Lately, I’ve been seeing numerous blog posts about all the hard times women go through to bear and birth children, and they almost suggest that our men should be putting us on a pedestal. These posts go on to summarize the physical, mental, and emotional toll these child bearing years take on us as women, as wives. Don’t get me wrong, I think women are real life superheroes, but I feel like these posts are a little insulting to the men who stand by their women holding their hands as they endure all these life changes.
If you ask me, I think my husband is a freaking Saint. I may be bias, but I know I threw a whole-lotta crazy at him throughout the years, and some days I can’t believe he still chose to do life with me. Once upon a time, after one too many cocktails, I screamed at him exorcist style in the middle of a public parking lot in a Peacock Costume, and he still chose put a ring on it. If that wasn’t a red flag to run the opposite direction, I don’t know what is, but boy am I thankful he stuck around.
We’re so quick to make sure our men know what WE go through before, during, and after childbirth that I feel like we forget that WE put THEM through those things just as much as we go through them.
I needed a Blueberry Waffle at 3:30am, guess what, bud? Sorry not sorry, you were asleep and have to work in the morning. Waffle House here we come because I’m carrying your unborn child and SHE wants a waffle. We could put that kid through college with the amount of money we spent on Blueberry Waffles in 9 months.
What about all those times he had me laughing into tears, and then those tears turned into a full damn ugly cry about God knows what. Not once did he call me crazy because I mean, hello! Coo Coo! Instead, he held me, let me cry, and said I had every right to be a blubbering idiot of whatever the heck it was I was crying about. I’d list the things I was crying about, but I’ve had two pregnancies, and multiple breakdowns, we’d be here all day. I can assure you it was usually over something like burnt toast. Not kidding, that one happened more than once.
Not only did he stand by my side when I was being insane, but he stood by my side when my world was crumbling. He held my hand through my experience with Gender Disappointment and Depression during pregnancy without an ounce of judgement. He let me say things like, “I didn’t want a boy!” knowing that, when the day came, that little boy would complete my heart. But, instead of pushing, he let me grieve how I needed.
He continues to stand by my side everyday when I crumble with guilt for ever uttering those words, and instead of saying, “I told you so!” He assures me that those things don’t make me a terrible Mother.
He sat for 3+ during labor with his fist lodged in my butt cheek to alleviate pain in my hip from a stuck baby. He held my legs propped up, with my goods flapping in the wind as we tried to get her to roll back face down before we could push. He always lovingly told me to breathe during contractions even though I’m fairly certain I told him he could F@$% off.
He held my hand not once, but twice, as he watched Doctors cut me open and quietly talked among themselves about how I was loosing too much blood. Even though he was scared out of his mind each time, he assured me everything was fine, and never let me know there was anything amiss.
He was the most gentle nurse that first bathroom experience after my cesareans. And when I apologized a million and one times for dumping gallons of blood out of my lady bits, he responded by thanking me for giving him our precious children.
He handled me with care each time I battled postpartum depression, even when the second time was worse than the first. He never told me to just snap out of it, he never judged the days I did nothing with my appearance or the house, and he always held me when I hit rock bottom. It was a hard time for me, but I can only imagine how hard it was for him to see someone he loves go through something like that.
He kept me going when I shut down after losing a pregnancy we didn’t even know we had. He let me be hurt and angry even though he was hurt and angry too.
You see, we as women go through so much, but the men who walk deep in those trenches with us, they’re the ones that deserve the pedestal. They’re the ones who keep us going when it seems like everything is falling apart, and they’re the ones who remind us that even though we think she’s gone, that girl they loved before kids is still there.
So this post is for you fellas. The ones who know your lady is 50 shades of cray, but you love her through all 50 shades. Thank you for being an amazing husband. Thank you for upholding for better or for worse.
And to my man, I love you big, and I’m thankful to be Married AF.
Jacket by Arenlace
They have many different versions for engaged and married ladies plus more! Check them out at Arenlace.com
I would also like to leave a special note to the women who do not have partners in life. Women who do all this without support are the real superheroes. You are some of the strongest women I know, and you definitely deserve to stand on that pedestal tall and proud!