We're in this together.

Twenty-four years ago, we said "I do." Sometimes, it's hard to remember the people we were back then, the dreams we dreamed, the plans we made. We said "in sickness and in health." Boy howdy, did my new husband get more than he bargained for there--nine months of pregnancy nausea followed quickly by chemotherapy and radiation. He married a petite, long-haired girl and by the time we celebrated our third anniversary, I'd been fat and bald (and throwing up) most of our married life . He was a very good sport.

In all seriousness, he was better than a good sport. He was everything I could have ever hoped for and more than I ever imagined. He was with me at every single doctor's appointment. Every single blood draw. Every step of the way. We walked that path alone. Together. None of our friends were married yet, never mind married with a baby and cancer. Many of our friends from high school and college walked out of our life as we walked this unpaved path. Together, we found a strength in Someone bigger than we were. Together we dreamed hope. 

And we were never the same. It was never him and me again.

It was us. Together. With God.

Then the babies came. It takes a very strong man to say "yes" to every opportunity to be co-creators with God. A very strong, very faithful, very hard-working man. One after another, every two years until there were seven of them, all lined up like a staircase, each one looking very much like the next one. Seven precious souls to love and cherish and teach and drive to soccer. It was still us--but us plus them. Busy. Busy. Busy. Mike building a career. Me, holding down the fort at home. Still together, but sometimes, much more often than we liked,  just in spirit.

Two more really hard pregnancies, the second one a refresher course in life-threatening goal setting. There he was again, right beside me every time it got so scary I thought the fear would crush me. Lovely miracles, two golden haired sweethearts. They are his heart's delight. Even now, nearly three years after the second was born, I can't quite believe how generously and abundantly our good God answers our fervent prayers.

{Speaking of prayers, I have prayed for Mike every day since we were sophomores in high school. That's a crazy lot of prayers. Thirty years of daily prayers. 10,950 days worth of prayers. }

But back to those babies. Nine babies in all--nine babies to feed and clothe and educate. He has worked so hard all these years, often far away in a TV truck parked outside one stadium or another. He has spent many a night in hotel bed, trying to sleep just a couple of hours before catching the early flight home. And I've been here, trying to do all the things that need doing, trying to craft home, even when home is a lonely place without him. Together we've done the best we can. So often, he calls and he says he I wishes I were there. I believe him. I wish I were there, too. He's really good at what he does in those trucks and those studios and I wish I could come alongside him more often and watch him in action.

Early this year, we made a gut-wrenching decision. He sacrificed a huge opportunity and a long-hoped-for title and we prayed the tradeoff would be to settle down a bit at last. The whole idea was to bring him home. That hasn't quite worked out yet (though I'm assured it will very soon). He has been gone a lot since that decision, finishing up his freelance work and then working indescribably long hours  to launch a new show. The show is shot in Miami, but produced in DC. He has done his level best to be both places at once. Neither place is home.  

Today is our 24th wedding anniversary. Today, that show launches. He has a big day ahead of him. He will be working from dawn until showtime. Then, late in the afternoon, he will watch the show become what he envisioned-- in a cold studio in another city. And just like every other time, he will want to share the moment.

This time will be different.

A lot of people who love us (most of them those aforementioned babies) have come together to cover all my bases at home. God willing, when that show goes to air, and Mike is watching months of work come to fruition, he will be surprised to see me standing right beside him. 

Because, today, I can't imagine being anywhere else.

{Thanks for listening to this story. I have never surprised my husband with anything; I have a very hard time not telling him my every thought. So, the writing of this piece was therapy. I had to spill it somewhere and telling Karoline didn't seem a prudent option. So, I will set it to auto-post at a time I am quite certain he won't see it. That means that you are in on the secret, because really I'm a terrible secret keeper and I had to tell someone and you are much less likely to spill the beans than my little girls.}