Why I love my hubby

There's a lot of baggage that comes with being infertile.

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One of the biggies is, of course, if your hubby has really good swimmers but your eggs are scrambled. Which basically means that, try as hard as you like (no pun intended! promise!), as often as you like, in whatever position you like, no amount of doing the deed will result in the much-hoped-for babe.

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You see, even when he's reassuring and comforting and all "lief, we're in this together, for better or worse", it's still really YOUR fault, not his, that your bloodline ends right here.

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And so you feel guilty.

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And like you've let him down.

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And eventually these feelings lead to thoughts that he would be so much better off with someone else. Someone with really good eggs (and nice-looking boobs too, while he's at it). And if you're like me, you start to sabotage things a bit, so that you're almost giving him a reason to want to dump you. See, you've already given up on yourself. Your whole being is so wrapped up in your inability to do something that comes oh-so-easily to everyone else. You've learnt to expect the worst from yourself. And because he chose you, is your partner in crime and all of that, you start expecting the worst from him too.

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It's almost as if you WANT him to punish you.

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And this is why I will love my hubby until my dying day.

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Because as much as I validate him feeling resentment towards me - he just refuses to behave that way. He just loves me. Every day. No matter how prickly I am. He just loves. Me! He smothers me with his acceptance. He loves ME! The Char he married. Even the Char I've become over the last six years. Heaven knows I've done nothing to deserve it. Quite the opposite.

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And that, my friends, is why I love my hubby.

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