From the day we met I knew you’d be my husband. I know that sounds like something you hear from a fairytale book but that’s how I felt. I knew you’d be the one I’d spend the rest of my life with. Before long we started dating. I had no idea what would transpire. After all you are 11 years older than I am and unlike me you are a thinker. You know exactly when and how something’s going to happen. Me on the other hand, I know what I want when I want and how I want. I’ve always been that way and I attribute part of it to being a Leo and a Hispanic woman. But the connection we share is something I really value. You are the calm one, while I am the fiesty one. You talk me off ledges and are the calm to my storm. And this is where I get emotional. Where I always have a hard time expressing how I feel, which we all know is easy for me.
The first seven years of our relationship were a breeze. I was able to travel with my friends to a Mary Kay convention and see all the glitz and glam. I was able to compete in pageants and become a beauty queen; something I had always wanted to be. You were there by my side for all of it, supporting me, telling me I could do whatever I wanted to do. Then December of 2015 came, I thought I just had a cyst that would go away; but the pain got worse. Everything from there seems like a blur. It all went so quickly. The next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital bed being told I may never be able to have children, with my fiance sitting next to me. We had this plan. We were going to get married and then have four or five children because we wanted a large family. We wanted to hear kids running around and chasing after our dogs. That dream was shattered with those words. Hearing at 26 I was infertile was blindsiding and you were strong, you handled everything in stride and have told me no matter what everything would be okay. I wanted to show you I was strong and committed to doing anything that would help us have clarity and make a decision on what to do. Our second opinion was devastating. Hearing there is no chance is heartbreaking. But I held my head up, choked back my tears and asked again “why”. I came home and broke down and you were there to pick me back up. You always have been and I can’t thank you enough for that.
For that two years it’s been hard to have an identity. It’s been hard to not be lost. After all we’ve been married for 14 months, gone through two heart wrenching IUI’s that resulted in negative pregnancy tests, and trying naturally, all for it to turn out negative. I know that we are family but I want to give you children. I want to bear your children. I want to know what labor pain feels like. I want to know what moments after birth are like and what it feels like to hear your baby cry for the first time. But my body has failed you. My body is saying it isn’t strong enough. I’m also scared of what is ahead of us. IVF is an uphill battle. When do we start? How will the financial burden of it all affect us? I don’t have the answers to those questions and neither do you. But one things for sure, we’ll walk through this together. I know it’s not always easy because there are good and bad days. October 24th 2016 we vowed through in sickness and health we would love each other until death do us part. I know the next year is going to bring lots of frustration, tears and happiness but as long as we are together everything will be okay.
I love you more than words can express.
p.s. I promise to try not to bring home any more dogs without your permission