An Open Letter to my Husband

Dear B,

I am writing to you at a time that is not very easy for me. As you know, I have been crazy the past two months now. First from the birth control pills ( which Ive never taken before) and second from all those darn shots. I know that I have not been easy to deal with. And yet- you never blow up on me ( which I know is hard for you- especially since I am so irrational).

This past year of TTC, every time I had a negative hpt, you would say “don’t worry it will happen”. You never, ever blamed me for not being able to conceive ( although it is my body that is causing the trouble). How could you not be mad? I think a part of me would be if it was the other way around.

You have always been so relaxed, and have been my rock. YOU ARE MY ROCK.

It’s funny how life works out.

I grew up with you- our parents were friend’s before we were born. And although you lived in a different country, and we grew up completely differently- we couldn’t be more right for one another. As a child, when I would go to Israel for summer vacation, we played and laughed. As we got older, I fell for you.

I thought you were the one for me (although you knew of my feelings and were not interested). I never wavered.

From the age of 15-20 you had that girlfriend that I loathed. I loathed her because she was with you. G-D I hated her and wished all sorts of bad things on her ( I still kinda do).

The strange thing is, I didn’t really know who you were on the inside- your feelings, or dreams, or experiences. You never shared more than the surface.
It was a sense that I couldn’t describe- like “yup, that’s the one.”
You were like a young fonzyrebellious, had a motorcycle, smoked at 13, and dropped out of high school. I loved it. Of course this is not something to be proud of, but every girl likes a rebel. Today I know that you dropped out of school and smoked because your mother died when you were 10, and your father never fully took over the authoritative role. He let you and your brother do what you wanted. All you wanted was someone who cared.
But look at you today- finally in college, you work full time and you are taking charge of our life- and not letting your past mistakes dictate your future. I love that.

I still have the love letter I wrote for you as a tween. I spoke about the way you made me feel, and how I knew you didn’t feel the same for me. But I never gave you that letter. I kept it in my memory box.

I showed it to you once we were a couple.

You laughed.

How could people so different fit so well?

You are the quiet introvert, I am the loud extrovert. You balance me. You made me a better person. I was a spoiled little princess when we began our relationship and you were to have none of that. I like who I am today because of you.

That is why it has been so hard for me this past year. I want a child with you. I want a baby that is us. Your eyes, hopefully my nose (because we both know that we don’t want the child to suffer with a schnoz like yours)- and of course the Jew-Fro.

I want to solidify our family. We are now just a couple- I want us to be a family.

Wouldn’t our love story be nice to tell our children some day?

I love you.


Your hormonal wife


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