The Vows

It's hard to believe when Marc and I got married a little over a year ago, that we would already be testing those vows about a year later--through the good, the bad, and the ugly.  When we decided we wanted to try for a baby, there was no way either of our minds could have gone to the journey that would be our life a few months down the road.  We were signed up for all the classes, we were exercising, eating well, and generally creating a great living environment for our little baby girl.  But even best laid plans don't always work out and we have seen it over and over again in friends and family's life stories.  Olivia certainly had her own plans and though we were taken off guard, we could not be happier to have her in our lives.  When we got married, it was funny how easily you say the vows--yes I will love and support you through the good and bad, through sickness and in health, til death parts us.  But what happens when the bad and sickness happen much sooner than you think?

I can honestly say that I love the man I married more today (and lets be honest, in the last two months) than the day I said "I Do!"  While I was in the bed drugged up, Marc took excellent care to field calls, texts, deal with insurance, health questions, etc. all so I did not have to think about it.  Every night without fail, he was at the hospital to sleep on, what I can only imagine to be not very comfortable, hospital cot.  Though my mom and sister both offered him a night of reprieve, he diligently slept by me every night.  He supported me when I woke up at 2am crying for no good reason (yay hormones), took me for wheelchair rides through the hospital and grounds when I just needed fresh air, ate gross hospital cafeteria food, all the while getting up and working full days.  It is hard for an independent woman like myself to need help, but Marc was there often to offer the help without me asking, telling me it was okay to cry and picking up the slack in our family when I was not able to do it.  This is what marriage is about!

Marc was waking up nightly with me as I navigated the world of pumping until I figured it out.  He diligently cleans out the materials that I just leave in the sink after 3AM pumping sessions.  He snuggles me at night when I am shivering and brings me water, entertainment and whatever else I need as I spend my days (or at least what seems like all day long) pumping.  It was and is a hard road, pumping for a baby that for months (and still weeks to come) could not be fully breastfed.  But we both know and have been told over and over how great the breast milk is for preemies.  He so patiently feeds our little one her bottle.  He burps her even though he feels it is too aggressive for this tiny baby (both me and the nurses have had to tell him you have to give more than a tiny tap).

We have laughed together at our little baby making man fart noises and burping like she just downed 3 beers in a row.  We have cried over the tragedy that was our life for the first few weeks of Olivia's life--the health scares, the bad days, and just knowing that she should still be in my belly (EVEN TODAY--how crazy is that?)  The last couple of months have been nothing short of a miracle and have also been the most scary roller coaster ride that I have ever been on.  But I know for certainly, there is no one else in the world I would have wanted to do this with than you, Babe 💗  Thanks Marc for being a great husband and a wonderful father!  Olivia and I are both so lucky to have you!