Three Prophecies. Two Miscarriages. One Impossible Year.
In February 2006, a stranger called me to the front of a church and told me I would give birth to a son. I didn't know then everything that would have to happen first.
What followed was four and a half years I could never have prepared for. A condition called fibroids I'd never heard of. A pool of blood in a classroom full of police officers. Two miscarriages — the first a twin pregnancy lost in February 2008, the second in November of that same year. A surgery scheduled three separate times, and cancelled three separate times, each cancellation feeling like both a setback and, somehow, a sign.
After the second loss, I made a decision that changed everything. I would not have the surgery. Instead, I gave myself a year to find another way — researching everything I could find on natural fertility, herbal medicine, cycle charting, and the preparation of the body for conception. I became, as my husband would say, a woman completely obsessed.
In August 2009, my husband agreed to complete a 28-day detox alongside me — both of us, together, for the first time treating this as a shared journey rather than mine to carry alone. Five months later, in January 2010, my basal body temperature chart told me what a pregnancy test would later confirm.
On September 7th, 2010, I delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy. I was 42 years old. I had conceived at 41. There was no IVF. There was no surgery. There was a prophecy, a great deal of grief, an entire year of research — and, in the end, a son named Malik.
This book is that whole story — told exactly as it happened, including the parts that don't fit neatly into a typical fertility guide. The prophecies. The faith. The fear. And embedded throughout, quietly, the actual protocol that prepared my body for the pregnancy that finally held.