I spent a lot of time of social media. I use it to connect to people, share my blogs, and promote good mental health. Somehow I stumbled upon the profile of Destiny Thomas, a mother, author, motivational speaker, and prayer warrior. She does live prayers requests weekly. I was drawn to her positive posts, and her tremendous faith. I was happy to feature her on a #WomenWhoSlayWednesday blog, but I had no idea the battle she has fought in journey to motherhood. Below is a snippet for Destiny Thomas' book called, 'A War I Couldn't Win Alone.'
Have you ever been at a place in life where you have asked yourself “Why Me?” About 4 years ago now, that is exactly what I asked myself every day for 3 and ½ years. Continue reading to find out why. A snippet from “A war I couldn’t win alone”
…"Well, Mrs. Thomas, I’ve found what’s been holding up the baby-making process. These marble-like balls in your ovaries right here are cysts."
Immediately my heart sunk. At this time, the only cysts I was familiar with were the ones that people prayed would come back benign after a biopsy.
"Cancerous cysts?" I asked.
"Oh, no. Cysts in your ovaries as in a condition known as PCOS for short, or Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Here you are. I went ahead and printed out some information about the condition for you," he stated. "Now, Destiny, whatever you do, don’t, I repeat, don’t go searching on Google and stressing yourself out. All you need to do to make your chances of conceiving greater is lose weight."
Piece of cake, right? Sounded easy right?
"You have already been doing so well with your home cooking and exercising, so just keep it up."
This sounded so easy, and it gave me so much confidence and relief that nothing was wrong with me. I just had a little boo-boo that needed to be cared for. I went home with a newfound purpose. For the next month, I continued making home-cooked meals, watching my eating, and exercising regularly. I was confident there would be progress by my appointment next month. If not on my ultrasound, it would at least be noticeable on the scale.
That month flew by, and the time had come for me to check on my progress with Dr. L. The very first thing we did was assess my weight. Giddy and excited because my scale at home showed I had lost at least eight lbs., I took a deep breath and went for it. Not only did their scale not match mine at home, but it said I gained five lbs. from the last time I was there.
Devastated would be an understatement for how I felt in that moment. I felt like all my hard work was for ABSOLUTELY nothing. Noticing the look of defeat on my face, the nurse tried to coddle me and remind me that it was common with PCOS and doctor scales and I shouldn't get discouraged. After a moment to get myself together, it was time to get my ultrasound and meet with the doctor.
"Well, Destiny, we have great news! You did have a cycle this month and are ovulating, so don’t get down. Just keep going and stop worrying about it. It will happen when it is meant to happen."
Still down about what I had seen on the scale, all of that went in one ear and out the other. I honestly didn't know at the time that having a cycle and ovulating with PCOS was a very big deal and something I should have been overjoyed about—so I completely ignored it. We discussed continuing to do what I was doing and concluded the appointment. Because I just knew this appointment was going to be a good one, I informed my supervisor I would be returning to work once it was over.
Why? Why did I do that? My emotions were all over the place and, honestly, I just wanted to go home, ball up in my covers, and cry for hours. Not only that but to make matters worse, because of my green personality and curiosity getting the best of me, I did what Dr. L continued telling me not to do. I was tired of feeling like I didn’t have all the information I needed to battle this war head-on. So, I pulled out my handy dandy phone and phoned a friend, “Mr. Google.” I sat in that parking lot for over thirty minutes clicking from one page to the next, taking screenshots, taking notes, and reading horror stories.
I was trying to find everything I possibly could about this fertility thief known as PCOS. Already a wreck, I began to break down, reading the stories of people who had been trying to get pregnant for over fifteen years and still nothing, marriages that had led to divorce because of infertility and everything that comes along with it, and the numerous stories of miscarriage after miscarriage. There was a financial strain from the cost of treatments and medications, imbalanced hormones which lead to low self-esteem, depression, and uncontrollable weight gain.
Finally noticing the time, I began trying to get myself together to prepare to drive to work. I had recently accepted a new position at work and was in training where 100% attendance was mandatory. Calling out wasn’t an option unless they were informed beforehand, so I was forced to put my big girl panties on and get through the rest of my work day with a smile. I had fifteen minutes to turn on some gospel music and get my mind right before I would pull up in the parking lot. Then I would have to face my twelve peers, four coaches, and trainer acting as if everything was A ok. With a smile, I opened the door and greeted everyone as I normally did.
I found my way to my seat and sat facing my computer. I held back the tears, acting as if I was patiently waiting for it to boot up.
"Destiny you came just in time," my coach stated. "We are doing role practices and if you are up to it, we can do you next."
Not turning my head from my computer, I responded, "Sure. Let me just get my computer booted up."
"No problem, we were just finishing up with Tom and then I will be ready for you."
After about five minutes, it was my turn. To avoid breaking down, I kept swallowing and reciting, you are strong; nothing is too big for God in my head.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help or last as long as it did in my head. I just remember the tears beginning to flow down my face and I couldn’t stop them. "May I have a moment?" I whispered to my coach and sprinted for the door faster than Hussain Bolt in the Olympics. Making it to the bathroom in record time, now looking myself face to face in the mirror, I broke down. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer and begin to ask, Why God? What did I do? I’ve served you my entire life and you give me this battle. I stood there looking like someone who clearly had lost her mind talking to herself.
One of the ladies from my training class that played the role of my class mother entered the bathroom and ran to me with her arms open, ready for me to just fill them with my tears and pain. She hugged me like only a mother knew how with her petite stature, short Nia Long in Love Jones haircut, brown skin tone, a couple of moles or beauty marks as my grandmother likes to call them across the face, and just the cutest little gap in between her two front teeth. She said in her Virginia-born southern accent,
"What is it my dear, and is it too big for God?"
Hardly able to breathe at this point, with snot all over my face, I shook my head no.
I took a couple of breaths and was able to compose myself enough to tell her the horrible news from my appointment. She continued to remind me that it was not too hard for God, that God’s timing is perfect so relax and let him do what he is good at, which is controlling situations that are out of our control. I got myself together, and we stood there in the middle of the bathroom locking hands as she prayed over me. Boy was she right about God’s timing being perfect, because only God knew what was about to happen next.
Only he knew how shaken up my life, marriage, and household would get and how that wasn’t any environment to bring a baby in. But, hey, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t pray and ask for things prematurely? Right? We think that is just what we need to get right, instead of getting right to get what we want. But that is a whole nother story for a whole nother book.
So, in that moment and even in those 3+ years I just couldn’t understand why this was happening to me. However, you know what is so comical about those moments? When the storm passes, and the blessing comes it is so much sweeter than if it had come when you wanted it to. Read on to see exactly how I felt…
I laid back in the bed, just taking in the moment, and began bawling. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and thanksgiving. I couldn’t believe that two years ago on this very day, I was broken. I felt defeated, as if my time would never come, and now it was here. I had a super-fast slideshow memory moment. I recalled those moments of depression, moments standing in front of the mirror feeling disgusted, moments of taking hormone shots through my butt, the numerous amounts of blood draws, nights of crying myself to sleep, and was immediately engulfed in God’s love.
I was amazed about how good God was, that he even was kind enough to give me the date my baby would be born, though my mom and I still didn’t believe him. Over and over again, he shows me that his Word is true and that he wants to not only give me my needs and wants but also my heart's desires. If only I had put as much trust in him as I did those doctors, I could have been here so long ago. My mom looked up and saw me crying and immediately ran over.
"What’s wrong, Des?"
I was so full of happiness I couldn’t even speak.
"It just hit you that this is really happening, huh?" she asked.
"Yes," I said in between cries and head nods.
"All of it was worth it, baby, for this moment right here."
You can read more of Destiny's story in her book: https://www.
You can read more of Destiny's story in her book: https://www.
You can connect with her on social media: www.instagram.com/realizing_
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