My relationship with Danny was bittersweet. In our final year, he betrayed me. I fell pregnant, and he almost immediately asked me to take it out. “We have our whole lives ahead of us. Let’s not destroy it by bringing a child into the mix.”

“We are almost at the end of the tunnel,” I told him. “I would keep it, give birth, we’d have the naming ceremony and engagement at once, and then we’d live happily ever after.”

Danny refused to see it that way. He was bent on me terminating the pregnancy. I was just as strong-headed and paid no attention to him.

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I lost the baby at seven months. He was there. He comforted me and said we would have another baby again. “This one, when it comes, it will be at the right time, and we’d have it.” He said maybe it was God’s will.

I felt he didn’t understand my pain, the pain of carrying a child for seven months and then losing it. While he was comforting me, I made up my mind to get pregnant again. I believed it was a way to heal from the loss. The next time we were intimate, I made sure I was careless and skipped the after pill. It worked. I got pregnant a few months later.

This time, I was very careful and diligent with the pregnancy. I didn’t want to lose this one. I walked slowly, coughed carefully, chewed my food bit by bit, all to protect the baby.

After everything, I still lost the baby, at exactly nine months.

I mourned again, another baby I couldn’t carry home. I craved comfort, but Danny thought I was exaggerating. He asked me to let it go and move on. I told him he was not the one who carried the pregnancy, so he had no right to tell me how to grieve. I accused him of carrying such bad energy that it was why my babies wouldn’t stay.

I broke up with him and did everything under the sun to forget he existed. Two years later, I saw his message in my DMs. It was a long letter apologising for not being the man he should have been. “I was foolish and young, and I am so sorry for what you went through. I am ready to start again, if you will have me.” He sounded so remorseful.

His acceptance of fault was what encouraged me to invite him over so we could talk, so we could have the closure we needed, close that chapter, and decide whether to try again or leave it there. A lot happened for the whole week he came to visit, including sex.

I knew it was a mistake that was never supposed to happen. While he was here, I was on every contraceptive available to avoid pregnancy. I bought the after pill, and took it as prescribed to avoid pregnancy. This time, in the deepest part of my heart, I didn’t want to go through that turmoil again. I had learned my lesson, and I didn’t want to fall back into that hole with him.

But God has a funny way of making jokes. I got pregnant anyway, and it was the same old story. He was not involved. He didn’t call to check on me. He simply disappeared, as if he never existed.

My pregnancy suffered complications. I was transferred to a special hospital for proper treatment so I could carry the babies to full term. I emptied almost all of my bank savings and my business savings to pay the hospital bills. Everything cost huge sums of money. Danny didn’t offer to pay half, or even a quarter, of it. I bore it all, because my decision to never terminate a child again is what brought this on me.

I gave birth to two strong twin boys through a C-section in December. When they finished cleaning them and placed them in my arms, it felt like a big win after the two I had lost.

I had to leave my business in the hands of my employee to take care of them after birth. There was no help coming from anywhere. It was all me. I was new to this mothering thing, and juggling business and two newborns would have broken me, so staying home was my only option. And I thank God I didn’t go ahead to end my life. Postpartum depression is no joke, but I survived it.

When the boys turned nine months old, I enrolled them in daycare so I could get back to my business, which was by then struggling badly. It was my only source of income.

This December, the boys will be two years old, and Danny has never bought them a diaper, a toy, a book, or a snack. Taking care of them gets harder and more expensive by the month. I buy everything in twos and pay for every provision in twos. It is a massacre each time I look at my finances.

During school vacations, I have to be home with them because my work environment isn’t set up to accommodate children. That’s why, this time around, I’m struggling to get them back into school.

I have called Danny more times than I can count. He doesn’t pick up. I asked him for money to take care of his own children. I didn’t take them anywhere, and they are not another man’s children. They are his children. He should pay their fees. This semester, help me provide for them.

Have I not tried enough? I know in my heart I have.

If they get back to school, I can pick my business back up. That’s all I’m asking of him.

It has gotten to the point where I need to take legal action against him so he does right by the children. Not that in years to come, he can simply show up to enjoy the fruits of my labour.

Is There A Man Out There Who Doesn’t Cheat?

How do I start from here? I’ve been told that going to CHRAJ will be a waste of time because he lives in Takoradi and we are in Accra. I don’t understand how any of this works, but I need it to work so Danny can provide for his children.

I am getting too tired. But I need to know where I can go.

— Redeemer
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