Sharing

I had Bible study last night. We always end up talking about the most odd and yet fascinating topics. We gather over our cups or coffee or tea or whathaveyou and make small talk about what our kids are doing most recently. My mom once told me that when women gather, they always end up talking about pregnancy and childbirth. And while my mom is right, we do talk about that frequently, we also share other fascinating stories and experiences.

As we sat there talking I shared with them that Hubby is going to be going on a work trip in mid-March for a whole week. And how terrified I am for that week. Because I am, absolutely terrified.

My Hubby is an amazing father. I have relied on him quite heavily over these last 15 months. We have quite a cooperative effort when it comes to raising Reagan. Each day, he helps me get her breakfast ready as I get her out of bed. And when he comes home at night, he immediately picks up the little blondie standing at his feet with her arms stretched high above her head. From there on out, its almost exclusively Daddy-time. He feeds her supper. He cleans her up after supper. He takes her into her room and plays with her for the rest of the evening. He gives her all her baths. He puts her pajamas on. And then we tuck her into bed together. If she wakes up in the night, he gets up to check on her and tend to her most of the time.

So the thought of him being gone sorta gives me heart palpitations. I don’t quite know how I am going to make it through an entire week by myself. Even if everything is fine - no car troubles, no home fix-it emergencies, no health problems, I still don’t know how I will manage to stay sane while he is gone.

And it makes me realize just how much I need him. I need him there in the morning to make sure Reagan and I are both okay and that we both have whatever we need for the day. I need him to make sure the doors are locked at night. I need him to make sure the car has enough gas (I haven’t filled a gas tank since we got married). I need him to sit on the couch with me and watch CSI while Reagan sleeps soundly in her room. I just flat out need him. And I don’t want him to go.

My girlfriends understood this. They even offered their husbands as a substitute in case of a home fix-it emergency. And I know if I’m bored out of my mind at night that I can call them and they’ll make me feel better.

And even though I’m still really scared, I feel better just knowing that they know I’m terrified. Not a single one of them uttered the words “It will be okay.” And because they didn’t, I know it will be.