Tolu's Tuesday: a short story about the morning it came

The alarm went off at six, and Tolu knew before she was fully awake. That dull pull low in her back. The heaviness in her hips. She lay still for a minute, eyes on the ceiling fan, and let herself hope for one more breath that she was wrong.

She wasn't. In the bathroom, the small red stain said what her body had already told her.

She sat on the edge of the bath and did not cry, not at first. She thought about the spreadsheet on her phone, eleven months of dates and notes. She thought about the cousin whose naming ceremony was on Saturday. She thought about how she had let herself count, just a little, this time. Then the tears came, quietly, the kind you try to keep from waking anyone.

The first small choice

Her husband, Femi, knocked gently. He didn't have to ask. He sat down beside her on the cold tiles and put his arm around her. He didn't say “next month” or “God's time is the best.” He just said, “I'm sorry, love. I was hoping too.”

That was enough for a while.

Later, she would tell her friend that the most helpful thing he did all day was the least dramatic. He made tea, filled a hot water bottle, and took her phone away from her for an hour so she wouldn't scroll.

The prayer without words

Tolu tried to pray that morning, but everything she started to say sounded either too polite or too angry. In the end she simply sat in the armchair by the window with her Bible open on her lap at the story of Hannah, a woman who also knew what it was to wait.

She read Hannah's answer when the priest thought she was drunk because she was praying so intensely:

“And Hannah answered and said, No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the LORD.” (1 Samuel 1:15, KJV)

Tolu read it twice. A woman of a sorrowful spirit. Someone in the Bible had said that out loud, in the house of God, and had not been sent away. She closed her eyes and said, “Lord, that's me today.” It was the most honest prayer she had prayed in months.

The ordinary middle of the day

She still had to go to work. She chose her comfiest outfit and packed painkillers her pharmacist had recommended, a snack, and a period-proof spare in her bag. At lunch she ate a proper meal, jollof rice with beans and greens, instead of skipping it as she usually did on bad days. She noticed she felt slightly less wobbly afterwards.

A colleague announced she was expecting. Tolu felt the familiar sting. She smiled, said congratulations, then went to the bathroom and breathed slowly for two minutes. She sent Femi a one-word text: “Hard.” He replied with a heart and, “Proud of you. Home soon.”

The evening

That evening they did three small things they had agreed on months earlier for days like this:

1. She wrote today's date in her tracker as day one, and nothing more.
2. They ate dinner together without talking about trying to conceive at all.
3. Before bed, they prayed together, short and honest: “Father, we are sad. We trust You with what we cannot see. Hold us.”

Tolu also sent a message to her cousin: she would not make it to the naming ceremony this time, but she was so happy for her and would visit the baby soon. She felt guilty for a moment, then remembered that protecting her heart this week was not a sin.

What Tolu wanted other women to know

A few weeks later, she wrote some notes for a friend who was also trying. Perhaps they will help you too:

• Plan your day one in advance. Decide with your partner or a friend what helps, so you don't have to think on the hard morning.
• Let God hear the real words. He is not shocked by sorrow.
• Eat and rest, even when you don't feel like it. Your body is part of how you get through this.
• Say no without shame. Some events can wait.
• Get checked. After twelve months of trying (or six if you are over 35), Tolu and Femi booked an appointment with their doctor together. It was a relief to stop guessing alone.

Tolu's story is not finished, and neither is yours. Whatever happens next, you are not alone in the bathroom on day one. God is there, and so are many women who understand.

A prayer for a sorrowful morning

Lord, like Hannah, I come to You with a sorrowful spirit. I pour out my soul before You without pretending. Meet me in the ordinary moments of this day and carry me through to the evening. Amen.