C and I have now been married 23 months. Why does it matter, you ask?
Well…
We were dating 23 months before he popped the question.
We were engaged 23 months before we ran off to Enchantment of the Seas to get married.
We are now married 23 months… and nothing. Nope, we’re not taking that next step (yet) and having a baby.
Marriage is hard at times, but absolutely wonderful at others. It has been great for me to have someone to come home to every night; someone I know will hold me tight, tell me things will be OK, and someone who will listen to my stupid stories. I’m the worst storyteller ever, so this is a big feat.
I’m incredibly spoiled by C. It is so hard to not take for granted that on Fridays I’ll have a clean house to come home to. He truly takes care of me and looks out for my best interests, even though I don’t want to admit he’s right. I try to take on too much. It’s probably my biggest downfall. He’s right though, I have to scale back. Burnout is a nasty thing; been there, done that. I don’t wish to revisit that experience.
Just today he’s called me 3 times to check in on me (I had a small procedure this morning and have been a little uncomfortable all day). So sweet.
I’m so thankful.