I went during my lunch break—rushed, a little anxious, but told no one. I dashed down from North Kaneshie to Korle-Bu to pick up my results. I told myself it was routine. Just a quick stop. In and out. When I arrived, the doctors didn’t get straight to the point. Instead, one asked gently, “How many children do you have?” That question caught me off guard. Why did it matter? Then they asked if they could pray. That’s when I knew. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. C H A P T E R 5 grace Carried Me “If you don’t know my story, you won’t understand my praise.” 26 The Birthday Journal
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