Happy Father's Day to my wonderful husband! What a year we've had together! Was it really only a year ago we were sitting in the hospital (or he was sitting, I was lying...) trying to control these contractions with every single medication known. Praying for our unborn children, that they would survive this whole ordeal. Last year, we spent Father's Day in room 875, left for a very brief wheelchair ride into the courtyard right outside my window, watched some golf. I didn't want Andrew's first Father's day to be lacking the obligate footprint art, so I had a dear friend bring me Reagan's footprints which we turned into a flower. But, under it all, there was still sorrow and terror. Our little girl wasn't here to sit in his lap and giggle as he tickled her, to give him a hug. Our boys were beating the odds, but still fighting for their lives. I often wonder how much the fathers who have been through infertility and heartache feel on Father's Day. Does it sting like it did for me? Is there this sense of emptiness, of longing, of pain? It doesn't appear to be, but then, men don't talk about emotion like we do. I think, under it all, the emotions are there. Just maybe not bursting forth in fits of outrage and despair (not that I would ever do that...)
This year, there was more joy. There is still an underlying pain, but we were able to celebrate with our children for the first time. We celebrated yesterday and had a wonderful morning, complete with breakfast in bed and homemade gifts. I'm not sure who enjoyed them more, Andrew who received them, or me as I got to make them. Thank goodness for pinterest! And each year it will only get more fun as Warren and Dean are able to participate more and more.
My husband is an amazing man. I don't tell him nearly often enough, but he is a rock for our family. He works hard so I can stay home with our boys, comes home to a frumpy wife covered in drool/spit up/baby food who hasn't showered all day (or maybe even yesterday), and still loves me. He takes my frantic phone calls during the day as he's between meetings to calm me down when the boys won't eat, sleep, or stop screaming. He continues to attend and serve at church, though we know few people still there and though his family isn't with him. And each day, when he comes home, he makes my boys the happiest little boys in the whole world, as their faces light up with huge smiles and they head straight for him. I couldn't ask for anything better. No, our journey hasn't been easy. And staying home isn't what I thought it would be (though nothing ever is). But we are blessed beyond words as a family that Andrew is my husband and a father to Reagan, Warren, and Dean.
Happy Father's Day! We love you so much!