My Wonderful Husband
Well, here I sit on Saturday night, and I have not written a blog post today. I have been writing a post a day for months. I haven’t missed a day. I am on call this weekend and I have already delivered three babies. I just came back home from doing a circumcision and a c-section. It is after seven o’clock. I have no blog post.
I informed my husband that I have no blog post. My husband said, “You always write about what a bad husband I am. Why don’t you write a blog post about what an awesome husband I am?”
I said, “I write great things about you too. You just don’t notice them. But that’s a great idea. Today I’m going to write a post about how awesome you are.” So here is how awesome my husband is:
When I first met my husband, I was having a lot of problems. He was one of the few people in my life who actually noticed that I was in trouble and he tried to help me out. In fact, when my personal problems threatened to eat me alive, he put his foot down and asked me to choose between my bad habits and him. He loved me. I picked him.
He noticed that I was miserable in my current job. So much so that when I broke a molar from grinding my teeth in my sleep, I was elated because I could spend the day in the dentist’s chair having a crown made and not have to go to work. He felt this indicated a problem. He helped me find a new job, one closer to my parents because we were planning on getting married and having a family.
He defended me against my mother when she decided that she couldn’t stand him. He actually stood up to her and told her how much she was hurting me, trying to sabotage the relationship while we were planning a wedding. She actually listened to him. He’s a problem solver.
We got married and I settled into my new job. He had made a sacrifice by leaving Atlanta, where he had been very happy and had lots of work. He is an independent contractor, so he has lots of work everywhere. And Atlanta was very convenient for him. He gave that up.
A year later, we decided to get pregnant. He had a surgery to make sure he was good and fertile. I was already pregnant when he had the surgery. We just didn’t know it. He put up with my crazy hormonal pregnant crap for ten months. Actually I was pretty good. I just had this weird habit of bursting into tears on Sunday nights when he was about to leave for Atlanta the next day. I was convinced his plane was going to crash and he would never see his baby.
He was right there in the c-section room with me when we had our baby. And after that awful experience, he held my wrists for forty-five minutes to stop the shaking in my body that hurt my new incision so much. And when our baby had horrible colic, he walked the floor with her for hours. He jiggled her to sleep in his lap almost every night. He carried her around in a little sling while he worked. He took over when I was so dazed with postpartum depression and colic and sleep deprivation that I could hardly see straight. He took care of her at home while I went back to work.
He tried working from home with a baby and a babysitter for six months. He finally realized he wasn’t getting any work done, and we had to put her in daycare. But he tried for half a year. We went through four or five daycares before we found one where she could stay; where we felt comfortable with her staying.
Over the years, he has done the lion’s share of the work. My only contribution has been to work long hours as an Ob/Gyn. But to be honest, I just don’t get that much done when I am home. He hired us a housekeeper, who keeps the place picked up. He waters the houseplants and sprays the orchids. He runs the vacuum, because dust bothers him. He does laundry and arranges to get the lawn mowed and does all the yard work, keeping the roses trimmed back and the beds edged and the lilies cut and everything watered. When the house is falling down around our ears, he does the research for the contractors and supervises them and makes sure the work gets done. He works his butt off at his job, sometimes working from home and sometimes travelling. He has done much more than his fair share of the work for years and he rarely complains about it. He keeps on me to do the little things that he has me do around the house, and is more than patient when I don’t get them done.
He does more than his fair share of parenting. He reads to our daughter almost every night, helps with her bath or her shower, gets her up and gets her dressed and takes her to the bus most days so I can sleep in. He plays with her and practices softball and plays chess and tickles her and reads graphic novels to her and goes to all her plays and school lunches, because I can’t go. He’s an awesome father and my daughter is a daddy’s girl who loves him so very much.
He spoils me. He tucks me in at night. He cooks for us. He turns on the fire for me. He brings me blankets when I’m cold. He has allowed much more spending on my part than he would like to see. He is understanding when I am tired coming home from work.
Most recently, he is allowing me to work part time. My job has been wearing me down so much over the past ten or fifteen years, and it’s making me old and depressed and he notices that. He has just sold his airplane that he loves because it will be too expensive to keep once I am only working part time. He has helped me get a job as a locum tenens (travel doctor) and I will work two weeks and be off two weeks. That way I can be more of a wife and mother. Hopefully I will do more around the house, cleaning and organizing. This way he will be able to travel for work in the weeks that I am home. I pray it will work out for the best for both of us. He deserves a happier, more giving, more present wife. I hope I will be able to do that for him. I WILL do that for him.