Today we have been married for four years. In previous years (2008, 2009, and 2010) I wrote lengthy, detailed narratives and meditations on marriage and our wedding. In an effort to not repeat myself...well, I'll just try not to repeat myself. :)
This fourth year of marriage has been challenging. I'm not going to lie: infertility can be brutal on a marriage. Luckily, I wouldn't say it's been brutal on ours. I just said that I can easily see how it could be. While this fourth year hasn't brought us any success in our most salient goal (having a kid, duh)...I guess you could say that all this time in the trenches has accomplished some deeper stuff. There's something to be said about going through prolonged pain and less-than-ideal circumstances. It shows you what you're made of. It shows you what your partner is made of. It gives you (us) a feeling of us against the world. A sense that we're in this together, no matter what. And I guess that in some ways, it makes you recognize your strength as a couple. Hey. Anyone can breeze through the "better", "in health, and "richer" portions of life and pat themselves on the back for a marriage well done. But this? This stuff sucks. And if we can make it through this-- and we still actually LIKE each other?? We can do anything.
This past year, I've gotten to experience new depths of Matt's steadfastness. His commitment, his thoughtfulness, and his love for me are unwavering. I am a constant roller coaster of emotions, and he is able to rise up to meet whatever side of me is currently greeting him at the door. He loves me when I'm happy. He loves me when I'm curled up in a fetal position in the closet, bawling my eyes out. He drives me to town to look at paint samples for the nursery and crib bedding on the days I'm feeling hopeful. He sits with me and holds me in random stairwells and stifling hot cars when I'm too overwhelmed and sad to be around people at whatever event I'm currently at. He prays that God will bring us our baby. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes he prays for her by name... and if we ever decide on a boy name, he'll pray for him by name, too.
Did you know that for four years, he has made and packed my lunch almost every single (work) day? And we're not talking about slapping some peanut butter on bread. He caters my meals to my every passing whim (which are many), because I frequently change my mind about food and what kind I would like to eat. He wakes up with me every single morning to make my coffee and my lunch, even though he could easily sleep another hour and a half before he needed to get up. This isn't something I have to beg or blackmail him to do. He does this because he loves me. It's just who he is.
Sometimes it's easy for me to believe that God loves me. I see the example my dad set for me, both in how he loved me and in how he loves my mom. And I see how Matt lays down his own life for me every day. And I think that if mere humans can love me this well...then how much more does our God love us?