It’s a peculiar sentiment to express, but I truly miss my husband. It may sound absurd, given that he’s right here by my side. Surprising perhaps to the 65% of our wedding guests who anticipated our imminent chaos, we are still happily married, navigating the whirlwind of life with four children and all the delightful chaos that comes along with them.
Yet, I find myself missing him, even as we weave in and out of each other’s lives amidst the daily hustle of parenting, work, and a seemingly endless number of grocery store trips. I miss him in the same way one longs for lost treasures—those things we once took for granted, such as personal space, quiet moments, and uninterrupted sleep.
On our good days, we tackle the challenges of parenthood like a finely-tuned machine, effortlessly passing the kids between us as though they were batons in a relay race. It’s a beautiful choreography, one that took years to perfect, but it remains fragile; the slightest disturbance could send us tumbling into a mess of chaotic children at our feet. And still, despite this intricate dance, I can’t help but miss him.
I miss how, during our early days together, he would look at me with a tenderness that made me feel delicate and cherished. It was the first time I had seen myself as anything other than tough and somewhat broken. I miss those evenings spent across from each other in a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, where we could converse for hours about everything and nothing. It felt as if time had paused, and the world around us faded away, leaving just the two of us, a flickering candle, and a modest bottle of wine.
I miss the carefree discussions we had about how we would spend our time, filled with dreams and a sense of invincibility, as if we could mold the future into whatever we desired.
Fast forward to today—now he looks at our children with the same awe he once had for me. We lay together on our bed, a child or two nestled between us, feeling like our universe has expanded to comfortably accommodate our now larger family. We no longer fret as much over what’s to come; our focus is drawn to the miraculous moments unfolding right in front of us, making it difficult to remember to dream about the future.
So yes, I miss my husband, much like I miss my youth or my pre-baby body, with a sense of fondness and nostalgia. The man I married was remarkable, without a doubt. Yet, in many ways, the man he has become is even more extraordinary.
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In summary, while the essence of my husband remains, I often long for the nuances of our early relationship. Yet, in the chaos of family life, I have come to appreciate the evolution of our bond.