Celebrating 9 years ever after

Chris and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary this weekend and the first thing we did was dump Olivia off at her grandparents for the night.

Due to my bitch of an anxiety disorder, I couldn’t fathom doing something like this during Olivia’s first year. However, she’s going on 20 months, Mom offered to take her for the night—“You’ll never know how she does until you try it!” says my wise mother—and while I am grateful, thankful, blessed for my sweet miracle baby, I also miss, you know, my husband. In the way I used to be with him before we became parents.

I wrote this post on our actual anniversary this past Wednesday and this comment was left on there that I had to share as an intro to this anniversary celebration post:

I remember sitting in the NICU hospital waiting room with my parents, listening to the doctor explain how my sister’s baby – my niece & their granddaughter – was born with a virus, a super common virus that we all get but is devastating to fetuses (CMV) and how that caused her to be deaf in both ears, but would also likely leave lasting brain damage and that she’d probably never walk, talk, etc. It was their 30th wedding anniversary. I remember thinking when I looked over at them – that that was the kind of marriage I wanted. It’s easy to gloss over the negative parts of vows, the poorer, the sickness, the bad when you’re young and in love. It’s another thing to actually live them out over 9, 20, or 30 years. As a couple, you just never know what life is going to throw your way, or why certain timing seems especially unfair. What you do know is that you have each other through it all. I’m truly sorry that you have to share your anniversary with a painful memory – and I think you deserve extra congratulations. For being an example of what marriage is really about.

I know I’m emotional because of Adam and because I had my first therapy appointment Thursday (post on that later), but I read that comment and I burst into tears. (OK, I’m being dramatic. I teared up so bad I could hardly see the words and my nose started running) Because I hate what we’ve been through. I hate infertility, I especially hate losing babies and I hate that I spent the last six years telling myself I could be happy if only I had a baby.

Because through it all, I had a man by my side who wasn’t leaving, even when I told him he should. (Haven’t we all been there? Telling our husbands to leave us in a fit of Clomid rage so he can go procreate with someone more fertile? Even now I’m so rolling my eyes.) I had a man who stuck by me when I didn’t deserve it, and I had a man who stuck by me during the worst moments in my life.

So we celebrated this weekend, and Olivia was at her grandparents and while we snickered over dinner at the hilarious things she’s been doing, and both missed her—we needed this time, 19 hours to be exact, to be a husband and a wife.

It doesn’t make me any less grateful for my daughter. If anything, it makes me more grateful for her. Before her, I took for granted our time together, Chris and I. There is something about raising a child together that, um, really just makes you cherish the alone time together.

I gave Chris this book I made him, a LoveBook, (not an affiliate, I just think this is an awesome site) that I won in a giveaway and what I’ve been working on for a long time. Basically, a hilarious account of our life together as explained by stick figures and he loved it.

We dropped Olivia off at my parents’ Saturday, set up the pack n play, kissed her goodbye, and took off for Minneapolis to a restaurant we hadn’t been to before. We were using a Groupon because #ivfbills and could order anything on the menu.

And because I love food and therefore, love taking pictures of food, the next few pictures are of—food.

We ordered these pulled pork crostinis as an appetizer, and then shared a cup of onion soup.

I ordered the pot roast with garlic mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Chris got the salmon with roasted carrots and Chef’s risotto.

This is a small restaurant where they source most of their food locally, and… it was incredible. Our waiter was personable and we enjoyed having him, but then we waited forever for our bill, so we were in there for almost two hours and I ran out of water and was hot so… it didn’t end great, but hey. Crostinis with pulled pork. And garlic mashed potatoes. It turned out pretty good overall.

We shopped around for a bit after (and like most lame parents out on a date, went on a Target run) and grabbed a bottle of wine, or three, with some tiny bottles of Irish Cream for our coffee in the morning at the liquor store.

We drank successfully once we arrived home, looked at some of our old albums of our dating years, squeezed in some sexy time, and fell asleep around midnight.

We slept in until 8:30, and actually enjoyed waking up with each other instead of him tossing a toddler into bed with me to nurse while he throws on pajama pants to let the dog out. We snuggled, kissed and then both agreed it was time to make crepes.

I was able to pump 4 oz which was the most I’ve pumped since Olivia was about 5 months old. Weirdly, I started leaking as soon as I woke up, which was pretty crazy for me being almost 20 months out from having her. Then I texted my mom while Chris made the whipped cream for the crepes (Yes, ladies, he’s all mine) and she told me Olivia fussed for a bit around 5:00 am, and then slept in until 8:00. So I’m pretty sure we just set a new precedent and my parents will be more than eager to do this all again.

My mom sent me this picture of her during breakfast, so I’m pretty sure she had a blast at Grandma and Grandpas’:

We sliced strawberries and filled that and the whipped cream in the crepes and you guys. This husband of mine is a keeper.

Then we splashed some Irish cream in our coffee, had a great conversation without our preshus screeching and scaling us like Everest, and then I tried our new Shark vacuum. Because I’m lame, but also a lover of clean carpets. We picked Olivia up at noon and she was more than happy to see us and what I mean by that is she jumped on me, sprawled in my lap and demanded to nurse. Which I took as she missed me a lot.

Chris and I have come a long way from this, our first anniversary of us dating back in August of 2005 where we ate at Macaroni Grill:

In fact, I think I have a photo from an anniversary restaurant every year since then, including our first wedding anniversary at Chianti Grill in 2009:

It was right around when we first started trying to get pregnant, meaning there was lots of giggling under the covers and second thoughts about quitting birth control.

Bitch please.

Anyway, I love this man. I love who I’ve become because of him, and I love the thought of spending my life with him.

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