This week marks five years since we met. Five years since we first fell in love so easily and deeply, after just a month and a half of every free moment spent connecting with one another at a depth neither one of our souls had known was possible.
Every day I love you more and more, my beloved husband. Each time I get cranky at you for not sweeping the floor, or you tease me for neglecting the dishes, I appreciate you even more because of the sheer silliness of the imperfections of your and my earthly humanness.
You’ve held my hand through so much.
Through disappointment in failed projects, anger in injustice, betrayal in friendships, frustration in emotional exhaustion. Through the anticipation of hatching baby chicks, the giddiness of seeds planted in the ground, and the nervous flutters of learning to swim in the Pacific Ocean. You’ve held my hand while snorkeling in the 50-degree sea near our home, while we’ve gotten lost in a snowstorm on the mountain, and when we encountered a sleepy bear one spring day in the remote temperate rainforest. You’ve cried my tears, our sorrow blending into one river cascading down our cheeks and into our hearts, and you’ve held my empty womb in the dark of the night as I wailed and wept for months after our first child died. This first child, so perfect and beautiful, this child that was half me and half you, the most precious and tangible representation of our love for one other, now dead and gone forever. The part of you that died, the part of you that breaks my heart forever.
You hold my hand and my belly gleefully now, smiling broadly as our second child kicks at your palm.
You read us stories every night, your low gentle voice guiding both me and the wee one into the slumber of sleep and imagination. You say good morning every day to this child of ours, you put your mouth on my belly and boom, “This is your father!” proudly and goofily. When I have rough days you hold the vulnerability in my eyes and heart, and you remember how much you love both our babies. You are excited and hopeful when you tell your friends, “Libby is pregnant again,” and I love that you never discount our first babe in the bittersweetness of our life. You have full faith that I will bring our child into this world by the power of my own mind and body, that my intuition will steer us in the right direction. You have no fear and surrender all your trust as I continue to make unconventional hands-off pregnancy decisions, because you believe in your heart that I know what is best for this baby and me.
You believe in me every step of the way, and I suppose that is the biggest vow we made to each other two and a half years ago when we said, “I Do.” I believe in you too, darling, more than anything. And I believe in our family and the journey we’ve all ventured on together, not knowing how any of it will end, but always here trusting and holding one another no matter what.
My dear husband, here’s to many many more years and decades of life together.
There will be laughter, tear-stained cheeks, dancing in the hallway, fears and worries, births and funerals, many firsts and many lasts, and everything else in between. Thank you for being my partner in life, forever and always.
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