14 years ago I started dating the man I would eventually marry. The man who gave me the two most precious things in my life - Wyatt and Harper. And the man who has picked me up off the floor more times than I can count. Our life together has been blessed. Through good times and bad we've stood together against it all - bickering like an old married couple - but together nonetheless. I always think of them as the gut check - the talks we have late at night after the kids are asleep and when we should be too (these talks always seem to happen mid-week and they ruin our mutual love of an early bedtime). We finally get out the little and big annoyances that have been bothering us and we re-connect. Those talks have done more for our marriage than anything. They've shown us that no matter what, as long as we are honest with each other, things will be okay.
He's been especially wonderful during this last year. We started the year with another devastating miscarriage. I wasn't sure I could try again after so many losses, but Brian was there for me (picking me up off that ground like I said) reassuring me it would happen, that our family wasn't yet complete. On the heels of that we lost two great women, Brian's Grandma Billie and my Great Aunt Gerladine. 2011 wasn't shaping up to be a good year. But again, Brian was there, supporting me though he was in as much pain from the losses as I was.
Even when we got pregnant again in the spring and we knew it had "stuck" things were rocky. Mainly because for whatever reason this pregnancy kicked my ass. Not only was it hard on me physically, but emotionally too. I was horrible to live with - a wreck - and where many men may have given up and walked away, Brian stood by me. I lived with a constant, paralyzing fear that we would lose this baby (now our precious Harper). Knowing that it would pass (this not being my first bout with depression and anxiety) and continually cheerleading me so I wouldn't give up, Brian came through again, lifting me up, rubbing my back when I cried, telling me it would be okay. And he did it even though he had his own anxiety about the success of the pregnancy - his crazy beard that he didn't shave or trim from the time we found out we were pregnant with Harper to the morning she was born was his own crazy superstitious talisman.
And I won't lie - this first six, postpartum weeks have been hard. I've called him at work crying hysterically and even over the phone he has the ability to make me feel better. I'm still fighting against it everyday, but knowing I have a man like him by my side I know I will win.
14 years is a long time, but they are years I cherish knowing I have spent them with a man like Brian. Going forward I can only hope that we raise our kids to be as strong and kind and loving as their father is.
I love you Brian.
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