2016 when my man left me because I was pregnant and he wasn’t ready to be a father. So, I had to move back in with my family while pregnant. I asked myself: Can I make it? Am I ready to be a mother? I have just moved to the US. I am just a student. How can I take care of another human being? Then I said to myself: God will make a way. He gave the baby to me, so he will provide for me. So, everything seemed fine. My check ups were good. The baby was growing well. But on January 18th, 2017 I got sick and could barely stand on my feet. I went to see a doctor—they couldn’t find the problem. So, I went to see another doctor who did an MRI on me and realized I have a 12-inch size uterine fibroid in my womb with my 25 weeks old baby in there as well. He told me that I would need a surgery right away.
I got admitted into Texas Health Hospital in Denton. Every surgeon who looked at the MRI images was scared to go ahead with the surgery. They all said that with a 25-week pregnancy, either I will die with the baby or I will lose my womb and my baby all together. Either way—I will lose. I cried and cried thinking the baby’s father left me because of having this baby. I hadn’t seen my baby yet but I wanted to keep him/her so badly that I told the doctors they don’t own my life nor the life of my unborn child God gave me. If God wants to call away me and the child he has given me, then so shall it be.
They decided to send me home knowing fully well I could not walk on my own. Every four hours I took pain shots. My doctor said she will do the surgery even though all the other doctors wash their hands of it. My doctor said, “Do you have faith?” And I replied yes. She said, “Keep your fingers crossed and pray to God. I will do the same. All your family should do the same.”
The next day, my doctor came to prep for the procedure. She told me what might happen due to the medications that had been given me while still pregnant. The injections that were shot into my womb to keep my unborn child still in there for the surgery might have an effect on the baby. He or she might be disabled when born. I told her, “All right, let God’s will be done. I will have him/her alive rather than dead.” So, we went ahead with the surgery and the 12 inches of mass close to my child was taken out of me.
By God’s grace I got to keep my womb and my child was still alive inside me. I was then discharged and in three weeks was to go back to see my doctor for the staples to be taking out. I thought my sufferings were over, but no. I had an infection where the staples were.
With my stomach like this I had to stay on bed-rest for four months with a nurse who came by every day to treat the wound. Even she was shocked seeing me like that. Lo and behold, the staples came out successfully after 4-5 months. The wound finally closed, and in June I was to have my baby on the 25th. But God’s way isn’t human beings’ way. On the 18th, I started feeling painful yellow water was coming out of me. I knew something was wrong with my baby. My mother and I rushed to the hospital and was told I was only 1 cm dilated and had to go back home. I hadn’t had a baby before, but I knew this wasn’t right. We decided to go back again to the hospital and this time I called my other doctor, who then called the hospital and told them to prep me right away again for another surgery. She told me my baby had pooped inside and was swimming in its own water poop. I had a successful C-section surgery and delivered a bouncy, healthy baby boy. He was not disabled like they claimed he could be—he was healthy as a horse. He has never been sick, even to this day. God did it for me. He truly is a powerful God.
I call my boy the miracle child. Today he is 10 months old. God has been good to us. I am very proud to be called his mother. I have never regretted having him, despite what I had gone through. I never gave up on God, and thank Him for giving my boy to me.