A Decade in Review

A Marriage Chronology:

Year One: Within two weeks of getting married, I fell headlong into depression... the "don't let her drive" kind of depression. Lasted a while. This is somewhat of a damper on those newlywed days.


Year Two: I was diagnosed with a melanoma the size of a quarter on my back. Emergency surgery. Patch of skin the size of a football taken out of my back. Melanoma caught .15 mm before it would have entered the blood stream. Moles continued to be removed, 10 or so a year, for the next 6 years.

Year Three: Big E. got the flu... and just never got better. Most nights, he would come home from work, curl up on the living room floor for an hour or so, trying not to moan too loudly. He would then attempt to eat and head to bed. Not the entertaining/event-attending/outdoorsy kind of deal I had prepared for. Rounds and rounds of doctors and bizarre medical tests ensued. Zero answers.

Year Four: I got pregnant. Internet bubble burst. Big E. lost his job, not once, not twice, but three times. He's still sick.

Year Five: Big E. got his 4th job in 8 months. Then Big E. got his appendix out. When the surgeon calls you in to review the path report, you know the news isn't good. And it wasn't. He had carcinoid tumors on his colon. A third of it had to come out as soon as possible.

His stay in the hospital for that surgery is another entire story, but let it suffice to say that I booked in every male relative and friend to stay with him round the clock after one particular "8th circle of hell" night that included pulling the emergency line. Twice.

I worked HIS job while he recovered... until my 20 week sonogram showed a potential tear in the placenta that put me on immediate bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy. Big E. limped in and out of work, still ill with flu-like symptoms as he recovered from major abdominal surgery.

Mermaid Princess was born, totally healthy. She screamed like an opera singer, with pressurized lungs. Unbelievably loud. And generally at 2 a.m.

Of course she's sleeping. It's broad daylight outside.

Year Six: Big E. was diagnosed as a celiac (hallelujah!). We got pregnant (okay, I was the official pregnant one, but Big E. had to handle all the hormones). Steady income. Sweet little townhouse. Six may be my new favorite number.

Year Seven: Flash arrived 16 months after Mermaid Princess, in April. Her hair finally grew in. We got better and better at the celiac thing. Another vintage year.


Year Eight: Pregnant again! So, with the new responsibility of three little lives, we made a series of sound decisions: We started a business. Bought a new house 2 hours from all parents and entire support network. Abandoned any pretense of income while we tried to get our business up and running.

JackJack arrived in December, two weeks before Mermaid Princess turned 3. We officially moved 4 days after he was born. I had an emergency appendectomy 3 days after that in a new town where we knew no one.


Year Nine: This is the most horrible and miraculous year of all. JackJack was so sick (see this post for details). I was barely making it through each day. Thank heavens Big E. was working from home... But the business news just got worse and worse at every turn.

But it was also this year that I understood for the first time that God wasn't a distant entity working out some complicated endgame in which I was a pawn, but that He is RIGHT HERE with me all the time. Eager to listen. And with stuff to tell me. That He never has and never will expect me to do it on my own, but rather that He loves nothing more than to be my hero and my all in all, my knight in shining armor... that He is very present, very real, and very personally active in everything to do with me. What a gift - and worth every moment of the price.

Year Ten: Business news didn't get better, but JackJack did. And through God's mercy and grace, I learned a little bit about having "joy in all circumstances." I also finally learned to be head over heels in love with being a wife and a mommy! Somewhere along the line, all the things I used to think of as "got-to's" suddenly became "get-to's"... even cooking. (I told you God has gotten really active in my life!)

The thing I most want to say: Honey, you have made these ten years a blast. That's a testament to your character and devotion as I read over the record of this decade. And I admit that I have never for one moment been bored.

I love it when you come home. I love to see you delight in the kids but never abandon your responsibility to discipline them. I love my children, but I am so thankful that you are the man I will spend my life with, for as much time as we've been granted. You make me laugh. You make me think. You honor my sacrifices. You thank me for my efforts. I KNOW you're not going anywhere. You know I'm not budging either.

It has been a delightful release this year to realize that life is not going to get easier, and we should stop waiting for a peaceful stretch. It's not a matter of life being stable or secure; it's a matter of how well-armed (and armored) we choose to be each and every day. And since I now know that life is a battle (but my team wins!), can I just say that there is no other warrior I would rather fight alongside than you?

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart! It's been a whirlwind decade and I wouldn't trade a year of it. No matter what the next decade brings, there's no one I'd rather face it with than you.