Today marks the 34th birthday of my big love AKA my husband! To me, birthdays are a big deal, or, at least they should be. MBL does not necessarily approach them with the same fervor that I do. Case in point? He spent my birthday moaning about having to go places with me (dinner, the store, etc...). He will even openly admit that he was a bit of a boob that day. I think he behaved badly because holidays/birthdays stress him out because of the pressure he feels to make a big deal out of them. Anyways, when I was thinking of what I could do to make MBL's birthday a big deal without spending a whole bunch of $$, I decided that it would be fun to make a bunch of treats for him to bring in to his coworkers. I asked him what treats he wanted and he was like a kid in a candy store when we went to pick the groceries up. It was adorable to see him get all kinds of excited over orange supreme cake mix and the prospect of cupcakes made from it. In addition to the cupcakes, I also decided to make buck.eyes and ore.o truff.les. With my tight schedule I knew that I had to pound them all out in the three hours I had between my internship and my monthly small group dinner. When I first started the baking extravaganza I was feeling overwhelmed and defeated...all I really wanted to do was lay down and take a nap. But then I started thinking about why I was putting all that time and effort into baked goods that I wouldn't even get to enjoy.
In order to fully comprehend my appreciation for my husband I need to give a little background on my romantic history. I didn't really date in high school as I was a total geek and thought grades and extra-curricular activities (like student council and french club) were more important than boys. Plus, my high school didn't have the greatest selection. I became less crazed about grades in college and, thus, was better able to date. I spent those years dating here and there, but it wasn't until my senior year that I had my first "serious" relationship. He was my first love and the biggest disaster. I think of that relationship now and just shudder. Blech.
After that ended, rather messily I might add, I felt completely out of place. All of my friends in town were either engaged or close to it. I spent most of my Friday and Saturday nights watching movies alone in my apartment. I was lonely and miserable. I decided to do something about it (after several months of self pity), so I joined an online dating site. I met some nice guys through it and went on several pleasant dates, but never really felt the "connection" with anyone. In June of 2008 I moved to a new apartment, by myself, and joined a new website. One of the first few emails I got was from a VERY handsome guy who seemed to have a lot in common with me. So, I emailed him back. After a month and a half we met in person and he was even more charming in person than he was through email. I fell and I fell hard, he absolutely swept me off my feet. By the end of 2008 we were married and we've been living happily ever after since then. Back to my original story, yesterday when I spent three hours standing in the kitchen baking I couldn't help but think about how flippin' lucky I feel to have my husband. He's more than everything I ever wanted in a spouse and I still wake up most mornings in absolute amazement over the good looking man sleeping next to me (heck, I even find myself laughing when he snores because oh my freakin goodness I have a handsome man in my bed and he is snoring!). The thing is, I don't know that I would appreciate my husband near as much if I hadn't had that one absolutely horrific relationship. As a matter of fact, I know I wouldn't. And MBL has said the same thing about his past relationships, that he knew I was the one because of how different (and easy)* everything was. We both appreciate and value each other because we have been in bad relationships with people who were not right for us and we know just how awful that can be.
And, of course, I have to bring this full circle and relate it back to infertility. On Monday night I got in bed and my feet felt rather throbby, so I took a gander at them and discovered they were twice their normal size. I pointed this out to MBL and he agreed that they were rather puffy and then he asked me why I was smiling at them. I had really been hoping to skip the whole swollen feet thing this pregnancy, and, truthfully, I expected it to bother me a whole lot more than it did. When I thought about why I felt so "pleased" over my fat feet, I realized it's because I spent a whole lot of money for my feet to be that ugly. And yesterday when the baby flipped in such a way that I literally almost peed my pants? I also couldn't help but smile/laugh. You see all these things that most people think of as annoyances of being pregnant, I see as absolute miracles. Much like I find my snoring husband to be absolutely endearing. I know that not everyone gets to meet and marry their soul mate and I know that there are women out there who would kill to have fat feet and a weak bladder. And because of this knowledge I will treasure the time I have with my husband. And when this little girl joins our family I will do my darndest to appreciate even the most stressful of situations (like getting up every 2 hours and functioning on no sleep)...because I'll know that I am beyond lucky to have that "inconvenience"** in my life.
*No, I'm not easy in that way...just less high maintenance and more open about my feelings.
**And, no, I do not think having a baby to be an inconvenience, but I know of plenty of parents who consider having to get up several times a night to be one.