It was the night of June 23, 2001 and my husband (of 4 hours) and I had just pulled away from our wedding reception. We sat closely in the way back of the limo somewhat surprised by the silence that greeted us as we watched our familiar town pass by through the window, the smiles and waves of those closest to us still a fresh memory. I remember looking down at my gown all gathered in my lap and then over at this man sitting close beside me with a crooked smile, both satisfied and loving, on his face. And in that moment an overwhelming and unexpected feeling swept fast through me: as a couple in love, we were finally free. Free to love and be loved without boundaries or fear of rejection. The way it was meant to be.
Fast forward five years to last night…sitting with my husband on the floor of our twin toddler’s nursery, he holding one and I the other. It was nearly 1 am and he had just cleaned out a crib full of throw up and I, seven months pregnant, was trying to navigate through my cloudy thoughts to decide what to do with a sick little girl in the middle of the night who was sure to throw up again, if not multiple times. It doesn’t matter how much time or money you spend when picking out cute bumper pads and pretty cribs for your babies. They all smell the same covered in last nights dinner.
She and I ended up in the living room and daddy took twin number 2 to the guest room with him…but because I couldn’t sleep for worrying about my daughter (and for fear of getting sick myself, if I’m completely honest) I began to think about my husband and about the transition from wedding to life. This is real life, I thought to myself. But I also realized something sweet and comforting as I tossed and turned on the couch. There is no place I’d rather be than sharing life with this man and these children in this place.
What a funny choice love can be. Why would I choose throw up and sleeplessness? Because this is life, real life…far removed from the lacy dress gathered in my lap, but no less sweet. It is all wrapped up in perspective. I like the way Paul Colman puts it: Life is where you are. And I choose to love it.
That’s a great picture of life, in truth…because who doesn’t have moments when we have “throw up” all over us, and all we want is to be held and loved by someone we know and trust. I’m sure many more of these “precious” nights will be yours for the taking.
It’s funny how before I had children I always thought cleaning up after them would be horrible. And not that it’s fun but being able to help them when they’re sick and take care of them is so satisfying.
I know this is an older post but i so connected with what you are saying. I also am mother to twin daughters (5) and a son 15 mos. I have often been amazed at how my husband shows me and the kids his love. Showing up with flowers is not close to being as “real” as holding a sick kid in the middle of the night and/or helping me clean up after someone has been sick.
I am blessed.
marilyn
this was a tuesday unwrapped before there ever was tuesdays unwrapped.