I couldn’t be more grateful to be his wife.
We are both beyond exhausted with our first baby. My water broke 10 weeks early while visiting the other side of the country for a wedding so I was hospitalized away from home for 3 weeks while they kept me pregnant and monitored us for infection. Our baby boy made his entry to the world at 33 weeks and went to the NICU.
While I was in the hospital my husband did everything he could to support me, he slept on that awful hospital couch every night and never left my side. The moment our son was here he became the most incredible father. He took care of me postpartum in every way, helping me with my peri bottles and diapers, holding me while I cried about our baby boy in the NICU, and pushing me up in a wheelchair to see him. Every day we spent from morning until evening with our son in the hospital. When our son was discharged my husband scrambled to get everything we would need for a few nights in a hotel with a preemie newborn. After that, he got us home safely, holding our tiny baby boy in his arms for nearly the whole time on our two long flights home so I could sleep between pumps. When we got home he spent days setting up, he worked all day opening boxes and putting together bassinets, changing tables, and bottle washers. I never wanted to pump, I only wanted to breastfeed, but that hasn’t been possible for us. My husband has done everything to support me with pumping, while always reassuring me I can switch to formula if it ever becomes too much.
Our son is now 8.5 weeks old, 2 weeks adjusted, and he cries if we ever put him down. My husband and I sleep in shifts, so I’m writing this from our living room with our boy laying on my chest. I probably have PPD, both due to my history of mental health issues and trauma from the complications. We are very fortunate our son is now in good health, but we are solidly in the trenches. We are running on fumes.
I have never loved my husband more. I have never admired anyone the way I admire him. I hope I can be half the partner and parent he is. I tell him every day, but I’m not sure he could possibly understand how I feel about him. I can’t wait to take care of him again when I have my strength back. I can’t wait to spend my life with him. I love our son, and I love loving our son together.