A little over a year ago, my husband and I went through the unimaginable. We lost our child, Lillian, to a congenital heart defect. The days following that, and even to this day, people will comment on how strong I am. How well I’ve dealt with this darkness. How they can’t imagine what I am going through.
The truth is I was never alone.
From the day we found out I would give birth to a child who had complex heart defects, my husband has been there. Always in the background of what others saw but ever so present in every moment with me. We did this together. Every hospital visit, every sleepless night, every tear, every single thing.
I wouldn’t be this strong without him.
I wouldn’t be dealing with the dark times so well without him. I wouldn’t be me without him.
He’s a man who won’t ask for much but will quietly and humbly give you everything in return.
He’s a man who’s walked through some of the darkest places but still managed to be the light to those around him.
He’s a man whose emotions aren’t worn on his sleeve, but if you know him well enough, he will show you everything his heart feels.
He’s a man who has been dealt broken promises by many but still shows up 100% for them.
He’s a man who has questioned God’s purpose for things but still shows up at church and has faith that someday the answers will be clear.
He’s a man who works 12-hour shifts (sometimes for 60 days straight) but still manages to make time for his family.
He’s a social man of many words, but there are very few people he deems worthy of having deep conversations with.
He’s a man with a hard exterior but really feels it all—every emotion.
He’s a man who is admired by many but told by few.
He’s a man you’d be lucky to know, to love, and to have as a part of your life.
He’s my man.