I Do.

To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

These are the words that Craig and I spoke to each other three and a half years ago in front of family and friends, prompted by the husband of my best friend.  I have no problem admitting that at the time, these vows were just words - the things I had to say in order to sign my marriage license.  It wasn't that I didn't take them seriously, it's that I had the naivete and general blind confidence of a blushing bride and almost newlywed.  I walked down that aisle and said those vows with an air of "no big deal...we GOT this."  

I'm not sure what I thought marriage was going to be....an extension of the fairytale we lived in the months of dating that led up to our wedding?

But here I am.

It's three and a half years later and I'm trying to wrap my brain around that one little sentence we recited to each other on the day of our gorgeous outdoor wedding on a sunny day in March of 2010.

We've done the sickness and health bit.  I had an appendectomy, a c-section and a debilitating bout with Postpartum Depression.  Craig has had multiple knee scopes, a shoulder surgery and his gall bladder removed.  We have figured out how to nurse each other back to health pretty easy.

Then there is the better, worse, richer and poorer part.

That's where we are at right now.

I don't generally write about our marriage very much because, quite frankly...there's not a whole bunch to talk about.  We are generally agreeable with each other.  There aren't any major disagreements or outbursts.  We approach life as a team and rarely do we bicker or fight.

And we're definitely not bickering or fighting right now even though by all accounts, we certainly should be.

But we do have our backs against the wall.  We are the epitome of the old cliche, "between a rock and a hard place."  Tough decisions have been made and although it was the right choice...it was a difficult one.

One that affected my husband far more than it did me.

And that's where I'm learning about "for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer" part of marriage.  This is where I'm learning about my realm of control - I can't fight his battles for him, nor is it my job to do so.  But I can be supportive and appreciative.  I can listen when he needs to vent and I can give advice when asked.  I can remind him of the reasons I love him - his loyalty, generosity, sense of humor and dedication.

And of course, those sparkly blue eyes and gorgeous blond curls.

As with everything, this is simply a season in life and it too shall pass.  We will hold steadfastly to each other through this storm and then someday when the seas are calm, we will look back and understand that the storm was instrumental in creating a solid marriage.

Fears

Although Natalie's ear infection seems to have gotten better (she's at least sleeping through the night again) she has developed a rattling cough and super runny nose.  It could be the congestion from this ear infection breaking up or it could be due to the quick change in weather (80s last week, 60s this week) but whatever the reason..........she's a little miserable.  A little whiny.  A little more prone to temper tantrums over the tiniest things.  She's not running a fever so technically, by the standards of health my mother held while I was growing up, Natalie is fine to go to day-care with Ms. Rebecca.

But I'm not going to lie or mince words here........

This is where being a working mom (and coach) really sucks.

This is where I sit and wonder why on Earth I am working such long hours.

And for what?

The kids?  Perhaps.  They are lovable little buggers at times.

The paycheck?  Possibly.  We couldn't live our life without it.

The fulfillment?  Most of the time.  I enjoy what I do and I know that I'm good at it.

Volleyball season was hard.  I felt like I was missing out on a lot of her life.  And now that we've switched over and Daddy is working more hours I thought that this would be the perfect time to reestablish the Momma-Natalie relationship and have all that fun bonding time that I missed during the season.

Nope.

First person she asks for in the mornings when I get her out of bed is "Dada."  When we get home from school at 5:00 she is itching for Dada to come home.  If she is upset the only person that can comfort her is Dada.

I feel like a failure.  I feel like all the Attachment Parenting propaganda was true - since I didn't co-sleep, baby wear, quit my job and stay home, or breastfeed long enough I failed to establish a secure relationship with my daughter.

There.  I said it.  That's my greatest fear.

Judge away.

My fear is that I've sabotaged my relationship with my daughter forever because of the Postpartum Depression I suffered in the very beginning.  And then I think....maybe if I parented her "right" (whatever THAT is) from the start maybe I wouldn't have had PPD at all.

And then I realize that I'm falling every so quickly down the rabbit hole.

This is what bothers me about "parenting experts" and all the books and theories that are out there about the "right" or "best" way to raise a child.  When you propagate that THIS way is the BEST or ONLY way to successfully parent a child...........if that plan doesn't work for your family or child, then what happens next?  Are the parents and children doomed to failure?  Are all hopes of the children going to college dashed?  Will there be no fun family reunions over Thanksgiving and Christmas?  Should we call the local jail and get the orange jumpsuit ready?

I guess I could psycho-analyze myself and say that all this anxiety stems from me wanting desperately to do things RIGHT and follow the rules so that everything goes according to plan.

And I feel this more so with Natalie than with any other thing in my life.  When I say that she is my greatest accomplishment, I don't mean it in a creepy living-through-my-child or my-life-revolves-around-my-daughter kind of way.  I mean that I fully understand the immense importance that God has placed upon me in raising my daughter.

This is serious stuff.

This is a little girl's life and future that for right now........is held in my hands.

Do I respond with grace and compassion or anger and frustration..........

Do I hold fast to the expectations and boundaries that I feel are appropriate for our family or do I give in to the exhaustion that goes along with dealing with a temperamental toddler and just let her do as she pleases.............

I feel as if everything I do (or don't do) directly affects her mental and physical well-being and that it's my job to live in a manner that will set her up for success later in life.

For example, Craig and I were eating dinner the other night with Natalie after a high school basketball game.  It was late, she was not so hungry but a little wound up and definitely sleepy.  I was just anxious in general.  Part of it was having been around his family at the game, another part was the late evening and Natalie being squirmy and some of it was just me being me.

Craig handed Natalie his iPhone to keep her occupied during the last few minutes of dinner so that we could eat our dessert and then pay the server.

My stomach ached and my brain frizzed out on me.

No, no, no, no, NO.  This is against the rules.  The rules say that our toddler does not play with electronic gadgets such as iPhones to keep her occupied.

I was practically twitching.

Because in my mind, it wasn't just Craig getting through the last few minutes of an already frustrating dinner with a toddler.  To me, we had just shown her that obeying the rules and behaving appropriately isn't important and that if she behaves badly during dinner, Daddy will reward her with getting to play with his phone.

And it's all downhill from there.

See how quickly things can escalate in my head?

I know I'm irrational.  I know that I blow things out of proportion.  And I most certainly know that when I am tired (like I have been all week) my brain begins to play tricks on me which can result in the ramblings you just read.

But be assured that I'm okay.  I'm just really ready for a week long break.

No Light

First let me give a quick disclaimer before you read this post.

I AM OKAY.  CRAIG IS OKAY. 

WE ARE OKAY.

I've been sitting here working through my Bible Study homework for the week while listening to Florence and the Machine through my iTunes and there is one particular song with some very specific lyrics that have stopped me from being able to move on with my homework.

I had to write this image out of my head so that I can proceed.  This post isn't about what happened yesterday or last week - it's just a collection of conversations that Craig and I have had over the past year since Natalie was born, particularly when I was in a tough spot with the PPD last summer.

Okay.  Here we go.

"No Light, No Light"

Florence + the Machine

Off the Ceremonials album

Selected lyrics:

I was disappearing in plain sight
Heaven help me
I need to make it right
You want a revelation
You want to get right
But it's a conversation
I just can't have tonight

You want a revelation
Some kind of resolution
You are the revelation

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew daylight could be so violent
A revelation in the light of day

You can't choose what stays and what fades away
And I'd do anything to make you stay

No light, no light
No light

Tell me what you want me to say
But would you leave me,
If I told you what I've done

And would you leave me
If I told you what I've become
'Cause it's so easy,
To sing it to a crowd
But it's so hard, my love
To say it to you, all alone

I just remember so many nights Craig and I had this very conversation.  He desperately wanted to know what was going through my brain and how he could help get it out and make it better.  But I was locked up.  I couldn't physically verbalize what was going on because I couldn't make sense of it in my own head.  And then there were the intrusive thoughts and visions that flitted their way into my consciousness.  No.  He could never know those things.  I was always so scared to say anything because I knew I would cry.  And if I started crying, there was a good chance that I would never, ever stop.  So I shut down and I got angry because for whatever reason, that was the only emotion that I could process.  The only one that felt safe.  If I lashed out my anger at everyone else then they wouldn't want to be near me and then they wouldn't figure out that I was a complete waste.  I didn't want to be near me.  I felt toxic - like I was polluting everything good and pure in my life, most of all my child and my husband.

It was an ugly place to live.

No.  Live isn't the right word.

It was an ugly place to exist.

We didn't LIVE during this time.  We were existing.  We were waking up in the morning, functioning through the day and going to bed at night.

That part in the song about leaving me if I told him what I'd done and what I'd become.  That was my biggest fear.  I knew I wasn't right, I knew that I wasn't giving him the life that he had signed up for.  I felt defective.  I felt that he deserved a proper wife and mother of his child.  I wanted him to be happy and I wasn't able to provide him any sort of happiness for a very long time.

There was a moment when we were giving Natalie a bath one night.  He was getting her out of the tub to dry her off and I ran into her bedroom for a nighttime diaper and her pajamas.  As I was walking through our bedroom to go back into the bedroom  I paused by the dresser, just out of sight of Craig and Natalie sitting on the floor by the tub.  I listened.  They were jabbering together.  They were happy.  And I wasn't there.  My breath caught in my throat and my heart raced.

They could live without me.  This is what it would be like if I wasn't here.  Happy.  Peaceful.  It would be better this way.

My thoughts went down the rabbit hole.  The two of them selling the house, living in a little condo with the pups.  Craig trying to figure out how to put her hair into a ponytail for her first basketball game.  Helping her pick out her prom dress, one that would make her look gorgeous.  Walking her down the aisle, whispering in her ear that he loved her.

And in none of these scenes was I present.  I wasn't dead, I just wasn't present.  Runaway maybe?

I was stuck in a place where I couldn't imagine climbing out of my dark hole and enjoying life with my family.  But despite the tears in my eyes and the rapid beating of my heart, I swallowed my anxiety and walked into the bathroom to rejoin my family.  I couldn't let him know what I had scene, what I had pictured.

But the whole year, I sorely underestimated him.  I also exhausted him, frustrated him, at times berated him, forced all my anger on him and pushed him away.

Oh my.  That was a tough thing to write.

But he stayed.  He put in the work to keep the home running and Natalie out of the way of my angry tornado.  He listened when I cried and forced me to get out of the house with my friends and have some fun.  He was patient, he was forgiving.......and forgiving........and forgiving.

He forgave me as the Lord forgives.  Instantaneously, without an apology and without expectation of receiving anything as compensation.  He saw through the anger I was spewing and looked at my heart and how broken I was.  He knows what to look for.  He's been broken too.

I am so thankful the Lord gave us one another to help with putting the pieces of each other back together.