My husband

This post is overdue.  LONG overdue.

Excuse my while I take a few minutes to give a big shout out and do a little bragging about my husband - as I sit here watching him hold our miracle son while he naps.  Heart = melted.

I've always known I was lucky to land this catch, but I never really know how lucky until the last year and a half.  Infertility doesn't just take a toll on the woman, but also the man.  Not only did Matt deal with all of his own feelings, etc., but he also took care of me.  He gave me every single injection.  EVERY SINGLE ONE during our three rounds of IVF.  He went to (and drove) every appointment but one.  He held my hand during every procedure and ultrasound.  He was my should to cry on at home when the hormones and emotions took over and were just too much.  He made phone calls I didn't want to make.

Fast forward to our third cycle - the cycle that gave us our son.  Again, Matt went to every single appointment.  He gave me every single injection.  He didn't complain once. I was a total anxious mess for the first twelve weeks of that pregnancy.  Let's face it, I was anxious throughout most of the first twenty-two weeks until I could feel our little guy moving and grooving inside me.  Even after that, the worry never fully went away.  We worked so hard to get where we were and I was so scared that it would be taken away in an instant.  Matt dealt with my anxiety.  He held my hand.  He held me tight and hugged me.  He reassured me that everything was going to be ok.  He calmed my nerves before every ultrasound when I literally thought I was going to shit my pants sitting on the exam table because I was so nervous and scared that something wasn't right.  He was my rock.

I had major fatigue during most of my pregnancy - most likely due to working full time plus coaching at the same time.  That made for extremely long and tiring days.  Matt cleaned the house.  He did the laundry.  He had dinner on the table when I got home every single night.  He made sure the dogs got exercise.  And he found the time to get to every single one of my home games.

Fast forward again to Thursday, June 19th - the day we were sent to labor and delivery because my blood pressure had skyrocketed.  The day the midwife told us to "go home and get your bags and go directly to the hospital.  I see no reason to keep this boy inside you any longer."  We left the office that day in a bit of shock.  It was really happening.  We drove home.  We finished packing our bags (oops).  We called the dog sitter.  We got in the car and we drove to the hospital.  We took the elevator to the fourth floor, stepped off, and checked in.  I laid in the monitoring bed all hooked up.  We watched the screen monitor my blood pressure and Hudson's heart beat.  Matt constantly asked if I was comfortable.  Asked what he could do to help out.

Four hours later, I was officially admitted.  We were having this baby!  What was the first thing Matt asked the nurse?  "Can she eat before you start the pitocin?  It's been a long time and she is hungry."  I had my "last supper".  A turkey sandwich and chicken noodle soup - that never tasted so good!  I put on my gown and got into bed.  Matt went to the car and got our bags and my pillow.  (Suggestion to those of you packing hospital bags - take your own pillow!)  

For the next thirty hours, he did not leave my side.  Not once.  Matt held my hand through every contraction - despite the fact that I was breaking his fingers at times.  (Figuratively)  He encouraged me.  He constantly asked if I needed anything.  If I did, he got to.  Water, ice chips, another pillow, another blanket, an epidural, cold wash cloths, etc.  Whatever I wanted/needed, he was my advocate.  He was my cheerleader.  Constantly telling me I was doing great.  Then it was time to push (even though we both knew it wasn't going to go anywhere).  Matt held my leg and saw things he never wanted to see - haha.  Again, constantly telling me I was doing great, keep it up, that I was kicking ass.  He (and everyone else in the room at this point) was my advocate for a c-section.  Our son was not in the right position and I was physically drained after 32 hours of labor and no sleep.  He was my partner in the operating room.  He held my hand.  He listened to me tell him (like a 17 year old drunk) that I threw up when I got into the room.  He took the first photos of our son.  He held him for the first time.  He showed our son to me for the first time.  He had tears of joy in his eyes the second Hudson was born.  Again, my (totally out of it from pain meds) heart was melted.  He walked past the operating table and saw gross things he never wanted to see (he claims my uterus was laying on my stomach.. haha) so that he could bring our son to me.  He went to the nursery to make sure everything was good with Hudson.  He met me in the recovery room.  Again, he held my hand and told me everything was perfect.  He talked me through the pain.  He reminded me that it was all worth it.

Matt did every diaper change and bottle feeding (when we had to) for the first day and a half in the hospital.  I could barely move.  My muscles were so sore from pushing for so long and my incision was painful.  Every time I had to get out of bed, he helped me get up, walked me to where I needed to go, and helped me ease myself back into bed.  If I needed something to eat, he got it.  If I needed my pillow adjusted, he adjusted it.  The poor guy even dried my legs when I got out of the shower because it was too painful to bend over that far.  You get the point.  This continued the entire time we were in the hospital.

Then it was time to come home.  We have been home for a full week at this point.  Matt has done every "last" feeding of the night so I could try and get some extra rest early.  He has done every middle of the night feeding so that I could pump and not have to stay awake longer.  If I need something upstairs, he gets it.  He has cooked dinner.  He has done laundry.  He has fed the dogs and made them to play with them.  He has driven me to every doctors appointment, and gotten Hudson ready to go to each and every one of them.

My incision split open at one spot this weekend, which put me on bed rest until Monday when the doctor would see me.  Matt (and my mom) did everything.  He went to Wal Mart and bought a gazillion boxes of gauze to keep packing the wound.  He changed the dressing when it needed changed.  He took care of Hudson - feeding, diapering, soothing, etc.  All while I laid on the couch and watched with tears in my eyes.  Again, he hugged me and told me everything was ok.. while I cried.  It didn't matter that he only got a few hours of sleep and spent all of his awake time running around.  He still found the time to make me feel better.  All without complaining once and still sporting a huge smile every time he was with Hudson.  The love he shows for our son makes me love him even more.. which I didn't know was possible.

Basically, Matt is my rock.  He is my sanity.  My biggest cheerleader and my biggest support system.  Honestly, I would be completely lost without him.  He is my soul mate and best friend.  Cheers to you, Matt.  I love you.