We moved in the fall of 2010 to our new town. It was very close to where I went to college, so I was somewhat familiar to the area. At least I knew where the major necessities were (food, gas, hospital, etc.). Unfortunately, my husband was much less familiar. And, we only had those few weeks in our home prior to my going back to work. Those weeks were spent unpacking boxes, purchasing necessities for the house (toilet paper is a MUST!), and getting our nearly 3 year old and 9 week old used to their new surroundings.
We had met a few neighbors, and they were great! What we didn’t realize was that, as the weather started to turn colder, everyone “hibernated” for the winter. And, because I spent much of the time with our newest little guy, I left my husband to fend for himself. At least back in our old home town, we had family to help us. Here, we didn’t know many people, I was busy working, and my husband was left at home with two little ones. While he said he was fine, I know this was a rough time for him.
Our little guy had a difficult time sleeping. He was up a couple times each night. Hindsight being 20/20, we should have just let him cry it out some nights, and he might have gotten over it. Unfortunately, that is not what we did. We rushed to him with every cry to console him, give him a pacifier, rock him, etc. We were at his beck and call. And, he knew it.
We were quite tired. Again, we stopped talking about the important things, and focused solely on being the best parents we possibly could be. The challenge is that – to be good parents – we needed to be a good couple. We weren’t thinking about that, we were just thinking about our boys. So, we started to drift apart.
When you don’t communicate, it is difficult to get things done. Each of us expected the other to read minds, know what the other was thinking / insinuating. And, when we were communicating, that was easy. We could practically finish each other’s sentences. But, for 6-7 months, we didn’t talk. We were just surviving.
I remember my husband’s parents came into town around Valentine’s Day 2011. Our oldest had just turned 3 and our little guy was 6 ½ months. They could tell we needed a break, so they watched the boys and we went to dinner. That was our first night alone in, well, I’m not sure how long.
At first, we didn’t quite know what to say. We talked a lot about the boys, then made some small talk, and then, silence. Finally, we started to open up about how we were feeling. We had been drifting apart. And, while we knew that we loved each other, we weren’t acting like we even liked each other.
The one good thing in all of this is, we both knew we were 100% faithful to each other. We have said and continue to say that, regardless of how mad we might get, we would never want to share our lives with anyone else. There is never a thought of that. We may not always like each other, but we do always love each other. And, no matter what, I would rather be on this roller coaster with him than with anyone else.
So, we finished dinner and, for the first time in months, were truly connecting with each other. Just after we ordered dessert, my husband says – What are your thoughts on trying to have another baby?
WHAT???
Are you serious? We haven’t been out in months, our lives are crazy right now, and this new little one doesn’t even sleep through the night yet. Are you serious? You want to try again?
Yes, he did.
I asked if we could take a few days to discuss it more. I was open to it; I just wanted to be sure we really wanted to do this. Plus, it took us so long to conceive the other two, if we wanted to try, we should start pretty soon as it would likely take us at least a year.
What a dinner! It was such a rough few months, but within a few short hours, we were back on track. We were focused on our marriage, our partnership, and our love. And, we knew for the sake of our family, we needed to spend some time focusing on us. The stronger we were as a couple, the stronger we would be as a family.
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