For many years, my greatest dream felt impossible. I longed for a child, yet every month reminded me of my emptiness.
The whispers started quietly — at first from relatives, then from neighbours, and finally from women in my own circle.
They would laugh or joke, never considering how deep their words cut. I became the woman called barren.
The pain was not only in my body — it was in my soul. I cried alone at night, hiding my tears from anyone who might judge me further.
I watched friends and relatives celebrate pregnancies, naming ceremonies, and birthdays, and I would smile on the outside while my heart broke inside.
My husband tried to comfort me, but I could feel his disappointment as well. I felt like a failure, as if my purpose had been denied. ...CONTINUE READING