I met my husband on my 18th birthday. It was also my first day of college at Penn State University. I honestly don’t remember how I felt in my first class, if I ate cake that night or if I danced at a party, but I do distinctly remember the moment I met my husband.
I was walking into our dormitory building as we passed each other. “Happy Birthday, Alicia,” greeted me as we crossed paths. First of all, I had never met him before. Facebook was a new thing at that time and everyone in our dormitory had friended each other prior to the start of classes. I later came to find that this was how he knew it was my birthday.
I remember his voice, his handsome smile and his kind eyes. I was immediately drawn to him. From that day on, he was on my mind. I had a few short-lived boyfriends in High School, but none that were very meaningful or that devastating when they ended. I certainly did not have any serious boyfriends, and I wasn’t really intending to find one at that time.
We first became friends. I could not wait to pass him during the day or hang out with him for a weekly viewing of The Hills, which my roommate and I hosted for about 20 of our dorm mates. He was fun to be around, and his presence made me so happy.
I remember passing him on the way to the commons area for lunch. He was walking back to our dormitory with only about 30 other guys. I remember saying Hi to him and only him. He was wearing an Eagles jersey, was exuding happiness and gave me loud, distinct and flirty “HEY!” back. I’m not sure if he remember it this way, but it felt like it was just us.
I don’t know if I believe in love at first site. Maybe my memories are simple. It is remarkable to me that after 17 years together, almost 10 years married, a puppy, countless life experiences and three beautiful children, the day we met and the moments as we fell for each other, are still simply as clear and memorable as ever.
Flash forward to present time. I have been thinking quite a bit about our relationship. We have such a strong connection and have created such a full and beautiful family. He is not only my partner and my love, he is my home.
We welcomed our third child just about 2 months ago, and life has changed drastically. Our littlest family member is beautiful, perfect and wonderful. Yet, with the pure joy and happiness of our growing family, we have also gained the expected stresses of new responsibilities and less sleep. With the focus on three littles and a puppy, the focus on our relationship together has lost some of the limelight.
As we are now coming out of some of that newborn fog and beginning to figure out some sort of new routine, we are shifting back to each other. We are repairing cracks in our foundation that are simply expected with the wear and tear of a 17 year bond. We are taking the time to learn how to disagree and communicate in ways that we each desire. We are strengthening our commitment to each other and our family.
There is so much I could say about my husband. He can still make me feel like it’s just us in a room of many. In fact, he gave me the same feeling this past weekend at a crowded trampoline park where we were celebrating a birthday. He strolled in a little later with our newborn as I was across the entrance with our daughter. We locked eyes, and I felt that same joy that I felt a mere 17 year prior. He offers a simple smile, and he has my heart all over again.
I felt compelled to write this Love Letter a few weeks ago when feelings of gratitude for our partnership came to light. I have, very honestly, spent quite a bit of time on social media lately. Between nursing our baby every few hours and trying to stay awake his first few weeks until now while holding my son while he naps, I have spent some time scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. I follow multiple “mom” influencers, including those focusing on postpartum. After some time, and several dozen posts, I came to find that many of these women felt compelled to write posts or memes about their partners lack of support. Some were serious, but most were comical.
It was striking to me that I felt like I could not relate. It’s also striking that this is the case for so many women, although that is a discussion for another time.
My husband does his share in our relationship. I could not write a meme about his lack of doing so. He gets up to feed the baby in the middle of the night. He changes diapers, sometimes exclusively cares for our other two children, cooks dinner, rocks the baby to sleep for naptime, and so on. He is not perfect, but he and I see our partnership in the same light. It is not always equal but we try to support each other as best as possible. Sometimes I give 80 while he gives 20, but sometimes, it is the reverse. He takes care of our family and with that, he takes care of me.
Our relationship is not perfect and it has been challenged quite a bit in the past. It is every-changing as we learn to grow together and from each other. The years have shown me that love does not always look like chocolates and roses and bubble baths (though those things are lovely). Love looks like communication, respect, understanding, sacrifice. Love looks an awful lot like a familiar, warm hello and a nice smile that once made me feel giddy inside, but now also feels like home.
Breath sounds and bubbles 