Hi, my name is Chenai Mbanga! Welcome to my blog! I write to encourage, inspire and empower you in growing in your spiritual life through reflections and prose. I have been writing on this blog for 5 years now, and it has been a journey! Join me as I continue my journey toward self-actualizing.❤


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Latest Posts

Baby Blues

I didn't know I was pregnant until I had a dream. I normally do not hold any stock to dreams, but this one was different. I don't know how to explain; it was as though I was finally living the life that I was created to live. I don't know. Words to describe it will only  be superfluous and contrived. But after that dream, I knew. And I was happy. Looking back now, I should have been terrified. I should have been suspicious. I should have been...cautious. I was about to have a baby and I didn't know what I was going to do. But I didn't care. I was so certain that everything would come together; that I would figure it out. I was fearless about the future. All I saw were possibilities. I saw myself on the other side. 

It's funny. The night that I found out that I'd lost my baby, a friend asked me how i was doing. I remember lying because I couldn't make sense of what had happened. I don't remember if I cried that night; I certainly cried the next day. All the happiness, and excitement and the certainty mocked me relentlessly. The shame and embarrassment I felt was horrifying. How could I have been so stupid? In what what place...where did I have the audacity to think my hopes and expectations would come to fruition? I'd been floating on a cloud; and this loss brought me back to earth. Clouds aren't fluffy. You can't float on them! They are made of water. I crashed onto the pavement so hard, I don't know how I am still here to share this with you. Everything that I had overlooked came and taunted me. Where had I been planning on living? Rent costs money! What qualifications did I have to care for this child I wanted to bring in to this world? Who would support me? The father? Ha! The father....

It still makes me cry when i think about it. I told myself that it was ok; that it was for the best--I wasn't ready; I didn't have  what I needed to be a good mother; to support my baby; to live purposefully. But I truly thought that I was going to be ok. I believed it. I saw my baby and I, and I believed it.I didn't know how we would make it, but I wanted it! I was ready to sacrifice everything, because this baby was everything. It was every.thing. I had always been fearful of having a child--the responsibility; the commitment; could I really do it?  But when I finally accepted it, it was as though I'd ascended to a new realm where anything and everything was possible. 

I suppose I dodged a bullet. I should be thankful. For what, i'm not sure. I should be grateful about how things are right now. Some days I am. Other days, thoughts of my baby creep in. Of the life that I wanted for us; thoughts of how things could be right now; of the type of woman that I would be. I know that I will have another baby, but it's challenging to conceive that I could love as passionately and unbridely as I did before. Presently, my hope is tarnished by fear; a fear that I did not know before. And this fear lingers, occasionally teasing me with doubt, and other days overwhelming me with fury, and somedays, most days now, with numbness. 

I do my best to remind myself to let go, to hang on to hope for better days. I tell myself I will deliver a beautiful baby one day; that this baby will be extraordinary beyond my wildest expectations. But i suppose as a mother you are supposed to think highly of the fruit of your loins. I don't know. It's a constant tug-of-war.  There are days when i think that I don't want a baby; that I'll be happier not pursuing that responsibility. Why constrain myself? 
But I suppose this is the other side of realism that I must walk: of course I'll have another baby! And I could always adopt. I don't have to wait for a man and hope that he is who he says he is. Heaven knows there are thousands of babies without parents. I can adopt one. Or several. And I'll still be happy.  

I have to accept that women miscarry quite often. I've heard it from colleagues and friends. Some 3 or 4 times. And they continue to try. It's normal, and a part of life. It's not every woman's story, but they get through it. And I have to get through it. 
I have to. 


  1. Chenai!!!! WOW!So amazing.It's like I could feel every expression in your story.So inspirational!❤.


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