About the author

I was born and raised in Quincy, Florida, to Harriet C. Hinsn and Edward Henry Jr., both rooted in the same small town that shaped my earliest memories. Though I was raised by a single mother, I was richly surrounded by love — covered by family, nurtured by community, and deeply cherished by my late grandmother and best friend, Ruby Lee Moten. I grew up in a time when children played freely together, when laughter echoed through the streets, and when the glow of streetlights signaled it was time to come home. Those moments taught me belonging, connection, and the value of community. My education began at George W. Munroe Elementary, a place that poured into us on the east side of Gadsden County, and continued at Carter-Paramore Middle School — where teachers didn’t just teach, they cared. It was there that something inside me shifted. Freedom became real. My voice began to wake up. As the second oldest of four, life carried responsibility early. It wasn’t always easy, but perseverance became familiar. I went on to attend James A. Shanks High School and graduated as part of the last graduating class in 2002. Shortly after, life changed dramatically. I became pregnant, returned to summer school to raise my credits, and officially received my diploma in 2003. I was pregnant at eighteen. A mother by nineteen. I entered motherhood single, still discovering who I was, and learning how to love a small human while unsure if I fully knew how to love myself. Every wound, every barrier, every unhealed place had to be buried — not because the pain disappeared, but because life was no longer just about me. Motherhood demanded strength. Faith demanded surrender. And purpose demanded growth. Today, my story is not one of shame — it is one of becoming. What God refined in me was never meant to stop with me. It was meant to shine, to heal, and to remind others that no matter how buried you feel, you can still rise — radiant, whole, and on fire with purpose.

The most important turning point in my journey — and the foundation of this book — was not a location, a title, or a breakthrough. It was identity. For a long time, I searched for who I was in survival, in motherhood, in relationships, and in responsibility. I tried to define myself by what I endured, what I carried, and what I had to hold together. But no matter how strong I became, something was always missing. Everything changed when I stopped asking, “Who do I need to be to survive?” and started asking, “Who does God say that I am?” Seeking my identity in God shifted how I saw myself, my past, and my future. I began to understand that I wasn’t broken — I was becoming. That the delays weren’t punishment — they were preparation. That obedience wasn’t loss — it was alignment. When I surrendered my need to figure everything out and allowed God to define me, clarity replaced confusion. Peace replaced striving. Direction replaced fear. This book was born from that revelation. I Will Not Miscarry My Purpose is not just a story about moving cities, enduring hardship, or surviving seasons of transition. It is a testimony of what happens when a woman allows God to be the source of her identity — not pain, not people, and not circumstances. When identity is rooted in God, purpose no longer feels fragile. It becomes protected. And once I understood who I was in Him, everything else began to fall into place — not because life became easy, but because I finally knew who I was becoming.