A relationship will endure a million challenges throughout a lifetime. Each person is subject to the development and change their partner goes through, to personal growth or the stubborn refusal of it. Work, health, finances are just some of the myriad ways a couple can be tested.
When a family begins, the most profound changes will shake the firmest of foundations. Hearts are filled to bursting, predominantly with overwhelming love and wide-eyed wonder but also with fear and self-doubt. Everything must be renegotiated when a newborn baby arrives and the relationship you enjoyed prior to children will never – never – be the same.
Bren and I are seasoned survivors now. Twelve years together and nearly five of them with children, we have endured the roller-coaster thus far.
I know I can count on him to be holding my hand at all times.
But sometimes I become aware that the touch is tenuous, the barest brushing of fingers tips keeping us connected. And then sometimes, the contact is completely broken.
We are drifting free of eachother.
It is then that I put my faith in those gossamer-fine spiderwebs floating between us. We cannot see them, we don't feel them. By definition, they are fragile, so easily brushed aside but surprisingly, they are strong, fortified with our shared history, the life we have made, that we awake to each day and attempt to keep making with some semblance of kindness and grace. And laughter. Always with laughter.
These are the webs that speak of our love, the battles and the balancing act and now, nourished with the blood of our growing family. Daily, the sweet, expectant faces of our children serve to remind us of the importance of our bond.
But no spiderweb is infallible. Carelessness will see you stumble right through them.
These webs may not hold forever.
It is imperative to reclaim the security of his hand in mine, solid and warm. And so always, I am reaching out and so is he.