I realize it has been a week since my last post. That is because I have been slammed by the most unbelievably awful cold/flu and this is the first day I've been able to sit upright for more than 10 minutes since the stupid germs first invaded my body. This week I learned how much my husband loves me. First, because he's been so helpful as I've been down. He has washed dishes, done laundry, served me meals in bed (including the random condiments I require). He has played with the kids, fed the animals, and made runs to the drugstore at 5 am...in addition to his day job.
Secondly- he has not only put up with, but has actively participated in every single, calculated, monitored moment of my ovulation. It has been almost 6 months since I miscarried and apparently the "old fashioned" way of making babies is no longer enough to get this woman pregnant. So, to add to all of Trenton's endearing qualities, he has also bravely entered dollar stores around the city in search of ovulation prediction kits and pregnancy tests on his way home from work. When this all started, he was too embarrassed to bring only the tests up to the checkout counter, so it became a game for me to look in the bag and see what else he threw in there to be less conspicuous. Sometimes it was a bunch of toothbrushes and garlic powder. Other times, maybe some hot sauce, or fabric spray, or a coloring book for the kids. And each time he'd enter the house saying, "Here you go Babe- I brought you some more things to pee on." But enough months have passed since this whole process started that he now proudly enters the store and heads straight toward the check-out (they keep the tests behind the counter to discourage frightened 16 year olds from stealing the pregnancy tests.) I wouldn't be surprised if he knows, not only the cashier's name, but that of her children and grandchildren, by now. I remember a time when I was almost judgemental of these women who feel the need to predict their ovulation. I used to think, "Why wouldn't they just 'take to the bed' every day to be sure their bases are covered?" And I am quickly learning that it's because trying to make a baby is exhausting- and heaven forbid, in a moment of pure exhaustion, you miss those crucial 24-36 hours! But that isn't my point to all of this. I am so thankful for my husband. I love that he is so loving and playful with our babies. I love that he shares in all the responsibilities of our life together- the kids, the house, the bills, church, my ovulation... I love that he finds the humor in any situation, and refuses to take life too seriously. I love that man!
So maybe that's the whole point to my, hopefully brief, infertility. I now fully appreciate the man who's making it all possible! He truly is my best friend. And since I'm already being so corny, I also have to say- I love this man so much more than the day I married him...and that's saying something, because I loved him desperately on our wedding day.