My dear husband.

12 09 2012

In some ways, we are a perfect match, because we’re so alike.

And in other ways, we are a perfect match, because we are so different, we can’t help but push each other’s buttons and drive us towards greater growth as people.  (Gosh, it sounds so mature and profound that way.)

In the real world, sometimes I make him want to tear out his hair by the roots.  As you can see, that “sometimes” is pretty often.


We met in a salsa dancing class he was teaching and got to be friends first.  I started bartering homemade meals for salsa lessons, and we moved forwards from there.  We dated two years before we got engaged and bought our house together, and it was another year before we got married (at Saint Louis, with the reception at home.)

I wish we had moved forwards on having babies sooner, while I was younger, and that we did not is entirely my fault.

Unfortunately, my husband has very strong feelings about kids (our genes only, no adoption or donor egg) and he’s not driven to have kids at all.  He would like to, but not at the cost of our financial solvency, future stability, or sanity.

I knew when we married that he was excellent at being logical and sensible.  He’s an engineer, after all, and approaches the world with a very sound, problem-solving focus.  I pride myself on being more logical than your average bear, too, so it’s a good fit.  Except when I am crazy sad, frustrated, anxious, despairing, and frantic.  Then– I wish he knew to gently take me in his arms, sit me down on his lap, pet my hair, and tell me that he loves me more than anything and that he wishes he could take away my pain.  This is not something he thinks of doing.  (I think because he fears it will encourage me.)  Instead, he is very much the strong-silent type.

Except when he’s not– and then he likes to tell me stuff like “And, if we don’t get pregnant, it will be okay.”

Like I said the other day– maybe it will be for you, but it won’t be okay for me.

Sometimes, I think I could tolerate a little insolvency, instability, insanity…. for a child.  Let’s hope we don’t have to go there.

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