Blogging has been a bit difficult for me throughout this pregnancy, because I still feel guilty even being pregnant around here. So I haven’t been documenting as much as I normally would have.
One thing I cannot overlook anymore is the need to write about my husband.
A and I had a whirlwind romance. We were friends for a year, and dated for just about 9 months when we got engaged April 2007. We were engaged for 16 months and got married three and a half years ago in August 2008. We are coming up on six years of being together.
Looking back, I can’t really tell you why I wanted to marry A. I don’t mean that to sound rude. I only mean that I didn’t have any romantic notions about marriage; mainly, I just knew that A was very different from my previous boyfriends, and I wanted to mark that difference publicly and in front of my family.
I think the first year of marriage is rough for most couples, and we were no exception. Just about a year into marriage, we hit our first fertility hurdles, and I don’t need to explain to you how difficult that can be for a couple.
Somehow, we have made it work. As soon as we hit a true challenge like infertility, everything we had argued about in the previous months seemed so frivolous.
My respect for him grew deeper as I watched him put his life on hold to pursue treatments to start a family with me. His respect for me also grew, as he watched how dedicated I was in my goal of being a mother.
When I think about the TTC years with A, I always think about the day of my last egg retrieval. I was so, so ill, and I kept passing out every time I stood up. He was literally picking me up off the floor that day. But he picked me up off the floor so many times before that, figuratively speaking, that it seemed fitting.
My husband held me when our first IVF cycle came crashing down around us with a terrible fertilization report. While I cried through a heartache I had never experienced before, I asked him “Am I overreacting here?” and he assured me that I was not - I was grieving.
My husband held me on Mother’s days, he wiped tears from my eyes at countless appointments, and his job was not done when I got pregnant. He picks me up and puts together the pieces every time I need him. And he’s never asked for anything in return.
This kind of emotional intelligence and willingness to support me by validating my feelings is rare in men. I can’t say that my dad was this way towards my mom.
Not only is he supportive and kind, but we have fun together. We make each other laugh. We are best friends.
I want to raise a son just like my husband.
I have a friend who is in her 40s and single. She had a partner for 7 years but that relationship ended (badly) a year ago. Recently, she has suffered a disabling injury. She can’t drive, shower or dress herself, and can barely manage her pain.
Watching her suffer has opened my eyes to a whole new world of marriage. I can’t imagine living alone and dealing with incapacitating pain. I feel so lucky to have a partner who has proven his ability to stop caring about himself in order to care for me.
Occasionally I worry about how this baby will affect our marriage. I know it won’t be easy. But going into parenthood, our marriage is stronger than it has ever been.
This is what love is all about.