Friday, February 10, 2012


My husband is my best friend. He has been one of my very best friends since shortly after we met in 2001. I never dreamed, then, that I would marry him. But, God blessed me tremendously by giving us the love, choice, and commitment to enter into a life-long marriage. Yes, it will be life-long.

When we were dating, we began discussing the possibility of being married, as well as that of starting a family together. I was straightforward and honest, telling Jake that I just didn't know if I would be able to bear children. I really didn't know. I knew something was up with my reproductive system, and I thought it'd be nearly impossible. (Two years ago, I was diagnosed with PCOS, you can read about that in the "infertility" category if you'd like.) He stuck by me anyway, knowing that chance existed, and just telling me we'd cross that bridge when we got there.

We've been married for 5.5 years now. We have a 15 month-old son who is one of the lights in our world (I would say God, our marriage, and Spencer (and the coming baby) are the main three). We were married for 3.5 years or so before he was conceived, after we consulted a reproductive endocrinologist. I am pregnant (somewhere between 11-13 weeks (the baby is measuring almost a week ahead, but for now, they're not changing the due date) again, with our third miracle. We lost our second miracle at 8 weeks in September of last year.

Jacob is a fantastic provider. Yes, we go through our struggles financially, not always being on the same page with things and being disorganized occasionally, but he has taken the reigns to sort those things out. He is a hard-working man. He works crazy long days (13-16 hour days 4 days one week, 5 days another) in all weather conditions, even when he's sick sometimes. He is great at his job, and has won us trips across the country for being one of the top in sales. He's amazing. He does it to make our lives possible, really. I am guilty of whining at him that he works too much and doesn't spend enough time with me or with Spencer, in the past. I have tried so very hard to look at it from his perspective, in that he works to give us the means to survive. He works FOR us. And he's right. But, sometimes I'm emotional and somewhat selfish wishing he was home more. I feel like I have been better about that over the last year or so than I had ever in the past. Though, sometimes it's hard.

And he's excellent at keeping me from feeling too bad about it. Yup, we've fought about it, but we really both do understand where the other is coming from and we work hard to make it work in all aspects.

But not only does Jake work his job well, but he's an excellent father.


I always felt he would be a great father, but seeing him growing with Spencer in his father-role is phenomenal. It takes my breath away sometimes. I get goosebumps. I get tears. I just want to watch them from behind a two-way mirror so they can't see me, so that I can just take in the beauty of their relationship.

I'm Spencer's mother. He needs me. We have a close bond. I love him more than I love myself admittedly (whether that's good or bad is up for debate, I guess?). He cries when I leave him, though not for long, and he gets excited when I get back.

But, I feel like daddy is his favorite. And that makes my heart sing.

I love that Jake plays a little concert for Spencer during bath-time, and sometimes during bed-time, and sometimes after waking up in the morning, or after nap, or in the middle of the day randomly. I love that he can throw Spencer up in the air, catch him, and I am not afraid that our child will get hurt. I love that he took Spencer sledding a few weeks ago. I love that he reads to Spencer. I love that they play ball occasionally. Or go on walks. Or swimming.

I love that Spencer just loves to do everything and anything (well, mostly) with his dad.

Jake's father role melds beautifully into his supportive husband role. Really. Ever since Christmastime when I developed intense sciatic pains down both sides that literally kept me bed-ridden for almost a week, he has been "super-husband-dad" at night. Because it was so painful for me to move and I couldn't really get up on my own anyway, he just automatically took over night-time duties with Spencer. If he would cry, Jake would be out of bed to tend to him. And, for the most part, Jake still is. He doesn't complain about it, either. I think that maybe he continued to do it because now that I'm pregnant again, I am completely exhausted and I don't sleep well anyway, nor do I fall asleep again very well if I have to get up out of bed. And, I've been sick for a few weeks, too.

Or maybe, he does it because he just loves to see our son. I know that Spencer sleeps best if Jake is the one who gets up with him when he wakes (it's usually only once, if at all nowadays), and I think it's because then he knows that his daddy is home. I don't know.

I know, I am totally spoiled. And, I will admit, I take it for granted and I do not thank my husband enough for it.

He has ALWAYS helped change diapers. In fact, more often than not, if he is home, I don't have to change more than a few a day. He's never complained about having to change a poopy diaper either. In fact, he has always laughed or given commentary all the way through the process. He makes me smile.

Not only that, but even when I was nursing Spencer (way back when he was tiny), Jake would get up occasionally to help with feedings, so I could steal an extra half an hour of sleep and not have to get up every two hours. And then, when we switched to formula, he willingly worked out a night-time shift schedule with me, so we could take turns getting up with Spencer. I know dads who rarely, if ever, get up with their child in the night. Yes, like I said, I am spoiled. Or blessed, if I want to be positive about it.

Jake also makes sure whenever it's possible, that I get time for me. I give almost all of my time to Spencer, and when I'm not solely focused on Spencer, I'm trying to take care of the house, my work outside the home, the dog, and myself. So, Jake gives me time to relax, at home, or away, depending on my needs and his and Spencer's interests at the time. In fact, he is most often the one to suggest I get that personal time. It's another blessing.

He tells me I am amazing. Frequently. And, recently, he has started giving me detailed explanations and examples of why he thinks that is so. Those mean more than I can measure.

And... finally, the most recent and huge thing that Jake has given to me, to our children... and really, to our marriage, in a way...

is the opportunity that started at 3:30 or so this afternoon.

I am now a stay-at-home-mom. I don't know how long it will last, because, well, you just never know what curveballs life will throw at you. But, I do know that every minute, every hour, every day, every week... that I am able to focus on raising our children alone is an immeasurable blessing. It's largely (almost entirely, I feel) possible because of my husband. The role he's taking in managing our finances and providing income. The role he's taken on as protector and leader of our family, both financially, and spiritually. The fact that he is determined to make our lives the best that it can be.

Truthfully, the issue of being a SAHM was brought up by him first. Up until I was pregnant with Spencer, it was something I never really wished for, or dreamed that I would want (as I mentioned in this blog post a few weeks ago). And even then, I was terrified to wish for it too hard, because my puny little mind just never thought it was possible. But, a month ago, when he suggested it might be possible and perhaps we should try it, I was amazed. I was overwhelmed with the realization that it might actually happen.

And, it has.

Because my husband, Spencer's father, is who he is.

Thank you, Jacob, for all that you've done- for all of us.

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