The first time I met my husband, Michael, was at a church meeting. I had just moved from the mainland branch of our church to the island branch, and it happened to be my first time there, which meant it was also the first time I’d ever noticed him.
I’m an actor and had featured in several stage plays in church, so after the meeting, he walked up, introduced himself, and told me he was a fan of my work and had been following me on Instagram. I just thanked him and thought nothing much of it.
The next time we saw each other at church, I asked him to take a picture of me. It might look like I was plotting something, but he just happened to be the only person around when I wanted one taken. Later, I asked if he was heading in my direction, and he said yes, so he gave me a ride home. That’s when we realised we actually lived close to each other. From then on, he started picking me up and dropping me off after every service. Over time, we became friends, exchanged contact details, grew closer, and, well, as the saying goes, the rest is history.
Before I met Michael, I had been intentionally single for about two years and wasn’t looking for a relationship at all, but he proved to be consistent in a way most people weren’t, and I could be myself around him without feeling like I had to perform or pretend. We shared the same values and wanted similar things out of life, and our friendship developed so naturally that choosing him just felt right. Michael was exactly what I’d prayed to God for in a partner.
We dated for ten months before he proposed, and we got married six months after that.
One could say I found out I was pregnant almost by accident. I wasn’t feeling too well, and to be honest, I thought it was malaria. Due to my medical history, pregnancy wasn’t even on my mind, but I took a test just so I could rule it out and actually find out what was going on. But then two lines appeared on the strip, and my mind went blank.
Completely stunned, I walked, or maybe ran, out of the bathroom into the living room, where Michael was. Tears were already streaming down my face because for us, this was a miracle we had been trusting God for. I couldn’t even get the words out, so I just handed him the test strip and ran off.
He ran into our bedroom and wrapped me in the longest hug, and then he started crying too, so at that point, it had turned into a crying competition. While he was still holding me, he started thanking God and praying over both our baby and us. His response didn’t surprise me at all, and I mean that in the best way, because Michael has always been deeply rooted in his faith, so seeing him immediately thank God and pray over us was just the most natural response for him.
What touched and warmed my heart was seeing how emotional he got. The way he thanked God with so much sincerity reminded me that this wasn’t just my answered prayer. It was ours.
Michael was so protective of me during my pregnancy. He made sure to look out for my peace, my mental well-being, my health, and every part of me.
I remember the day I lost a friend, and another friend called to break the news to me. It was Michael who immediately stepped in, took the phone, spoke with her, and made sure devastating news like that didn’t reach me again. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from me. He just understood how emotionally overwhelming something like that could be while I was pregnant, and that moment has stayed with me ever since.
That same care showed up in so many other ways. He took responsibility for preparing for our baby’s arrival, and I didn’t have to shop for a single thing because he handled it all himself, right down to my own postpartum essentials. He attended my antenatal classes with me, and having him by my side made me feel deeply supported.
I could barely cook while I was pregnant because the smell of almost every meal made me nauseous. Michael wasn’t much of a cook back then, but that never stopped him from trying. To me, it didn’t really matter whether the food turned out perfectly. What meant the most was the love and effort he put into every meal. He called his sister for recipes, watched YouTube tutorials, and did whatever it took to make sure I never went hungry.
His care carried into the little everyday moments, too. He gave me foot rubs and massages almost every night, especially on the days my body felt heavy or sore. There were times I didn’t feel as confident as I used to, and he never let me stay in that headspace for too long. He always reminded me I was beautiful and that what my body was doing was incredible. On the days I didn’t have the strength to go to the salon, he’d arrange for my hairstylist to come to the house instead.
He even downloaded the same pregnancy app I was using, and I’d often find him reading about our baby’s development and learning how to better care for me at each stage. Around the house, he took over. He cooked, cleaned, and ran errands without complaining or making me feel guilty about it.
Pregnancy hormones are no joke, and there were times I didn’t even know what was wrong with me, let alone how to explain it to him. Somehow, he learned to read me. He gave me space when I needed it and held me or simply sat with me when I needed comfort instead. He was so patient with me throughout that entire season, and he never once made me feel like I was too much.
If you ask me whether there was a single hard day when he had to swoop in and fix everything, I honestly can’t think of one, because that wasn’t the kind of support he gave me. He didn’t only show up when things got difficult. He showed up every single day, in big ways and small ones, and that’s what I’ll always remember.
I had a scheduled C-section because our son was quite big. He was born weighing 4.3 kilograms, and with the pregnancy-induced hypertension and gestational diabetes, it was the safest option for both of us. We already knew the hospital didn’t allow partners into the theatre, but that didn’t stop Michael from trying anyway. He pleaded with the surgeon himself, hoping he’d be an exception, and even after being told no, he didn’t give up.
My surgery was scheduled for 3 p.m., and up until I was called into the receiving room, I had been excited to finally meet our son and put all the discomforts of pregnancy behind me. But the moment I was wheeled into that room, fear suddenly overwhelmed me, and I burst into tears and asked to see Michael.
He came in immediately and started praying over me, wiping my tears between prayers and reassuring me that everything would be okay, and his calmness helped assuage my fears. When he saw me being prepared for surgery, I could tell he was worried too, and since he couldn’t come into the theatre, he literally knelt and begged the nurses to let him stay in the receiving room so he could be as close to me as possible. When they realised that he was not going anywhere, they eventually agreed.
While I was still lying on the operating table, one of the nurses came in laughing and told me my husband was worrying himself sick outside, trying to get in by all means. The joy that filled my heart was the last thing I remembered before going into deep sleep. When I woke up hours later, they told me Michael had eventually wormed his way into the theatre in the end.
Looking back, Michael’s actions during my pregnancy taught me that love is best expressed through consistency. He’s thoughtful and dependable, and he didn’t just show up for the exciting milestones. He also showed up every single day in the ordinary moments, too. That period revealed a side of him that made me respect him even more. It confirmed that I had chosen a man who serves his family out of love, not obligation.
It also strengthened our friendship and deepened the trust between us. We learned how to lean on each other in a completely new way, becoming more intentional about communicating, supporting one another, and facing every challenge as a team.
More than anything, I want our son to know that he was loved long before he was born. I want him to know that his dad didn’t just love him. He loved me well while I was carrying him. He protected my peace, cared for my health, celebrated every milestone, and made sure I never felt alone.
If I could thank Michael for one thing from that season, it would be for making pregnancy feel like our journey instead of mine. Every appointment, every milestone, every uncomfortable day, and every joyful moment, he was there. That unwavering presence is one of the greatest gifts he’s ever given me, and it’s something I’ll never forget.
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