Before I gave birth, I thought I knew how much my husband loved me. We had been married for three years, and he had always treated me well. But it was after our first child arrived that I understood the kind of man I had married.

I had watched enough videos about motherhood to believe I was prepared. I bought baby clothes, arranged our bedroom and even packed my hospital bag two months before my due date.

My labour was long and difficult. After several hours, the doctors became concerned, and I eventually delivered through an emergency caesarean section.

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Our daughter was healthy and that made me very happy until I tried getting out of bed. The pain was terrible. My legs felt weak, and I couldn’t stand properly. The doctors examined me and explained that I had developed complications that would require further treatment and physiotherapy.

I could barely walk without support. By the time we returned home, I was frightened of my own body. I couldn’t carry my daughter and walk around with her. Getting to the bathroom was a struggle. Sometimes I cried because I needed help doing things I had done for myself all my life.

My mother came to help but she had to return home after two weeks because of an emergency. That was when my husband took over. This man had never changed a diaper in his life. The first time he tried, he struggled so much that I started laughing.

He said, “Madam, don’t worry. I’ll soon become a professional.”

At night, when our daughter cried, he would wake up before me. He changed her diaper and brought her to me for feeding. When I was done, he carried her, burped her and put her back to sleep.

One morning, I tried walking to the bathroom without calling him because I didn’t want to disturb his sleep. I lost my balance and fell.

He rushed to hold me. He said, “You’re not beyond help. Ask. That’s why I’m here.”

I cried.

The most difficult part was bathing. I felt embarrassed having my husband help me wash my body. He never pretended everything was easy. I could see how tired he was. Our finances also took a big hit and that added to our worries but he never made me feel like a burden. By the time he had to go back to work, he worried I would be left alone. I told him I would manage just fine. He would call every hour to ask how we were doing.

There was a woman who had a provision shop not far from our house. All of a sudden she started coming to knock on my door every afternoon. She would say she was passing by and wanted to see if I was doing well. She would ask if there was something she could do to help. I allowed her to help me when I needed help. When she was leaving, she would tell me to call her when the need be. My husband would come from work and I would tell him how amazing that woman had been.

Unbeknownst to me, it was my husband who arranged with her to check in on me every day when he was out there working.

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Gradually, with treatment and physiotherapy, I started improving. The first day I walked from our bedroom to the living room without holding anyone, my husband clapped as though I had won an award. Then my mom returned to make our burden easier.

Our daughter is eight months old now. I’m much better, although I still attend occasional appointments.

People often say you know someone when money becomes difficult. I’ve learned that you also know someone when your body can no longer do the things it used to.

I pray he never has to experience what I went through. But if life ever puts him in a position where he needs me the way I needed him, I know exactly how I will love him.

—Deloris

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