A Miracle In Motion
For many of you, my journey with IVF is a story you may know — whether through intimate conversations, the Agape Support Program at my charity foundation, my TED Talk, or perhaps even now, as you read this. Regardless of how you learned about it, you know it has been a long journey — one marked by sadness, heartbreak, fleeting moments of joy, tears, laughter, trust in divine timing, and acceptance that what is meant to be will be.
This journey was never what I planned. But then again, is it ever what any woman plans? When motherhood is your dream, you do what you must — you fight, you hope, and you believe. For years, I silently carried the weight of feeling like I had failed — as a woman and as a wife. Shame and discouragement shadowed me, and my heart ached for every woman who has walked this road far longer than I have. I would never wish this path on anyone.
What many don’t see is the struggle behind the scenes. The days I couldn’t get out of bed. The tears. The anxiety. The depression. The heartbreak of sharing our excitement when I first got pregnant, only to watch the pain in the eyes of those I loved when it ended in loss. That pain was why I couldn’t share it the next time it happened — not until I was sure we were in the clear. I couldn’t bear to crush their hopes again. I knew I would only exhale when I held my baby — only then would it feel real.
Yet through the relentless, exhausting process, I had to keep going. I had a business to run, a foundation to lead, and people counting on me. Even on the days I struggled to leave my bed, I pushed through. It’s the overachiever in me, the woman who honors her word and shows up for others. Ironically, having a sense of purpose, doing work I love, and serving others became part of my healing. But balancing life, work, happiness, and the emotional rollercoaster of IVF has tested me, stretched me, and taught me patience I never thought I had.
This journey to motherhood began in May 2020, in the isolation of the pandemic — unable to see, hug, or lean on friends and family. It came with mental and physical challenges I never expected, but it also taught me lessons I would never trade.
As I look back and force myself to watch the raw vlogs and flip through the endless entries in my journal — pages where I documented my journey since 2020, hoping to never forget and perhaps share it with our children one day — it is both surreal and painful. Reliving those moments, I can still feel the sharp sting of injections in my stomach and thighs. It wasn’t that long ago that the relentless 70-day stretch of this seventh round finally ended.
But where the bruises and needles once marked my skin, I now witness something extraordinary — my body nurturing a healthy placenta, no longer dependent on injections or medication, but instead, sustained by divine grace. I watch, in awe, as God does His work once more.
If you have any questions about our journey, please feel free to share them here anonymously, email me, or DM me on Instagram. I will be sharing more about my experiences, lessons learned, and the hope of what’s still to come. You may already know I’m not the best with my socials, so this is my challenge to myself — to continue sharing, hoping to inspire even one person who feels alone. I hope you will hold space and grace for me as I do.
Here is a gentle reminder to myself and anyone who needs this: “You are enough, always have been and always will be.”
So until next time, I invite you to come along this journey with me — with open hearts and minds. And if you know someone who needs this reminder, please share it. They are not forgotten.🫶🏽
Thanks for reading till the end.
With love & gratitude,
Efe
