Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Lucky in love

So apparently pregnancy and blogging go hand in hand. I don't think I've written this much in quite a while. And still, I haven't written much, really :-)

Today I wish to sing my husband's praises. I figure I will do so now, since I have approximately 4 months to go before I have to give birth and never have another good night's rest again in my life and it's all his fault...

So, basically this is about two things he has done recently, aside from the usual being supportive and working his butt off to support us financially and his usual awesomeness.

First, early last week he was telling me about a video he had watched about women discussing the things nobody had warned them about regarding pregnancy. Now, aside from the fact that he watched a video about women's experiences of pregnancy and then told me all about it, he had given very serious thought to what the women had to say. He had also been listening to me babble on about every article, blog, open letter, column and academic paper I have read about pregnancy and parenting, since he could compare the comments in the video to things I had said. 
I think mostly, we as wives assume that our husbands pretend to listen or phase out. I live on that assumption. I'm fine with it, since mostly I chatter in order to reinforce what I have learned or to solve a problem for myself, he just needs to make it look like I'm not talking to myself. (As a disclaimer, when I really need him to listen, I always have his complete and undivided attention). So, to find out that he had been listening quite intently and actually retaining the information I threw his way, was pretty great in and of itself. BUT, here's my absolute favourite part:
I asked him what he had learned from watching the video. He turned to me, looked me in the eye and said: "I learned that you are a pretty amazing mother." First-time-mother-to-be's mind blown

Secondly, this past Saturday we went to our local dairy factory store. While we were standing in the queue, I stood up on my toes and gave him a quick, but loving peck. Being rather focused on us at the time, I only realised after doing it that I had done so just as a teenager was coming towards us, looking right at us. So I mumbled an apology to myself along the lines of "Sorry, kiddo, but you'll get over it". My husband merely hugged me close and said, "No, she'll figure out that after you have been with someone for eight years and gone through some pretty rough things together, you hope they still want to randomly kiss you in public". I smiled and commented on the fact that we're pretty lucky that way. At this he turned and informed me that he had realised "again recently" how fortunate he is to have me in his life.
I tend to think he could have done much better, but to know that he considers himself lucky and that he thinks I'm great, is a wonderful gift, every time.

And another disclaimer: Relationships are work, marriages are a lot of work. It's not always moonlight and roses and romance and cuteness. Most of life together is exactly that: LIFE together. That means he doesn't replace the toilet paper and I leave my shoes everywhere. It means dishes and bills and laundry and money worries and work stress and sleepless nights and colds and broken valuables and disagreements. But with the right person, as with the right job, work really doesn't feel like work. When you talk and you handle the little issues as they crop up and you really deal with what the issue ACTUALLY is, instead of arguing about the fact the cats aren't fed when you're worried about money, that makes a world of difference. No secrets aside from birthday/Christmas/surprise gifts, no lies. When you can manage all that, even shopping for cheddar cheese and strawberry milk can remind you how very much you love the person at your side.


Friday, May 22, 2015

Things you missed

There are so many things you should have seen and experienced. And for so many reasons, you missed them. So here they are (not that you can read any more or ever even knew that I had a blog, but hey-ho).

You never saw me go to university and put all those things you used to teach me in the veld to use as foundation for my studies.
You never got to see me work out that my original major choice didn't work for me, exactly or see me throw myself into Biology, because I loved it.
You never got to stand by me when I realised I wouldn't be able to complete my course due to financial constraints and would have to find a full-time job and you never got to see the disappointment on lecturers faces when they found out later that I'd given up my studies for survival, because I'd actually made an impression. And you'll never see me graduate next year.

You never saw me find a job and leave home and strike out on my own. I took to it quite well and because you raised a curious and practical daughter, I didn't stop learning and adapting. And you never saw me leave that job for a better one and learn new skills.

You didn't see me build a home, my way. You never met my first pet, who made it a home and gave me solace when things didn't go the way I had hoped.

You never got to see me change from an independent, confident teenager to a timid, cowed young woman as the result of a bad relationship. And you never got to see me pull myself together and fight back and reclaim my life. You never got to see me walk away from what was bad for me. And you never got to see me grow into a strong, wilful, independent woman who is a full partner to a good man.

You never saw me dance. And I was good, very good. And you really should have seen me. You never got to see me fight to get to the point where I could say that and you never saw me blossom as a result.

You never got to see my engagement ring or walk me down the aisle or see me smile at the man who chose to build a life with me. Worse, you never got to know him. And that is a terrible loss for you.

You never got to meet my second cat or my first dog. You never got to see my family grow from just me to a husband and wife, two cats and a dog. You never got to see me do things right. You never got to see me build a home with a family and values and a solid foundation. You never got to see me smile sincerely as an adult and you never got to see me laugh at all, sincerely or not.

You never got to hear me say I'm pregnant for the first time. And you never got to comfort me a month later when my entire world collapsed in the space of 30 seconds.And you never got to see my tentative joy at the second positive pregnancy test. You never got to see my baby's heartbeat on a sonar photo or try to figure out what all the various statistics meant. You never got a call telling you that she's a girl and doing well or photo updates in your inbox. You'll never get to hold your grandchild or know her name. You'll never show her why it's called Rooikrans or explain to her how her eyes work or rattle off Latin names for everything as you walk together.

Worst of all, you never got to make things right. We both missed that. But I learned from you and our little girl will never walk alone. The man you never got to meet is the type of man I wish you were, or that I wish you had stayed and he is becoming the father you should have remained.
And I wish you were here to see it.