Mesh Underwear and Dirty Diapers

My husband has never been one for grand romantic gestures. I'm pretty sure he didn't buy me flowers until five years into marriage, and even then, I think I had to specifically tell him to do so explicitly. I used to get jealous of women whose Prince Charmings scattered rose petals all over their houses and drew candlelit bubble baths for them.

Now? I don't give a rat's fart about flowers, bubbles, or candles.

Want to know what's romantic?

A husband who rubbed my sore, aching back every night during the third trimester of pregnancy. Even after he had worked a 12-hour shift. Without complaining.

A husband who rubbed my back during labor, sprayed me with hot water during contractions to help relieve the pain, held up my Harry Potter Tervis cup between contractions so I could stay hydrated, and held up my leg as I pushed and pushed and pushed with all my body weight to bring our daughter into the world.

A husband who held the barf bag while I bounced on a  birthing ball during labor and had contractions and vomited.

A husband who waited to eat his own dinner and fed my dinner to me in the hospital (and after) because I was CONSTANTLY nursing our baby girl. He only made airplane noises one time...

A husband who helped me pull up my totally unsexy mesh underwear after my first shower so I wouldn't rip my stitches

A husband who changed almost every diaper in the hospital.

And perhaps most romantic of all, a husband who said "I'll take her for the night. You go get some sleep." Literally the most beautiful words I've ever heard uttered from his lips.

It's incredible how our definition of "love" keeps growing and expanding. When we first started dating, it was long distance because he was off at college. I was 17 and in high school. So "love" was trusting each other, late night AIM conversations, and holding hands at church. Then it was saying "I do" and me giving him time to play computer games and him understanding my Starbucks addiction and us holding each other crying after the loss of a grandparent or a child.

And now, he has seen me at my absolute most vulnerable. There is something so raw and primal about childbirth (or at least there was for me), and that's just the beginning of the painful vulnerability. The early newborn days brought out the worst in me. I basically went three days in a row with no sleep. As I've share before, breastfeeding was incredibly painful. And, of course, my hormones were wackadoodle.

But this incredible man has loved me and our daughter with a tender, steadfast love. It's overwhelming. He is the perfect example of what Christ's love looks like in a marriage. He is the perfect example of what a respectful man looks like in a  relationship, and he is going to show our daughter how a woman should be treated.

Now...if only he didn't like the Redskins...