When his family told him to leave me, he stood by me. They called me names because of our misfortunes but he was unmoved by their pressure. We made a vow that we would stick together for better or worse, and he was determined to stay through the worse phase of our lives. I must also say that while he was holding me together, I was also holding him together.

Right from the moment we got married, my husband lost his job. He didn’t have a side business or savings to fall on. I became the sole breadwinner for our family. I paid our rent, and bills, gave him pocket money, clothed him, and bought him gifts every once in a while. By all traditional standards, I became the man in the marriage.

While I was busy keeping our family going financially, I was also trying to continue our lineage. Unfortunately, things were not easy on that front. For six whole years, we struggled. The problem didn’t have to do with conception. Although that part didn’t come easily, it was not what kept us up at night. Our troubles had to do with the fact that we lost five babies within the period of six years.

We would struggle for me to get pregnant only to end up losing the baby. Doctors tried everything they could to prevent the lost of the babies but it kept happening. Notice how I use the word babies instead of miscarriages? That’s because my babies were always born sleeping. Or as some would say it, stillbirth. The one who came out breathing lived for only eighteen weeks. He was not fully developed so there was nothing we could do to save him.

It was at this point that my in-laws insisted that my husband should leave me. But he held my hand and assured me, “We are in this together. I am not going anywhere.” Those were dark times in our marriage. I was always sad. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night wailing. Through it all, this man was my rock. He remained strong when I fell apart. He comforted me when I was inconsolable. And he kept encouraging me that someday, the stars will align and our prayers will be answered.

One day someone introduced him to a herbalist in Kumasi who started giving me herbs. While I was taking the herbal treatments, we decided to start a business so my husband would run it seeing as his search for a job wasn’t fruitful. My savings wasn’t enough to finance the business so we agreed that I would go for a loan to top up.

I took a loan of GHC30,000. Just when we received the money I realized I was pregnant. I was always so sick that I had to be placed on bed rest. My husband had to do everything. We spent a lot of money on expensive drugs from the hospital and the herbalist as well.

In my sixth month, I started experiencing the symptoms I get when I am about to lose a baby. The herbalist insisted, “Tell the doctor to perform an emergency C.S. and take out the baby.” We communicated this to the doctor but he refused. However, after a week of monitoring us, he changed his mind. He told us, “The baby is shrinking instead of growing.”

I had surgery and the baby was placed in the intensive care unit. We stayed in the hospital for three months before my baby was discharged. Finally, we had a healthy child who survived the first three months of their life. That is the answer to our prayers. We should be happy, right?

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Unfortunately, we only encountered new problems when we got home. My money was finished. The one I gave to my husband to start the business with also finished. There was no business to show for the loan we took but I had to start paying it off. While I was doing this I was still taking care of the house.

Our rent expired, and feeding became a problem. When my husband realized that things were so bad, he got up one day and told me; “Dear, I have to travel to the north to attend a friend’s funeral.” It’s been eight months now and he is not back. No, he is not missing or worse. He just decided to run away from home because I no longer have the resources to make life comfortable for him.

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This is a man I would have stuck out my neck and sworn that he would never leave me no matter the challenges we face. It turns out everyone has a breaking point. And his breaking point is being broke. He doesn’t pick up my calls most of the time. The days he picks up, he either picks a fight with me or begs for my forgiveness. I am practically a single mother now. I have to pay someone to take care of our baby so I can work and pay off our debts and provide for the baby’s needs.

It hasn’t been easy. This song of victory God gave me, I didn’t get the chance to sing it loudly before I got hit by another storm. But I know the God I serve. I know he will see us through and give us a testimony. For this reason, I will not give up.

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—Cat

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