In Sickness and in Health....

When I think of those words, I do not think of this time now, of anything I am giving to him, but instead I think of all the times that he has been there for me. I think of the worst times in our life and how I have always depended upon him, how he has always been there. I think of the two miscarriages before having H, the physical and emotional trauma, and how he was there. Right there giving to me, being there for me completely, grieving himself, but never letting it get in the way of his encompassing support of me. I think of the birth of H, how he was right there, the first time I saw her was in his arms. The look of complete love on his face. I think of finding out that she had to go to Davis, and that I had to remain in the hospital here. He thought nothing of having to pack up and follow his baby, knowing that he would have all of the responsibility himself down there. He just packed up and went. He would set his alarm for every time she needed to be fed and he would get up and rush over so he could be the one to do it. He would take her temperature and change her little diapers while she was there in the NICU. He knew all of the nurses, they all knew him. He threw himself into the process and made the best of it. He took care of me, he took care of his baby. When we had the third miscarriage before having E, it was by far the hardest and most physically traumatic. He was there with me through it all, giving to me, letting me grieve, and taking care of both H and I. He told me that we were enough for him. If we could not have more, it was OK, his plate and heart were full. When we decided to try one last time, we knew that it would be hard. It was unknown. Unknown to us, unknown to the doctors, but he never wavered. Every Monday of my pregnancy with E, I would go to the infusion center and I had a 7 hour infusion. He took H and planned adventures for them. They would go roller skating, or for walks in the park, geo caching or out for an ice cream. And when E finally came, there was no prouder dad. Again he was right there while they put me out. He has gotten to witness the birth of both of his daughters while I did not. Something special he shares with them. I think that only makes him prouder. When I think about the best and the worst days of my life, one thing is constant. Him. He has always been there, in sickness and in health.