What is a Husband??

What is a husband? According to Google a husband is “a married man considered in relation to his spouse.” Some synonyms are spouse, partner, mate, consort, man, helpmate, etc.

My husband is so much more than those words. Is he all those words mentioned; spouse, partner, mate, helpmate? Yes, of course! But to me he is my hero.

I haven’t officially been diagnosed with Transient Migratory Osteoporosis as the testing I need to have done to confirm it cannot be completed until after delivery of the babies; however, I’m strongly confident that this condition is what I have. If you’ve read my previous blogs you’ll noticed I’ve mentioned it before and talked a little about what it is and somewhat of how it effects the body, but this blog isn’t about that today. No, it’s about my husband.

I always knew my husband was a good man. He has a kind heart. He often thinks about other people’s problems and how to solve them before his own. He prays daily for those he knows in need. He is a hard worker. He doesn’t complain. He’s an animal lover, and especially has a soft spot for big dogs. He likes to read true stories about World War II. He’s compassionate and loving. He would be embarrassed to know I’m writing all this on a public platform but really he is one of the best human beings I’ve ever known. It’s why I married him.

Since the pain of the “Osteoporosis” has set in my husband has stepped up, in ways that I never knew he could or imagined he would have to. This condition has left me paralyzed with pain. Most people know I’m in a wheelchair now, and have been for the majority of three months. What people do not know is that the pain is debilitating and I can no longer stand on my own two feet. My legs collapse and my knees buckle under my weight, but my husband is always there to catch me, literally. He helps me into and out of the bed. He wheels me around the house, especially to the bathroom. He cooks. He cleans. He does laundry, folds the clothes (I help!) and he puts them away because I can no longer reach. Last time I tried it took me over three hours to put the clothes away. He packs my lunch, helps me get dressed and puts on my socks because my stomach is now too big I can’t bend down and my legs hurt so bad I can’t bring them up. He makes sure I have on my knee and ankle braces. He drives me to and from work every day, even when he knows he’s going to be late to his own job. He makes sure I have everything I need before telling me goodbye.

But I think most importantly he’s my shoulder to cry on. I’m not typically a public crier. I like to pretend I’m strong and hold it together, but behind closed doors Eric has seen every tear that has fallen because of this condition. I get frustrated that I need so much help. I get angry I cannot do it by myself. I sometimes hurt so bad the only thing I can do is cry, and he just holds me, kisses my head and tells me it’s going to be okay. And I believe him. I know as long as I have him, it will be ok because he’ll make sure of it. There are some days where I just bite off his head. I’m snappy, cranky and mean. He’s not once bit back at me. He may step away for a breather but he never gets angry at me or snaps. He knows I hurt and that’s the reason for my attitude. I understand why some old people are mean… they are just hurting and in pain. I think I apologize to my hubby at least once every day, either because I’ve been nasty or because I feel bad that I cannot do for myself and he does everything for me.

I jokingly tell him to leave me and find a new wife. One who doesn’t live like a geriatric at age 28. He always tells me “no, my vows were to you. For richer or poorer, in SICKNESS and in health. Till death do us part.” That sickness part has definitely been a huge part of our lives since the very beginning and it continues to torment us and make us feel the effects of being poorer because of it. I love him though and would never change a thing and he says the same for me. With how much he helps me now, I know he’s going to continue to be a huge help in the future, especially when the girls make their grand arrival. I know he’ll pick up my slack and not complain when he works all day, comes home and I need help with something because he already does it for me.

If anything, I wish all women could find a husband like mine. One who will take care of you in good times and also in times of trouble. One who is not afraid to get his hands dirty and figure things out. One who will love you unconditionally and do absolutely anything for you.

Eric is my ride or die and I love him with all my heart. I cannot thank him enough, I’ll never be able to, for everything he’s ever done for me.