Ben was the ultimate husband during the labor process. He was at my side constantly, leaving only to fetch me ice chips. He rubbed my back, called our family and friends, and waited on me hand and foot. Every time I started going through a contraction, he would gently encourage me through it, watching the monitor and keeping me updated on the contraction's strength and duration.
I was very grateful for his love and attention. At the same time, I was fairly amused by his efforts to help.
Let's be honest: I didn't really need a play-by-play on how my contraction was going. I was feeling it firsthand, and I definitely could tell when it was building up, and when it was ending. And after my epidural I couldn't feel them at all - so why did it matter whether they were coming or going?
But I took his efforts for what they were: a desperate attempt by a loving husband to help his wife get through the labor process.
He knew that I was facing something difficult. I had already spent months dealing with this new creature as she grew inside of me. I had developed stretch marks, back pains, and cankles. I had gone through morning sickness, fatigue, moodiness, and huge physical changes. And now the grand finale was facing me. I was going to be pushing a (9 lbs 3 oz) human being out of my body.
And there was nothing he could really do to help.
So, he just did his best. And I love him for it.
But now, our roles are reversed. It's my turn to feel helpless as I watch my husband go through something difficult. Something that I can't really help him with.
He's coming home from his first deployment sometime in the next month or so. He has spent months away from us. He's had to learn new routines, adjust to different people, and face dangerous situations. He has probably changed quite a bit in his time away. Who knows what kinds of things he's had to deal with, being deployed? He's off fighting a war, and no one can say that military careers are easy. There's a reason why veterans are so honored. They go through a lot.
Coming home is going to be a huge adjustment for Ben. Even though he has a fairly "safe" job as a pilot, and doesn't really see any hand-to-hand combat in his line of work, there's a big difference between life on a deployment and life at home with your family. It's probably going to take him some time to get totally back to normal.
Just as he couldn't really relate to what I was dealing with when I was going through labor, I can't really relate to what he'll be going through when he gets home. I have no idea what life has really been like for him over these past months. My husband has always been fairly close-lipped. It's entirely possible that he's had experiences that he hasn't shared with me, either because he couldn't, or because he didn't want to worry me. It wouldn't be the first time a husband has waited until he was safely home to share certain stories with his wife. And knowing Ben, I might never hear all of his stories.
I don't mean to let my overactive imagination get away with me, though. That's just a worst-case scenario. Even if he had an incredibly mild experience, though, and had nothing dangerous or scary happen during his time in the Middle East, there will be an adjustment period when he gets home. And I'm not really sure what to do to help him get through it.
It's tough, feeling helpless. When you love somebody, you want to do everything in your power to help them. And sometimes that just isn't possible. Sometimes, you just have to keep loving them the best way you know how, and pray that it all comes together.
I'm lucky, though. My husband isn't on the front line of battle in Afghanistan. He isn't disarming bombs or driving tanks. He hasn't had to watch any of his friends die in front of him. He should come home relatively unscathed. The same can't be said for a lot of our brave men and women fighting in the Middle East.
I hope you'll keep our military in your prayers. Even if you disagree with the war they're fighting, you should respect the fact that they're willing to put their lives on the line to protect your freedoms. They fight to keep the rest of us safe. And many of them come home with physical and psychological scars. Their reintegration with their families may never be completely successful.
I'm excited beyond words to see my husband again. I love him more than anything, and I will stand by him no matter what. Hopefully he'll see my love for him in my weak efforts to help him reintegrate at home, just as I saw his love for me in his efforts to help me through labor. Hopefully my handsome pilot will come home with a sound body and mind. Hopefully reintegration is a breeze.
And hopefully you'll remember our brave servicemen and women in your prayers. They and their families deserve that, at the absolute least.
