It’s hard to believe it’s been nine years since I said “I do” to my amazing husband. Those years have been filled with joy, adventure, and a whirlwind of experiences—three children, family expansions, heartbreaking losses, three home relocations, and an abundance of takeaway curry and reality TV shows that we hesitate to admit we enjoy.
I can vividly recall our wedding day, a truly beautiful celebration surrounded by our dearest family and friends. My parents orchestrated most of the details, and my husband, having never attended a wedding before, wandered around in a daze (a side effect of an unexpected bachelor night out). He shouted his vows in nervousness while I wept through mine.
Looking back at those photographs fills me with mixed emotions. Yes, I’ve had three children since then, which makes it a bit disheartening to see our younger, slimmer selves. But more than that, it’s the faces of loved ones who are no longer with us that evoke a sense of nostalgia—the grandparents who shared in our joy, and my husband’s radiant mother, who looked stunning in her hat, a price tag I promised never to disclose (and honestly, I can’t quite remember it anyway, likely due to the wine we shared during our shopping trip).
The absence of those dear to us ignites a fierce determination to embrace every moment, even when I wake up feeling utterly drained. Life seemed simpler back in those early days when I thought I had all the answers—marriage, parenting, you name it.
On the night before my wedding, I was back in my childhood home, watching The Muppets Christmas Carol with my parents, about to sleep in my sister’s old room (just like I used to when I was scared during storms). It was then that my mom presented me with something old: her own mother’s engagement ring. She offered this nugget of wisdom: “You think you love him now, but just wait a few years when the novelty fades. Then you’ll truly understand what love is.”
My sister and I couldn’t help but laugh at our dad’s antics, who was balancing a coffee mug on his chin while trying to sing “There goes Mr. Humbug…” But as time has passed, her words resonate deeper (minus the mug balancing).
So, to my husband, I once again reaffirm our vows:
To Have and To Hold
Remember when we used to hold hands everywhere? When evenings were spent snuggled together on the couch? Yeah, me neither. As I write this, you’re pretending to sleep at the edge of the bed while our 4-year-old is sprawled between us like a starfish, our 2-year-old using me as a trampoline, and our 6-year-old narrating his FIFA match from across the room. To have and to hold? Not a chance.
For Better or Worse
Our marriage has seen plenty of good times and some challenging ones too—not just my cooking! The joyful days have been a delight to share, despite the fact that every photo we take is marred by your infamous “face” (you know the one). There have been moments I wish we hadn’t experienced—losses so profound that words fail. Yet, it’s those trying times that truly define us, the days you’ve supported me, made me laugh, and carried me through, even when you were struggling too. Please don’t ever change, even the quirks that make me roll my eyes.
In Sickness and in Health
I’ve lost count of the number of awkward moments you’ve had in front of doctors, the laughter we’ve shared in antenatal cubicles, and how often you’ve held my hair back. From the Great Chicken Pox of 2007 to the Hand Foot and Mouth Outbreak of 2006, and even the time I broke my arm after a slippery shower incident (yes, I literally fell down the toilet), we’ve had our fair share of health adventures.
Sometimes your comments have been a bit off-mark (“She’s just got a cold!” when she had viral meningitis), but thankfully, you’ll never be a pediatrician. Nevertheless, you balance my energy perfectly, like Jack Dawson to my Rose DeWitt Bukater (and you’d definitely be the one to grab the raft).
Until Death Do Us Part
We’ve made our pact—if one of us goes first, the other is allowed a week in Vegas or a destination of choice to “get over” our loss. After that, we both agree the other could start looking for a replacement. And yes, I know I need to stop leaving teabags by the sink if I want to avoid that scenario.
Happy anniversary to my husband. I have to admit, my mom was right all along.
If you enjoyed this piece, be sure to check out our other article on home insemination kits for valuable insights. For further information on natural family planning, visit Intracervical Insemination, an authoritative source on this topic. Also, don’t miss out on Women’s Health, which is an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, love evolves over time, revealing deeper layers as life unfolds. The journey of marriage is filled with laughter, challenges, and cherished memories, reinforcing the importance of companionship and understanding.