Letting it All Hang Out
I must confess, I’ve been a little lackadaisical in keeping that air of mystery alive in the ol’ marriage. My corazon breaks for my husband. He’s a great one, so he’s said nary a word about it, but as I stared at my salves (read: hemorrhoid cream, suppositories, Monistat 7) littering the bathroom, I felt a twinge of guilt.
I firmly believe in not going to the bathroom or breaking wind in front of my spouse, but I feel a hypocrite espousing these points when one glance at the bathroom lets my husband know something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
The thing is, pregnancy makes a lot of things hang out. It requires a lady to have conversations she thought she’d never have, getting down to the nitty gritty with one’s spouse: the cervix, the engorgement, the milk ducts…need I go on?
Like I said, the Rands is a solid. He doesn’t bat an eye when I pee my pants and regularly asks about my fiber intake to ensure bathroom success. Heck, I know he’d make me a “dry days” chart just like when we potty trained our toddler if I requested it. He shies away from no conversation and listens to my ailments. I appreciate this tremendously.
Just because I scored in the marital department however, doesn’t mean I have free reign to be that girl who lets pregnancy get the best of her and especially her marriage. I’m calling myself out. It’s time to clean up my act and my creams.
Sure there are days when I just am that pregnant girl. The one who is slowly but surely turning into the hunchback of Notre Dame to compensate for the burgeoning bump, the one wiping tear stains off her phone because the ol’ hormones struck again and I had to talk it out, the one who decides it’s best to bring up any and every feeling I’ve ever had after 11pm, or the one who can’t fathom um, er, physical activity…of any kind, past 8pm. Oh that pregnant girl. Bless my husband’s heart for loving her so.
But to be honest, I’m feeling a bit sheepish at the realization that I’ve let myself go a bit, in the wife department. Marriage is about mystery at times. Surprise. Knowing when to shut one’s pie hole. The Rands has proven he understands pregnancy ain’t easy. He’s no stranger. He’s mostly a saint. And sure, pregnancy can be rough on a lady, but them significant others, they have some rough days as well.
I know my husband regularly looks past my strict sweat pants after 7pm policy, the crumbs settled in for the long haul on my protruding belly, and my annoying habit of mooching all of his food. We both look past things at any given time in marriage, but I don’t want him to always need to look past the little things, which make up the big things. I don’t want him to feel unappreciated. His understanding, his kindness, especially during pregnancy, makes me want to try a little harder.
Pregnancy and kids change marriage. It requires some readjusting, some forgiveness, and a lot of laughter. I believe in the importance of honesty and sharing in marriage. But I also believe in holding certain cards close to your chest to keep it interesting and less like roomies and more like, “hello lover.” So I stand here today, ready to reform my careless ways and not let the state of my lady bits be on display at any given moment. May the force be with me.Add a Comment