Vomit, Marriage, and Love. And I Don't Want to Hear Anymore About 50 Shades of Grey.
Vomit. That's been the main event over the last week at our house. First it was Chris. The man got a pill stuck in his esophagus and couldn't swallow water without throwing it back up. To the ER we went. When we first got there, the doc said, "Take a drink of water." Chris gingerly sipped a little bit, sure of what would come next. The doc encouraged, "Oh come on, a big swig." The law of gravity states that what goes down must come up...or is it the other way around? Then it was Nora. At first it was just a little diarrhea, maybe a reaction to something she ate. Maybe too much fruit? Then the fever. Then a gut full of half digested rice all over Chris. And the bathroom. And in her hair. Vomit.
Marriage. Marriage is fluid, ever evolving and shifting, sometimes surprising you in unappreciated ways. Lately, Chris and I have hit a few bumps in the road relationally speaking. Nothing happened. No one said anything hurtful. No body did anything specifically. Ever so slightly I noticed a shift, a morphing of sorts. All of sudden I felt like there was a weird, unidentifiable wedge between us. How did it get there? When did it get there? I examined it by myself for a few days, and then I brought it up for discussion. More than once. Chris agreed that something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on the culprit either. Vomit.
A dear friend, unknowing of the above information, sent me a link to a blog that talked about vomit. The blogger shared how she and her husband thought they were the exception. They would always be sexy. They would never drive a mini van. They would always be in love. And then the babies started throwing up in their bed, and reality went spraying itself all over her pajamas. It was the first time I heard someone say that sometimes our love shifts, that sometimes it looks different than it was before. I felt relieved. Writing not only liberates the author, but also has the power to free the reader, because in reading another person's heart, one can realize she is not alone. Knowing you're not alone makes you're craziness seem less crazy. What I had been feeling, still am feeling, is a shift in my marriage. Life doesn't revolve around sleeping in on Saturdays and late night drives with the windows down and music cranked up anymore. It doesn't revolve around spending our money how we want to because I like those pair of jeans, and he likes that shirt. We're up early on Saturdays, and if we're still in bed by 8:30 it's because there's an extra body, paci, and blanket in there with us. And if we get a tax return this year it's going towards student loans. Life is different. And not just because of Nora or debt. Sometimes when we grow up, life simply adjusts, and with it our focus, priorities, and love too.
I think I've been grieving that shift, that subtle yet noticeable tilt that didn't knock me to the floor but caused me to reposition my feet. When these shifts happen in my marriage my initial reaction is panic (because what helps a marriage more than panic, right?). A thousand doubts and fears fly through my mind. Am I headed for divorce? Am I the only one feeling like my marriage is unstable? I feel myself bracing for the worst. All because of a shift. Once the panic subsides, I begin to brainstorm solutions for the problem. What can we do to make this better? More sex? More focused, purposeful conversations? Let's get pregnant! Let's volunteer together! Another household project? After I calm down long enough to take a nap from making myself so tired by trying to fix something that might not be broken, I wait. I try to calm my brain and let peace wash over me.
And then movie trailers for 50 Shades of Grey started popping up. I won't lie. I thought about going to see it with Chris. Maybe it'd be the spark that we needed to reconnect, focus on each other, ignite our passion. Bring our sexy back! That lasted for about 5 seconds until my Facebook account blew up with a million (yes, literally a million) blog posts, articles, and annoyingly over opinionated people explaining why no one should ever think about seeing the movie. And if you do think about it (even for 5 seconds), you should cut your own heart out as well as your eyes. But I digress.
Love doesn't center around a good feeling, and it certainly doesn't center around a hot and heavy sex life. In love there are shifts. Some days it feels so good to be in love; endorphins are high, words are like magic, and the collide is exhilarating. And some days it means rinsing vomit out of a basin in the ER because a doctor keeps making your lover drink water that he can't swallow. Love isn't impressive when it feels intoxicating. Love is impressive when the putrid smell of vomit wafts into your face, and the only thing you think of is how lucky you are to be rinsing out his barf bowl (no sarcasm intended).
In all marriages, at every stage along the way, there will be shifts. Real love hovers around a commitment to love someone else more than yourself. It hovers around putting someone else's needs before your own. It hovers around sacrifice, and kindness, and forgiveness. It's not always sexy, and it's not always fun, and we all know it doesn't always feel good. But it's the most real, most beautiful, and most foundational thing. How quickly my eyes are drawn to the shiny deceits of this world, but somehow I'm appreciative of shifts I can't control and the vomit that seems to be freely flowing at our house.
Marriage. Marriage is fluid, ever evolving and shifting, sometimes surprising you in unappreciated ways. Lately, Chris and I have hit a few bumps in the road relationally speaking. Nothing happened. No one said anything hurtful. No body did anything specifically. Ever so slightly I noticed a shift, a morphing of sorts. All of sudden I felt like there was a weird, unidentifiable wedge between us. How did it get there? When did it get there? I examined it by myself for a few days, and then I brought it up for discussion. More than once. Chris agreed that something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on the culprit either. Vomit.
A dear friend, unknowing of the above information, sent me a link to a blog that talked about vomit. The blogger shared how she and her husband thought they were the exception. They would always be sexy. They would never drive a mini van. They would always be in love. And then the babies started throwing up in their bed, and reality went spraying itself all over her pajamas. It was the first time I heard someone say that sometimes our love shifts, that sometimes it looks different than it was before. I felt relieved. Writing not only liberates the author, but also has the power to free the reader, because in reading another person's heart, one can realize she is not alone. Knowing you're not alone makes you're craziness seem less crazy. What I had been feeling, still am feeling, is a shift in my marriage. Life doesn't revolve around sleeping in on Saturdays and late night drives with the windows down and music cranked up anymore. It doesn't revolve around spending our money how we want to because I like those pair of jeans, and he likes that shirt. We're up early on Saturdays, and if we're still in bed by 8:30 it's because there's an extra body, paci, and blanket in there with us. And if we get a tax return this year it's going towards student loans. Life is different. And not just because of Nora or debt. Sometimes when we grow up, life simply adjusts, and with it our focus, priorities, and love too.
I think I've been grieving that shift, that subtle yet noticeable tilt that didn't knock me to the floor but caused me to reposition my feet. When these shifts happen in my marriage my initial reaction is panic (because what helps a marriage more than panic, right?). A thousand doubts and fears fly through my mind. Am I headed for divorce? Am I the only one feeling like my marriage is unstable? I feel myself bracing for the worst. All because of a shift. Once the panic subsides, I begin to brainstorm solutions for the problem. What can we do to make this better? More sex? More focused, purposeful conversations? Let's get pregnant! Let's volunteer together! Another household project? After I calm down long enough to take a nap from making myself so tired by trying to fix something that might not be broken, I wait. I try to calm my brain and let peace wash over me.
And then movie trailers for 50 Shades of Grey started popping up. I won't lie. I thought about going to see it with Chris. Maybe it'd be the spark that we needed to reconnect, focus on each other, ignite our passion. Bring our sexy back! That lasted for about 5 seconds until my Facebook account blew up with a million (yes, literally a million) blog posts, articles, and annoyingly over opinionated people explaining why no one should ever think about seeing the movie. And if you do think about it (even for 5 seconds), you should cut your own heart out as well as your eyes. But I digress.
Love doesn't center around a good feeling, and it certainly doesn't center around a hot and heavy sex life. In love there are shifts. Some days it feels so good to be in love; endorphins are high, words are like magic, and the collide is exhilarating. And some days it means rinsing vomit out of a basin in the ER because a doctor keeps making your lover drink water that he can't swallow. Love isn't impressive when it feels intoxicating. Love is impressive when the putrid smell of vomit wafts into your face, and the only thing you think of is how lucky you are to be rinsing out his barf bowl (no sarcasm intended).
In all marriages, at every stage along the way, there will be shifts. Real love hovers around a commitment to love someone else more than yourself. It hovers around putting someone else's needs before your own. It hovers around sacrifice, and kindness, and forgiveness. It's not always sexy, and it's not always fun, and we all know it doesn't always feel good. But it's the most real, most beautiful, and most foundational thing. How quickly my eyes are drawn to the shiny deceits of this world, but somehow I'm appreciative of shifts I can't control and the vomit that seems to be freely flowing at our house.
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| Our squirmy girl who makes taking any picture of her quite challenging these days. |
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