Shamika Rhoomes

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M is for the many questions that keep me up at night.

The why me’s and how can this be?

You see the marvel of infertility is mind-blowing.

As a Wombman, your expectancy of pregnancy is always anticipated.

And yet, my divinity is a conundrum which has mystified me.

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R is for the reality I’ve come to terms with.

This really has been a journey…

Realistically, I would love for my infertility to not be.

But in real-time, in this real world, and with the radical waves of life, I’ve grown into my radiance.

The righteous sisters I’ve met along this road-trip of life have made each rest-stop, remarkable.

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K is for the kindhearted doctors that try their best, knowing they know nothing of this rare diagnosis.

Knowledge that I am 1 in 5,000.

I am a kindle of flame that flows like a kite in the night.

I am my own knight in shining armor, needing to knead into myself like dough, in order to keepsake each and every circumstance.

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H is for the history I’ve had with this diagnosis dug so deep.

I had believed this was a hex put on me for the haunting.

Sitting in that hospital room at 17 with those 4 letters hovering and hazing over my whole entire existence.

Yet, here I am, holding my head high.

No one likes to say but, many times the healing hurts more than the wound.

This hurt has been helpful, in a way honorable.

I am able to find hope in the hospitality of my healing.

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