Marriage

I got married nearly 13 years ago.  I have to admit, I thought I loved him that day.  Honestly, I wasn't sure if I loved him as much as he deserved. I had dated a guy who broke my heart a couple of years before I met Randy, and the whole experience left me a bit jaded, to say the least.  I never regained that "innocent, happily ever after, everything will work out splendidly" outlook that I had once.  (I now see that outlook synonymous to arrogance.) I didn't think enough of myself to believe that my husband wouldn't eventually regret his decision. Even after the boyfriend  break-up, my criteria for a husband was straight-forward and never changed, but mostly for my future children. My mother so wisely told me growing up: "Marry a man who will raise your children in church, teaching them the Bible. You need to know that if you died while giving birth, your children would still be raised in a Godly home." So I married this extraordinarily nice man who made me laugh. He immediately came to church services with me (before we married), and he clearly had a heart of gold. And I loved him. We had fun.  We waited a year and a half and we were told (at a dr's appointment to discuss possible infertility issues) that we would be parents.  It was my husband's birthday.  We had a girl, as Randy had predicted.  Two years later we added a baby boy. And I still loved my husband. We were mostly a happy family, but I still had my own issues.  I had the "baby blues" after my son was born.  Just for a little while, but it was enough that I decided afterwards that if we had another baby, I would consider anti-depressants rather than "work through it" and miss out on the sheer bliss that should come with a new baby. We still had fun, but I think that we had boring, monotonous days more often.  And that was okay because, in hindsight, those are often the very best days.  And I still loved my husband.  It wasn't always easy though. I remember telling him once, "Sometimes I love you more than I ever thought I could, and then ten minutes later, I think really bad things about you." He just laughed.  I think I figured out a long time ago NOT to say anything right away when I have a complaint. Or if I am just irritated. I also figured out that whoever said not to go to sleep angry is crazy. Sometimes, after a good night's sleep, you wake up refreshed and the whole incident seems a little less important. (Might I add, a baby is a family adjustment for everyone.)

Fast forward to 2012. One more baby later (with no post-partum emotional issues, thankfully), and I still love my husband. He is still here, and he is still fully vested in our family. We are so incredibly busy, but there is a lot of love in our home. And my issues are mine- I can't dislike myself for something and assign those feelings to Randy. It isn't productive and it isn't fair. 

I still have issues that just seem to grow some days. The other night I just poured out my heart to my husband.  I have had a hard time the last few months, and he listened. He offered a lot of insight without judgment.  I wondered why I had waited weeks to talk to him- it was like a weight had been lifted. I love and respect him so much. And I'll be honest- the day I married him was nice, but I didn't really love him then- not compared to how I feel about him now.