The fact of the matter is - whether they want to admit it or not - the men in our lives hurt, too. They may not have physically gone through what the woman has... but that doesn't make the pain and hurt any less valid. It doesn't mean that on this day that we shouldn't exercise the same amount of respect for boundaries or care that we do on Mother's Day.
So, with that in mind, here is an open letter to my amazing husband, Branson, for Father's Day.
Dear Husba,
Happy Father's Day. Today is about you. To celebrate you and how amazing of a father you are to your daughter. I see how much she loves you. How you make her laugh. I see your caring heart and giving ways in her - those qualities were instilled by you. She loves you so much, and you have earned that love. I am so lucky to be with a man who is so loving, giving, yet sets the necessary boundaries to make sure she grows up to be the wonderful young woman we know she will be.
It's a little awkward for me to wish you a Happy Father's Day. In fact, it kind of hurts. Because I'm not the one who made you a father. I'm the woman who was lucky enough to be brought into your daughter's life and get to play a role in helping take care of her and raise her with you.
At the same time... you and I have embabies in heaven. Five little angels that God called home very, very early. I know you would have been just as amazing of a father to them as you are to your daughter. They would have been lucky to have you as a dad, and one day I know they'll be excited to meet you. For now, I know they're watching you with pride.
Thank you. Thank you for being my rock during the rough times. I know that you often felt completely left out of the process during our IVF cycles. I know you felt like a bystander - helpless when all you wanted to do was help. And you need to know that you just being by my side was exactly what I needed.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I often invalidated your feelings. This process wasn't just about me. It was about us. But, because it was my body, a lot of the focus fell on me when in reality, I should have been focusing on you, too. I'm sorry I didn't ask you more how you were doing. I'm sorry you felt like you had to hide your tears to protect me when you were dying on the inside just like I was.
Thank you for allowing yourself to be vulnerable at times. I know you didn't like it - that you preferred for me to think everything was fine. But I could see you hurting, and when you express to me when and how you hurt, it makes me feel closer to you and like together we can heal.
You were always there to remind me it's about us. That while you wanted a baby, me making you a father wasn't the reason you married me. I know I'm stubborn and my brain hasn't fully processed this, but I know that you feel and believe this with 110% of your being. I know you didn't marry me just so I could carry future children.
I am lucky. I am lucky to call you my husband. My best friend. An incredible father to a beautiful child. And who knows... maybe one day the father to a child of our own.
In the meantime, I promise to think about you more. To check in with you and ask you how you're feeling about our infertility journey. I know you're not going to come out and say how you feel, so I'm going to ask. And it's your job to answer, because I'm you're wife, and I'll ask you a million times if you don't answer. You've seen me do it. You know I will keep pestering you.
Oh, the animals are lucky to have you, too. Those 4-5am wake up calls to feed the cat I insisted on adopting while we were going through our October 2016 cycle. I blame the hormones running through my body.
I love you with all of my heart. Happy Father's Day, my love.
Love,
Kristy
