Did you know the number one cause of death for women who are pregnant…
is homicide?
I been on the other end of the threat,
so I know they ain’t never lied.

“Get rid of it… or else.”
“I can find you… and show you what I’d do.”
That wasn’t a maybe, that was a promise.
I swallowed fear with the pill they call Plan B,
but God’s plan overruled it, undeniably.
And ten months later…

I gave birth.

The Genesis of my Journee 
a path I never planned to see.
Spelled differently
but Heaven knew what she’d mean to me.

Tried a homebirth ‘cause I feared the system’s damage.
Did you know Black women are three times more likely
to die from malpractice?
This ain’t just stats, this is fact wrapped in trauma.
I was just a Black mama,
fighting for her baby,
in a world that always betrayed me.

Adrenaline had my body trembling.
Fear of the unknown had my mind disassembling.
“I want an epidural,”
I cried out when the nurses rolled in.
“You’re 9.5 cm, you’re not getting it.”

Didn’t even get a moment to scream.
Just ten minutes.
three pushes.
and there she was…
Genesis, my dream.

I was alone.
afraid.
In a cold hospital room.
Holding warmth in my arms,
but no hand to hold through.

I vowed then and there,
with this blood still fresh,
and my soul laid bare
no man will consume
the temple of my womb
unless he’s my husband
not just a moment, but a covenant.