I want to write something wonderful for my husband. At the same time, I am utterly stumped. There he is, sitting there across the room. He's watching one of his favorite TV shows on the computer and minding the children so that I can get a little bit of time in here on the computer. It's just one of those ordinary Sunday afternoon kind of moments. And all I can think is "how did I get here?"
I look back on the past. I look at the fears that I was infertile. I look back at the fears that my relationship was going to just suddenly vanish on me. I look at all the other little things that made me question if moments like this were ever going to happen.
I sit here and I wonder, how on earth did I go from being so fearful to now peacefully content, living the life that I dreamed I would have? How did I get so lucky as to have my best friend as my spouse? How did we get so lucky as to have these two beautiful little boys? We're sitting here in our home, not in a panic and packing because we're going to be booted out due to the nonsense with the downstairs apartments.
I am profoundly grateful. I am also at a loss for anything romantic. That makes my love letter project a bit harder to do.