Last June, I started to think that, perhaps, my marriage might have a serious issue. See, my wife was having a difficult time and, seemingly, I was a part of that problem. It was like I could do nothing right. She was constantly criticizing herself and me as well. My 15 year old also could do nothing right. April and myself seemed to be growing apart.
For the life of me, I could not figure out what was going on with her and what the hell I had done wrong. Things were at the point where I thought the last hope we may have had was a weekend alone, to re-connect with each other. Or, at the very least, find out what was going on. She liked the idea and we decided to take a week end jaunt to the Norfolk, Virginia area. There is lots to do down there and it was not a long drive.
So, we made plans. Booked a room at a Hilton and made our plans. For once, everything seemed fine. We had a long talk the night we booked that room and decided that no, our marriage was not in jeopardy but, perhaps, we did have some issues.
Well, several days go by and, once again, she’s out of sorts. Chase and I were the devil.
During this period, she was still having some residual issues from her gall bladder surgery the previous fall. So, her doctor had scheduled an endoscopy.
In the months prior to this, we had been actively trying to get pregnant. We had no luck. Test after test (and, boy, did CVS love us for that) proved negative. Was it me? Was it her? Turns out, it wasn’t.
So, we sort of just stopped trying. That’s when things went downhill. Or, so it seemed.
Well, the night before the endoscopy, April decides to take one last test. She grabbed the test and headed for the bathroom. I’m in the bedroom, probably perusing Facebook or some techie-geeky site.
Suddenly, I hear…’Honey, I’m pregnant! I’m not crazy!’
Naturally, I go running into the bathroom and there she was, standing over the toilet, hands shaking, tears coming from her eyes. “I’m not crazy! I’m not!” I hugged her for what seemed like forever. It was only a minute, but it seemed like longer. Not that that was a bad thing. Hugging my half naked wife is always a good thing. Of course, it’s better when she is completely naked.
So, we stood there, looking at the test. Yep, there were two lines. No mistaking it.
“I need to try another test!”
“but, sweetie, this one was positive and we have no more.”
“Go get another one!”
So, I sped off to CVS to buy not one, but two more tests…just to be sure, mind you.
I get back and she takes another. Sure enough, two lines. She was not crazy. Not that I thought that, mind you.
Of course, they would not do the endoscopy because she might be pregnant. Her pregnancy was not ‘official’ yet, but would be shortly.
Those three words-“I’m not crazy” did more for us than anything. It was the hormones being out of whack that made things the way they had become. Seemingly, overnight, everything was great. Well, about as great as it can get with a hormonal pregnant woman.
The following nine months were pretty good for us. I think we grew closer and, as the idea of bringing another little one into the world sank in, I knew it was going to be quite a ride from then on out. I absolutely loved taking care of her, trying to pamper her as much as I could. Oh, as with any man, I made mistakes, said things I should not have, but, in the end, it was all good. Things turned around, we were closer than ever, regained our intimacy and had a good time.
And that weekend trip, we still went. And even though Norfolk turned out to be such a bust, we still enjoyed being with each other. Speculating about our upcoming addition to the family, talking about Chase and Preston and wondering how they would respond to our new addition.
In the end, we decided Chase would be fine with the baby, as he is a mature teen and able to cope with change. Preston, well, he was an unknown.
Admittedly, I had the occasional thought along the lines of “what the hell are you thinking? Are you f’ing crazy? You turned in the diapers years ago, mister!” But, they were just fleeting. Really, they were.