Kenya, Sept. 30 -- The day our daughter was born should've been pure magic. Sam gripped my hand, tears streaming as our baby's first cry filled the room. I thought that moment locked our love in forever. But three months later, I felt like a ghost in my own marriage. Sam grew distant. No more goodnight kisses, no tender touches. We'd lie in bed, side by side, but worlds apart. I chalked it up to new-parent exhaustion at first-sleepless nights, endless nappies. Yet, deep down, something felt off.
I'd reach for him, craving connection, but he'd nudge my hand away, saying, "You need rest; you just had a baby." His words sounded sweet, but his eyes built a wall I couldn't climb. As months passed, the silence in our bedroom grew suffocating. I doubted myself-my body, my worth. Alone in the bathroom, I'd cry quietly. Friends hinted some men drift after childbirth, maybe even stray. That thought broke me. Doctors said intimacy often takes time post-baby. But nothing changed. It felt like an invisible thief had stolen our spark. One day, I poured my heart out to a friend. She listened, then gently asked. Continue Reading
Published by HT Digital Content Services with permission from Bana Kenya.