My Journey to Motherhood: From Waiting to Miracles
For as long as I can remember, I dreamed of becoming a mother. But for four years, month after month, the dream slipped through my fingers. Doctors told us the problem was with me, and every test Chad did came back clear. I felt guilty. Broken. Like a failure. I started to believe the lies the enemy whispered — that I wasn’t enough, that I would never become a mom.
In the midst of that pain, adoption had always been on our hearts — but I told God I needed to learn to be a mother first before taking on the responsibility of someone else’s precious child. But being honest now, it was also hugely about believing Chad and I would never pass the screening because in truth… I was not enough. I’m never enough. And then, He moved.
In a whirlwind, three weeks after submitting our first adoption application, we got the call: “There’s a baby girl, and you must please come fetch her tomorrow.” That’s how Olivia-Hope came into our lives at just 6 days old. My arms were finally full.
A year later, we submitted another adoption application, thinking this time, placement of a baby would take 9–12 months. We wanted our kids close in age, so we applied “just in time.” But God’s timing was already in motion — Nora-Quinn had been born the day before we submitted our forms. Two weeks later, at two and a half weeks old, she was home in our arms.
We thought our family was complete. My motherhood felt full, my heart overflowing.
Then December came. Without trying, without planning, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test. My first pregnancy after eight years. I was excited, terrified, and in disbelief — so much so that I kept testing for two weeks. I planned to surprise Chad on Christmas, but the news couldn’t wait. I blurted it out in tears: “I’m pregnant.” He just laughed, hugged me, and held me close.
On 1 August 2025, after a pregnancy filled with doubt and fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop – because remember, I’m never enough- , our daughter Maya-Jane was born, weighing 2.6kg. Maya means “water, spring and beloved” — and Jane means “God is gracious.” Her name is a testimony in itself.
Her birth didn’t go according to my plan. I went into labour on a Monday, 4 weeks early, but it took four days for the hospital to truly see that she was coming.
I felt delusional trying to explain to the medical staff that my baby was on its way. By the time she arrived, I hadn’t slept in four nights. I was exhausted, frustrated, and honestly, angry at God. I had wanted a natural, at-home birth, but every door seemed to close.
Now I see why. God knew better. He knew my pregnancy was higher risk than doctors had realised. He knew Maya would need NICU care from the very start. He took my disappointment and turned it into the most beautiful birth experience regardless of my plan. Should I have insisted on my way, neither myself, nor Maya would have been here today.
After eight years, I can’t say that I understand what God is doing — the heartbreak, the waiting, the adoption miracles, the unexpected pregnancy, the NICU stay. But I do understand that every moment was part of His perfect plan. It doesn’t really matter whether I am good enough or not because luckily nothing is to my own design. I am now a mother to three precious girls, each given to us in a different way, but each a living reminder of God’s timing, grace, and faithfulness.
If you are in the waiting, don’t give up. God hears every prayer, catches every tear, and works all things for good — even in ways you never imagined. – Lallie de Lange
