The Rollercoaster of Love: For our first son!!

One fateful evening, after hearing heartbreaking news from the doctor, my husband gently proposed the idea of adoption. I was utterly overwhelmed, as adoption was a path I had never even considered, and my thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of shock and confusion. I asked him to give me time to pray and process this life-altering idea, my heart heavy yet yearning for clarity. In a moment of quiet reflection, I felt a comforting presence, and I heard God’s gentle whisper assuring me that He was with us, no matter the choice we made. In that divine moment, my fears melted away, were replaced by a sense of peace and I knew that this was the journey that God had wanted us to walk.

In that season, I was wrapped in a serenity so profound, it felt like a divine confirmation of our journey to parenthood. The overwhelming joy of becoming new parents was accompanied by an unfamiliar fear, as adoption isn't the usual route to parenting. Yet, amidst the emotional rollercoaster, we still stuck through this absurdity.

So, we dove headfirst into a mountain of reading, from psychological write-ups to spiritual musings, and wouldn't you know it, God, in His delightful sense of humour, started sending adoptive parents our way. It was like a cosmic matchmaking service and each conversation was like a warm hug, reassuring us more and more that we were absolutely destined for this, like finding the last puzzle piece under the couch after days of searching.

In October of 2019, we bravely submitted our adoption application, bought a baby cot and shared the news with our unsuspecting families. The shockwaves were palpable! In Kenya, adoption is often shrouded in suspicion and misunderstanding. People couldn’t wrap their minds around the concept, thinking an adopted child was somehow an outsider. We were bombarded with questions: "Why not have your own biological children first?" or "Why raise someone else’s child?" These inquiries, fuelled by cultural beliefs and misconceptions, became a comical yet exhausting part of our new reality. Even now, the churchy folks assure us that God has our biological kids on backorder. Despite the scepticism, we stand firm in our choice, knowing that love makes a family, not just biology. We sought to educate those around us about the beauty and importance of adoption and to challenge the negative stereotypes that existed.

In October of 2020, a heartfelt post on Facebook caught the eye of my high school class teacher, who reached out and suggested that we reapply for adoption through a private agency. The journey was fraught with forms, interviews, medical tests, and a myriad of due diligence with government agencies but, divine whispers began to echo through our dreams and the voices of loved ones. My sister-cousin, Mama Ashley, dreamt of a handsome, light-skinned baby boy joining our family, and Mama Delight envisioned a celebration of new life shared by both our mothers in the same month. Miraculously, her dream came true as our son arrived the very month her own son was born. God's promise resonated in my own dreams, assuring us of an exceptionally brilliant and beautiful child. These celestial assurances bolstered our spirits and steeled our determination.

Early in 2021, as the government lifted its directive on adoption, February brought the culmination of our hopes—we were matched with our adorable, chubby, fair-skinned son, our precious "mzungu," lighting up our lives with boundless joy and fulfillment.

The day we finally met our son was a whirlwind of emotions, starting with a pre-dawn departure from Nairobi at 5 am filled with fear, anxiety, and excitement. The journey felt like an eternity, and I grappled with feeling like an imposter mother, a sentiment that lingered for months after his placement. I also struggled with pity, questioning why a birth mother would entrust another to care for her child. Amidst feeling unworthy, God healed my heart, reminding me of His presence and the divine purpose He had for our son's life through us. At 8:30 am, seeing our boy for the first time, perfection embodied, made every step of the journey worthwhile. Holding him brought an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude, reducing our fears to insignificance. By 9 pm, he was home, our hearts full, and with immense gratitude, we thank Titus & Wangui, Ann & Wilber—you are our family mpende msipende.

In sharing our story, we hope to inspire others who may be on a similar path. Adoption is a journey filled with highs and lows, but it is also a journey that brings extraordinary rewards. Our son is a testament to the beauty of love and the strength of the human spirit. He is our greatest joy, and we are forever grateful for the journey that brought him into our lives16.

As we continue to navigate the ever-changing landscape of parenthood, we do so with hearts full of love and gratitude. The anxiety, excitement, and fear that once defined our journey have given way to a deep and abiding sense of purpose. Our son is our greatest adventure, and we are honoured to be his parents

Laughs, Love, and Lessons from a Faith-Filled Decade - 10 years of wifery

Time flies when you are adulting, and let me tell you, these past ten years of marriage have been a rollercoaster of joy, faith, growth, wonder, and laughter. As I look back on this adventure, I'm filled with gratitude for the incredible journey the husband and I have riden.

We met at Lower Kabete Campus, UON in 2008, and I think we clicked instantly. First, because we enjoyed talking about our faith, and second, because I was just irresistibly cute and chatty 😊. Fast forward to 2012, we finally started dating, and by September 2014, we decided to jump the broom on a rainy day. Yes, we literally jumped over puddles to get to the altar! It was like a romantic comedy with a splash of rain – quite literally
Then came NDOA, and my greatest desire was to be ONE, in the literal sense of it. I imagined us praying together always, reading the Bible together always, driving to work together, driving back home together after work, visiting our families together... basically, everything together. But then reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Turns out, he's an evening person, and I'm a morning person. Our togetherness, especially in praying and Bible reading, was not together-ring 😒. Hanging out together all the time started to feel like being stuck in a never-ending episode of a reality show. I suddenly found myself wanting time away from this husband of my youth! Picture this: me, sneaking out of the house like a ninja, just to get a moment of peace. Who knew that "together forever" could sometimes feel like "together too much"?

Kidogo kidogo…..we navigated this togetherness madness and learnt that it is perfectly okay to give each other space, but to be very intentional in reconnecting many times to pursue ONENESS. Being the chatty one, I always share my thoughts, ideas, fears, frustrations, office gossip, with the husband, and this forces him to listen and share his nothing box with me. Also, praying together in our house is a must, but unlike most families, we make it short and precise because one of us is nocturnal. We also serve together in church and just hang out. It's like a sitcom where the characters finally figure out how to live together without driving each other crazy!!

Then there was an issue with how romance was expressed by the husband. Sijui prepare her before you meet in the evening, rose flowers, candle-lit dinners – all rumors and motivational speeches. First, the husband was and is a busy finance guy, and I was/am a busy auditor. Second, I had married a young man from a village in Mbooni, and he had married a ghetto girl from Mwiki. Mapenzi za preparation for evening mchana could not work for us, and we quickly navigated this romance thing like the Pokot bandits. We had to get creative with our romance – like turning our power outages into candle-lit dinners (thanks, Kenya Power!) and using our car rides to work as our version of date nights.

We disagreed about everything in our early years, including how the house was to be arranged. We are 2 choleric firstborns, a bit stiff necked & headstrong and we were building a little Gaza of a home, but thank God for His Word, it deals with the hard hearts and aligns us.
In our third year, through to our seventh, we experienced a monster of a season. For seven long years, we yearned for children, our hearts aching with every passing day. By the seventh year, we had joyfully coupled with four families, each blessed with beautiful children. For seven years, we faithfully served in the family ministry at church, surrounded by families, children, and pregnant friends and strangers. Yet, we were struggling with a seemingly endless wait. We were a whirlwind of emotions—anxious, hopeful, angry at and with God, fearful, and our faith wavering. We questioned God, believed in His Word one moment, and doubted it the next. It was a difficult and overwhelming time, but through it all, God graciously blessed us with the gift of parenthood in 2021 and again in 2023. Today, ‘gently parenting’ Mumo and Wema

My journey in 10 years of marriage has been nothing short of an adventure. Imagine a ride on Kenyan roads: some parts are flood-filled potholes that make you question your life choices, some bits are dusty and bumpy enough to give you an impromptu massage, and then there are those rare stretches like the expressway where you feel like you're gliding on air. Through it all, God has been my gracious chauffeur, navigating me through the chaos and the calm. Enter Mumo & Wema, my little bundles of joy who have taught me that parenting is often romanticized. These two have shown me that parenting toddlers requires an abundance of grace and a gentle heart. I'm praying for a gentle heart because, let's face it, parenting toddlers is like trying to herd cats – adorable, but utterly chaotic