My husband is so spoiled. He works until midnight most Saturday nights (that’s not why he is spoiled, that part sucks). He usually comes home starving and I try to have something good for him to eat. Granted a lot of nights the best I can muster is some mac and cheese – always homemade at least – no blue boxes for me. But then there are some nights where I try to have something a little more “special.” Last weekend involved homemade cookies and tonight there is a whole chicken “roasting” in the Crock-Pot and homemade noodles cooking on the stove.
Our house smells amazing right now by the way.
Truth is I feel like there isn’t enough I can do to spoil my husband these days.
He has always been so amazing to me, and lately even more so. It just seems like he is always having to console me, holding me while I cry over pretty much everything. I keep telling him that it’s okay for him to cry too. It’s okay for him to be the one that needs to be held from time-to-time. Men grieve differently, I know that. I see this with Patrick. Where I want to talk through every detail, listening to the music that I know will bring tears, and often just cry it out, he internalizes it more. I know that it’s all normal. It’s all natural. No two people handle grief in the same way. But there are those times when I look at my sweet husband and I see that look he has in his eyes when a certain commercial comes across the screen and it breaks my heart.
During our pregnancy there were times where I think he was even more excited about having a little baby around than I was, and I was ecstatic. Now it breaks my heart to see the pain in his beautiful blue eyes. Seeing him holding Joshua that Friday morning was the most beautiful and most heart-wrenching thing I have ever seen. The amount of love that I saw as he gently held him and the pain across his face as he cried, I will never forget either one. Patrick has all of this love to give to a child and no child here on earth to give it to. It breaks my heart. He was going to be such a good daddy. He would often just sit with his hand or head rested on my belly. We would laugh when Josh would kick him in the face. I still remember the first time Patrick felt him move. The look on his face was pure joy. He was such a good daddy.
He was so proud the night Josh was born. He was so scared when he arrived at the hospital as they shoved a gown, shoe covers, and a mask into his hands. It all happened so quickly. We weren’t ready. We weren’t mentally prepared for him to arrive so soon. After Josh was born, Patrick went with him to the NICU while I went back to my room to “recover.” We had talked about this. It was always one of those just in case kind of talks. You know the kind you have thinking that it will never be necessary, but just in case. The plan was that if for some reason we couldn’t do skin-to-skin or that the baby needed to go to the NICU, Patrick would go with him so that he wouldn’t be alone. When Patrick came back into my room the look of love and relief washed over him. He was so relieved that Josh was doing good. We were all so relieved that Josh was doing good. Patrick quickly pulled out his phone and showed me the photos of our little boy, our son, holding tightly to his daddy’s finger. He was beautiful. Those photos are beautiful. Patrick was just so proud of his boy. I hate that God allowed Josh to be taken from us.
Everyone says that Josh is in a better place. He is safe in Heaven where he will never know pain or hurt or disappointment or grief or loss or heartbreaks or anything else this awful world has to offer. There are moments when that is able to bring some comfort, but most of the time it still just hurts. I know we would have been good parents. We would have done our best to protect him from some of those pains of life and we would have been there to comfort him when he did get hurt. Josh has a mom and dad that love him more than anything and would give anything to be able to have him here with us.
I’m not really sure where I’m going any of this other than to say that I love my sweet husband more than anything else on this earth. He is an amazing gift from God, and I am so blessed to have him in my life. I’m just so sorry that he will not get to experience being Josh’s dad here on this earth, because I know he would have been amazing at it. He is the most amazing, loving, kind-hearted, sweet, passionate man I have ever had the honor to know. I love you, Patrick! Thank you for constantly reminding me that this is not where our story ends.
I found this poem the other day and it made me think of my sweet husband.
“It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since “men don’t cry”
and “men are strong”.
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she’s all right
And what she’s going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
“My friend, but how are you?”
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But “stays strong” for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day a new.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.” – Unknown