I don’t blog about marriage much, or at all. It’s one of those things that I told myself would be off limits to others. We’re still newlyweds, so things are good, but I know there will come a time when things are challenging. It’s in those times that I really plan to protect my marriage. As time goes on and whenever my sister gets into a serious relationship and ponders marriage, I will share things with her just so she can have some level of insight into what it takes (for us at least). Neither of us saw marriages growing up. The one we did see, our grandparents, was dysfunctional. My grandma wore the pants, skirts, and shorts in that relationship. They loved and adored each other, but we both knew and still know that wasn’t the kind of marriage we wanted. So, I do want to give a little insight when the time comes.
We were engaged when the doctor discovered that a fibroid that was left in after surgery had grown to a massive size. She didn’t feel qualified to take it out and preserve my fertility, so she suggested we find a fertility doctor who could. My then fiancé didn’t flinch at the news. In fact, he got right on the ball doing tons of research on the best fertility doctors in the Dallas area. His research led him to US News and World Report where he found two potential doctors. He went with me to interview them, helped me make my decision, and then he attended every single doctor’s appointment I had and was there when I went back for surgery and when I awoke from my drug induced slumber. From that time to current day, I haven’t gone to one doctor’s appointment alone.
In the beginning of our relationship, we discussed children. I told him that I wanted more, and he told me that he also wanted kids. My husband didn’t have any children at that time and I knew how much he wanted the fatherhood experience. And, I knew how absolutely awesome he would be at it. Naturally, I think, when I found out about the massive fibroid and my doctor’s reluctance to treat me, I was so afraid that maybe he had chosen the wrong woman to love and marry because what if I couldn’t give him children. I didn’t share that with him until we got our positive pregnancy result. He just looked at me and shook his head. He said he knew he had chosen the right woman and that he never lost faith. I love that man.
When we did IUI and it failed, that was another blow for me, but my husband remained strong. When we had the HSG test and they said my tube was blocked on the side from which I always ovulate, again I felt a bit defeated, but he hugged me tight and told me that knowing the problem meant we were that much closer to the solution.
He was great through the ivf process, though my hormones told me he could have been better, lol. And he is being great now that I’m suffering from some “real” symptoms. I say that to say that I am blessed to have him in my life. I am blessed that when I was wavering he was strong and reminded me who was in control – neither him nor I, but the Lord.
I remember when I would pray for my future husband, I would ask God that he was being prepared for me and that he would be able to deal with me. I asked that he be strong, much stronger than I was because I wanted to fall back from my “Independent black woman, hear me roar” perception that most single mothers are tagged with. I asked for someone with good character and outstanding judgment. That’s exactly who God sent. I just hope that each day I can be the woman my husband prayed for God to put in his path.