I‘ve been with my other half for over eight years now, almost nine. Before we had our daughter, our relationship was a pretty average one with. It was simple.
We were both happy together, but naturally suffered from ups and downs like all relationships eventually do. We were both so young when we met, that every down felt like the end of the world.
When in reality, half of the issues we were arguing about or dealing with; were completely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. But when we weren’t arguing, we were in a comfortable and natural relationship and spent less time worrying about the future, and more time just enjoying each moment – and each other.
But then we found out I was pregnant. To say that the news of my pregnancy led to an emotional rollercoaster, would be a complete understatement.
Unfortunately, the initial stress and high emotions led to us actually splitting up for a short while.
But once things had begun to settle down, and we realised that we both wanted the same things; we reunited. As cliché as it may sound, once we got back together, we were stronger than we had ever been before.
I know that everyone says that after some sort of issue in a relationship, but for us it was true.
Knowing we were about to become a proper little family changed the whole dynamic of our relationship.
He pretty much became the perfect boyfriend throughout the entire pregnancy – looking after me when I was sick; escorting me to doctors’ appointments and holding my hands during scans or tests and even doing silly things like fetching me all my craving snacks prior to the cravings starting, just to be thoughtful.
We still didn’t really worry much about the future, but instead began to enjoy planning one together with our future child. We would think about what being a family would mean; what raising a child together would mean for us and most of all what our little one would be like. Everything was pretty much perfect between us.
Then our little girl, Sophie, was born. For a long while, everything was still pretty much perfect between us. We were both completely in love with her, and with each other and the whole experience had brought us so much closer together.
I felt safe and secure whilst around him, and it was as if the three of us were floating around in a little bubble of bliss.
Unfortunately, back then we were unable to live together so the majority of raising our daughter rested on my shoulders. Which was fine because I adored her, and every day was so much better with her around. However, I had no help during the night feeds and I was with her day in, day out.
Whilst he was off to college, played sports and was constantly interacting with other people. The most interaction I got during the day was the postman! Any time he had free he was with us, and it was perfect and he was a (and still is) a fantastic father. However, I begun to resent him: I felt so alone and left behind from the real world.
This then led to feeling ashamed that I felt that way towards him. Although I loved my daughter, and every day with her was perfect – I sometimes still wanted to be my own person and interact with people my own age.
It was hard not being able to do that, whilst watching the person I love do everything that I couldn’t. I eventually grew tired of the way I felt, and it led to many arguments and lots of doubts, low self-esteem and tears. Lots and lots of tears – especially on my part. I mean, I had just had a baby.
But, regardless of everything, it didn’t actually matter.
The very core of our relationship had already been strengthened with the birth of Sophie; and because of that it didn’t matter how much we screamed at each other or fought – we were completely and utterly devoted to one another. We still are.
A few years later, the day after my 18th birthday he whisked me away for a romantic weekend away in London and proposed. This was then followed by the unexpected arrival of our son, Oliver.
Once again he was incredible during the whole of the very long nine months and supported me throughout, in whatever way I needed. He put up with all of my mood swings and worries over our unborn son. He constantly made sure to do sweet gestures to make me feel better, like running me baths and simple things like tidying up so I didn’t have to worry about it. He just made everything so much easier for me, during a time I felt awful and often felt like giving up.
Following his birth, Oliver suffered from some complications and during the first three months of his life; we were constantly in and out of hospitals.
There many tears, lots of panicked moments and plenty of shouting and screaming at one another due to the amount of stress and worry each of us felt. But regardless, we managed to stick by one another and give each other the support we both desperately needed.
Now that things have settled down and we have been able to just enjoy being a family of four, our arguments are most based around normal couple things – such as what to watch on TV, or why somebody didn’t put the washing machine on and so on. Normal things.
We still have rather large ups and downs, and sometimes I can barely stand to be in the same room as him. But once I have eventually calmed down, all I want to do is curl up on the sofa with him and watch rubbish Tv whilst the kids rush around, making noise and playing happily together. That’s my idea of perfect.
Right now, we are currently in the middle of finalising all of our plans for our wedding which will be later this year. Now that everything with our little family has finally settled down, we can begin the next massive step in our journey as a couple.
Most of our arguments are currently about cake flavours, flowers or what songs we want played at the wedding. We still have the occasional huge arguments, but they are easily sorted out.
Having a baby is a huge commitment, let alone having two or more. So is getting married, and I could not imagine committing myself to anyone else.
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