What True Love Is

 It’s officially Valentine’s Day. I want to share what love looks like, and how amazing my husband is. 


This might be too much info for some. Or too graphic for others. Or even completely unromantic. But life is intimate and graphic and messy and unexpected. 


Over the last 5 months, I have gained a new appreciation for what love looks like. I’ve always known my husband was amazing and loving and attentive. But in the last five months, he has held me and cried with me when we lost our son. He held our son and rocked him when he was born already gone from this world. He cared for our other 5 children when I couldn’t do more than sit on the edge of the bed barely stringing together coherent thoughts.  


Today, I was going to announce that we were expecting again. I have an ultrasound scheduled and I had a cute little video reel planned. But instead, I am in bed recovering from an emergency D&E to stop the hemorrhage that accompanied my miscarriage. My husband spent his Sunday walking me to the bathroom, getting me clean underwear and helping me change my pads. Every 15 minutes, my husband walked me to the bathroom, cleaned me up and then cleaned up the mess that a massive bleed leaves. And then he sat with me in the ER, changed out my underpads, and washed my feet that were crusted in blood. He sat with me while I had exams and ultrasounds. While we confirmed that our baby was gone. He sat calmly by my side while I was prepped for surgery. He stood physically and emotionally strong by my side because I couldn't do either in that moment. He tucked me in bed and drove 25 minutes to get me food to a restaurant that was closed and then came home to make me food instead. He never complained and never wavered. He stood by me. He took calls from his friends who I am so grateful to for offering him support. But he did it while holding my hand before surgery and then while changing diapers and feeding kids. 


Me and My Love at his company holiday party 2021
He is the very best man I could choose for a husband. The very best father I could choose for my children. He’s not perfect. But perfect isn’t what love looks like. 


It looks like patience and kindness and protection and humility and sacrifice. It looks like joy and sadness being shared and strengthening your bond. It looks more like washing your feet when you can't than it does like roses and candlelight. 






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