A Love Letter to My Husband on Valentine’s Day
From the beginning, we were destined to be. Of all the “Females, Online, in Tulsa” on Yahoo Messenger that night, you settled on my name to instant message. What a lucky night for me. Had I known where that conversation was taking us, I might have saved and printed it out so we could show our grandchildren – me teasing you about being a single guy with a cat and at the same time being so impressed that you had not one real job but TWO, including being an adjunct college professor.
I didn’t know what to expect when you came to pick me up for dinner the next evening. I had been dating around for a while, gotten out of what I had hoped would be a more serious relationship recently and was not expecting you to be, well, you. Our first date set the course for our relationship – Mexican dinner at Senor Tequila’s, a shopping trip and a movie. We don’t veer off that course for fun much, do we?
Our romance wasn’t whirlwind, per se, but I was definitely swept off of my feet. It was the first time I had felt really taken care of by a man and trusted that you weren’t taking off, finding someone better or just getting tired of me and walking off. I never had to worry that an argument would be “the” argument that was the end of us – because we were stronger than that. You had grand ideas for our future and weren’t afraid to take action to make them reality. I silently thought we were insane for purchasing our first home before we were married but I look back and see that you had confidence in us, that there was nothing that was going to separate us. You’re right.
It wasn’t long after we were married, 9 months or so, that we found out Natalie was coming. I will never forget the look on your face when I handed you the pregnancy test and instructions in disbelief and made you read it. You were so serious and matter of fact. I was losing it, and there you were like, “Huh. Well, look at that.” I was almost afraid you would be panicking inside, but it was shortly after we found out that you bought The Baby Owner’s Manual, and I knew everything was alright. When you started arguing breastfeeding statistics and room temperature needs to prevent SIDS, I was blown away – again. You knew we could do this – we could be parents. Successfully, even.
When things started going downhill in the pregnancy, and I was scared for our baby’s life, you were scared for both of our lives. I had no idea the impact my own health was having on you until things calmed down and everything was okay. I’ve never seen you express so much emotion and be so vulnerable as those days after her birth. You jumped right into fatherhood feet first and did things I would never have expected. Not just change diapers, but pick out preemie clothes, find hats for her tiny head, put that sock back on her right foot a million times, encourage her to take those last few mL’s of milk so that we could bring her home.
After all that we had gone through to have Natalie, I was surprised that you were ready to try again just 1 year later. Luckily, we didn’t have to try too hard and were expecting Logan the first month. You supported and reassured me as we approached that 32-34 week mark as I grew anxious waiting for what I felt was the inevitable preeclampsia and celebrated with me when we hit 39 weeks and made our family complete with Logan’s birth. You reminded me how amazing a daddy you are when you would hold and try to soothe Logan through his colic, doing anything we could to make him comfortable, even when that meant reminding me that not everything is in my control.
Through the years we’ve spent doing this parenting thing, trying to maintain our sense of self and improve upon our already outstanding marriage (in my not-so-humble opinion), you have never failed me. You have worked diligently and with passion to make our lives better each day, and for that I cannot express in an email, a blog post or with any words at all what it means to me. You are the man every woman should have for a husband – and I am utterly blessed that you are MY Valentine.