Day 199: A Hallmark Day

This afternoon, I watched a Hallmark movie. They all make me cry, but this one was about a woman whose husband was a Navy pilot during WWII and was listed as MIA, but she never stopped waiting for him to come home. She was pregnant when he left, and he never met his son. Talk about a tear jerker! I cried through the whole thing. I guess after feeling the way I did last night, missing Chad so much, hating this half life without him, I should have known better than to watch it. Lil Bit crawled up into my lap for nap time and I had to wipe the tears from her cheeks that had run down mine.

The movie was part of the Hallmark Channel Anniversary celebration so every commercial break was an emotional reminder of how Hallmark cards and recordable books can be so very special in our lives. I normally wouldn't get so touched, but this year without Chad I was worried about our little girl not knowing her father.

Right before he left, I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, All the Ways I Love You. On the back of the book is a note asking if the book has meant something to you, to write to Hallmark and let them know. I've considered writing them about how important the book has been to our family. Something along the lines of the following:

When my husband and I married, we knew we would never have any biological children together. We thought about adopting, but weren't sure we would ever be able to afford it. After years of living as frugally as possible, all the stars aligned and we brought home our precious baby girl.

My husband is a soldier and misses a lot of his family's lives. We were so thrilled when our daughter was born when he was home. He was able to spend the week she was in the NICU with us and most of the first three months of her life, including the most special day of finalizing her adoption.

He left for Iraq a week later. She was three months old. She was so small, still such a newborn. I worried about her first year being fatherless. I worried about how much he would miss and also how much she would lose not having her daddy, the snuggles, the first milestones, the bedtime stories.

So I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, and my husband carefully recorded each page and locked the recording the day before he deployed. We started reading it daily that night. I cried when I heard his voice crack on the last line. She was captivated from the first time she heard it. Every time we read it, she stops squirming and settles in, staring intently at each page, listening closely.

As she got old enough I could hold the phone to her ear, my heart melted when her face lit up at his voice like I had never seen her smile on the phone with anyone else. She recognized his voice, she knew her father. Yesterday, she even said "Da da" on the phone to him.

We have a few weeks left to go before he gets to come home for R&R and a few months before he comes home for good. I worry about his safety everyday, and I worry about his daughter getting to know her father, but at least I know when he comes home, she will know the sound of his voice.

A lot of soldiers come home to children that are so little they've forgotten their dads or moms. The children are nervous or afraid of the stranger in their homes. All mommy or daddy wants to do is hug them hard and make every second count to make up for the many that were missed. I can't imagine the heartbreak of a parent whose child is afraid of them or too shy to go to them, but I am hopeful that my husband will not ever have to know that sadness because my daughter sees his pictures around the house and hears him read her a bedtime story every night.

As an Army wife, we do all we can to maintain the house and the family while our soldiers are gone. I have a Teddy Bear in Army uniform, pictures of him in her crib at daycare and all around our house, and his voice in a special book that reminds her not only of how her daddy sounds, but how much he loves her everyday in every way. And that has made all the difference to my precious little girl and her far away daddy, who nightly says, "I love you round and round the world. I love you through and through. And when it seems impossible to love you more . . . I do."

Day 355: Suck it up

Yesterday, a new wife facing her husband's first deployment commented that her mother-in-law (MIL) had told her to "Suck it Up and deal! You signed up for this." She was very upset and frustrated with her MIL. I told her I could relate.

First, my mother-in-law is AWESOME! We <3 her!! But we did have a similar conversation many years ago. It was Chad's second deployment, but my first. We were just engaged and busily planning the wedding. It was one of those days when the weight of missing him just drags me down and the emptiness he leaves in my heart twists and turns inside my stomach like a fear dagger. I don't remember exactly what I said or what she said, but the essence was this is what you signed up for. My son doesn't need to deal with your tears and weakness. You need to be strong for him.

I was taken aback. Here was the one person I expected to understand the worry, fear, longing, love and she was sharp, almost cold to my plea for support. It was one of those comments that stung for a time, but got forgotten. She is very supportive and probably reading this right now so I don't want her to think I am upset, but I have learned a few things along the way, now three deployments into this marriage.

1) After two glasses of wine, don't ask my MIL anything unless you expect the unvarnished truth! 2) Her experience and fears are different than mine. She saw me vulnerable and weak and went straight into momma bear mode. She saw the woman her son loves desperately, has gone over and beyond to propose to and make a life for, being weak. She saw her son's heart breaking when I change my mind about marrying him or marry him and eventually cheat or leave. She saw with her heart and wanted to be sure that I was strong enough to maintain a marriage during the most difficult of times and that I would be strong enough that he could leave me, children, home to go into war without worry. His mind has to be singularly focused on what he is doing or he could put himself or others in danger.

While I still have those days when I need to cry, vent, rage, she now realizes that I need those releases so I can be the strong independent woman her son needs and not lose my mind. While she will never understand exactly what I am feeling during these long stretches of time he is away in danger, I will never fully appreciate her perspective either as a mother fearful for her precious child. We are both here loving and supporting my husband and each other. Military wife/MIL lesson aside, the real lesson is to see things from someone else's vantage point before you get your panties in a wad. Often the view is surprising.

Day 360: Frozen

I missed him today. He was online and I wasn't in front of the computer. By the time I realized he was on, he was gone. I feel guilty for missing him. He needed me to find and send him a document, and I didn't get the message in time to help him. This is one of the hardest parts of surviving the deployment. How do I balance living my life, doing my best to pass the time and being available for him to chat. Their schedules are sometimes so random and vary often. Between the craziness of his schedule and the 9 hour time difference, it is so hard to be there waiting every time he has a chance to talk.

I know it is ridiculous for me to feel like I have to sit here frozen to the computer or my phone every second and that he certainly doesn't want it that way, but the disappointment is palpable when I miss him. While perhaps a tad exaggerated, each time he calls or emails could be the last time we talk. We don't have the luxury of pretending that we have second chances. He is nearly as likely to be killed driving onto post (maybe more, have you seen those people drive?!) everyday as he does in Iraq, but not falling into bed next to him each night, losing precious years with him makes mortality tangible.

I remember the day we got married. His mother came into the bride's room and asked me if I were sure I wanted to marry him. I don't remember what I said exactly, but I remember feeling that the only regret I had was that it took me so long to find him and I regretted that I wouldn't have as many years to love him.


And now I have lost two + years already and will be losing another one out of the precious few we have together. We might have another 40 years at best and it isn't enough. I need every second I can find to love him, and feel cheated out of so many moments that a missed phone call feels like a lost week. Sometimes it is. I hope he knows how important he is to me and that even a missed moment is enough to keep me frozen to my computer or phone.