When I look back at my life and all the changes that have happened in the past years, all I can do is thank God that I am still here. Before all this began, I was in a happy marriage with one child. And then I got pregnant with our second child. As the routine goes, I went to the hospital and got all the necessary tests done so I could begin my antenatal visits. The results were good. I was in good health and ready to continue my pregnancy journey. I went about my life buzzing with expectations of our incoming child. My husband and I started making preparations to accommodate this new change. Everything was fine one night before I went to bed. Only for me to wake up the next morning with severe abdominal pain and blood all over my sheets. I was bleeding.

We went to the hospital, and just as I feared, I had miscarried. All my hopes and expectations for the baby came crumbling at my feet. I fell completely apart, but my husband’s strong hands were there, holding me together. When we went home I fell into a dark place. I was in emotional pain. My heart was sick. I tried to pull my weight and find my way back to the light but it was hard. After a while, my psychological health started to affect my physical health. There was always something wrong with me. Today, it’s a headache, tomorrow, it’s dizziness. The next day it’s something else. This is how I felt until I visited the hospital. Several tests were run, and it came out that I was HIV positive. “How did I get infected? When did it happen? Where or who infected me?” These were questions that haunted me.

Considering the fact that my HIV test came out negative at the beginning of the pregnancy I miscarried, it was difficult for me to accept that I had the virus. My other thought was that if indeed I was infected, then my husband was the cause. He was the only person I was sexually involved with. So we got him tested as well. Shockingly, this man’s results came out negative. This led us to believe that the hospital made a mistake with my results. So we went to a different hospital and run another test. It still came out positive. We didn’t accept it so we went to two more hospitals but the results were sadly the same. I couldn’t believe it. The whole thing didn’t make sense. My grief became double.

While I was going through this, I thought my husband would stand by me and help me go through this unfortunate situation. But he had other plans. The man went about telling his family, and our mutual friends about my diagnosis. He spoke to our church folks as well. He did all this without caring about the stigma I would be dealt with. He told everyone that he was planning to divorce me. I didn’t know that was his intention until I heard the rumours in town. His family who didn’t support our marriage in the first place endorsed his decision to leave me. I even overheard his sisters jubilating over the news.

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Some people told me, “This sickness of yours could be spiritual. What if your in-laws who don’t like you bought the sickness for you in the spiritual realm? Pray and ask God for healing. There’s nothing impossible for him.” After praying fervently, I had a dream that someone was drawing my blood. The whole thing was strange but I couldn’t interpret the dream. Later I went for cd4 count and I was told the result read 100. I was advised to start taking the ARV so that I wouldn’t progress to the next stage, AIDS. I took the medicine for two weeks but I kept getting sicker. This was because of my basket mouth of a husband. He told everyone who cared to know, “My wife is sick so I am divorcing her.” And every time I heard him say this, my sickness worsened.

I even stopped taking the medication completely and asked God to come for me. I just couldn’t take the humiliation and the stigma anymore. I was constantly crying, and my sad state took a toll on our child. At some point, I was always talking to myself. That was the part where I almost lost my sanity. Eventually, my husband divorced me and happily married a very beautiful woman. I could tell that he relished the satisfaction he got from destroying my life. Nonetheless, I refused to let him have the last laugh, so I gathered the shattered pieces of my life and moved to another town with my child.

I got a fresh start and an opportunity to rewrite my story. I got a job, and I started healing. It’s been a year now, and I look healthy. I also feel healthy even though I was not on medication. Along the line, I met a doctor whose advice changed my perspective on life and gave me hope. He said; “I can confidently say you have done very well coming this far in your journey and your ability to raise your child alone. Only God knows best why you went through a big test like this. All I can tell you is that death is inevitable. It is the afterlife that lasts forever. So between now and the time we die, we have to survive and keep renewing our faith. God has made your child your companion to strengthen you. it’s hard and I will not take that from you at all but you need to move on. It’s necessary that you live your life to the fullest. Don’t allow one unfortunate situation to rob you of hope and self-preservation. Start taking the medication so you can live a healthy life.”

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He went on to remind me that God is capable of all things. He encouraged me to allow myself to be positive so that I can attract all the good things and good people that I need to enrich my life. I believe that God will restore unto me everything I have lost, just as he did for Job. But I also know that in order to see his goodness in the land of the living, I need to take my medication and take good care of myself. I almost lost everything including my life but God has kept me alive. For that, I am hopeful that things will turn around.

So I’m here asking for your prayers as I embark on the journey to start my ARV again. I trust that if I do my part, God will also do his part. I also want to encourage others who find themselves in a similar situation as mine, not to lose hope. God always has a way of taking care of his own.

–Ella

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