Tomorrow my husband enters his 40s. I have a full day of celebrating, months of planning in the making, lined up. I cannot wait to treat him, the one who is always busy doing for everyone else, with a day where everyone (well, at least me) is doing for him.
Over our years together my husband (then my boyfriend) made many references to how his father started his family in his 40s (and 11 children followed). I suppose I always internalized the message that that timeframe may well be what he had in mind as well.
And then IF happened; and despite our best efforts he now finds himself knocking at 40s door with the realization that conception may not be the angel answering it.
So as my husband turns 40 I am remembering that sometimes our best laid plans are the ones the angels smile and get a good chuckle over.
No doubt we will have our family, and no doubt now our child will come to us, however they arrive, when my husband is in his 40s.
You see life is full of curve balls. We can either throw our bat down, stick our bottom lip out in a pout, and go back to the sidelines–or we can swing for the bleachers hoping that when the moment is right our bat will connect perfectly with that curve ball and we’ll be rounding the bases for home.
Happy 40th to the love of my life. No matter how many curve balls are thrown our way the biggest blessing in my life is knowing that neither one of us will do an about face and head back to the dugout defeated. We’re both here until the last runner hits the home plate in the bottom of the ninth. We’re both here until the day we hold our son or daughter in our arms forever. I love you always.