Four Years

Today is my husband’s and my four-year wedding anniversary, which started with a treatment that required me (read: us) to arrive at the hospital by 6:45 a.m. for a brain-traumatizing procedure. (Private-message me for deets, if you’re interested. I will also use this procedure as an excuse for typos/poor writing/etc. etc., so I apologize in advance.)

Romantic.

If you’re a reader of my blog, but especially if you know me in “real” life, you’re aware that the last few months have been especially challenging so far as my medical “stuff” has been concerned. They’ve also been incredibly productive and comforting, and I can’t imagine having gone through them without the support of loved ones. Of all the family and friends who have helped in various ways—traveling across the continent (thank you, amazing Dad, thank you, amazing Mother-in-Law!), visiting me in the hospital, lending me virtual support, it’s undoubtedly my husband who’s been, and continues to be, the most constant, loving, and unwavering presence. When I write that I don’t know how I’d do it without him, I’m really not kidding.

So here’s to you, kid. Here’s to the life we’ve built together. Here’s to the manner in which you somehow manage to make me feel like I’m not a burden, even when I inarguably I am.

Here’s to four years. I have no idea how I found you, one summer day in Berlin, and eventually convinced you to move from NC to Ontario to be with me, but it’s the crowning achievement of my life thus far. When we met, and even on our wedding day, we never could have predicted what we would face. Somehow, as long as we face it together, we always seem to be ok. And that’s pretty darn amazing.