In Sickness & In Health

Barry and me at Jackson Lake in 2012.  Michelle just turned 3.
This was the first trip we took alone together after her birth.

The power of partnership is using your differences to your advantage. When people fall in love, there is an element of projection they place on each other. We seek sameness to fulfill the fantasy of romantic love. Over the past 9 1/2 years, Barry and I have become more aware of how different we truly are. Learning to appreciate those differences as our romantic projections dissolve is the challenge of every marriage.

     When a disruptive event occurs in a marriage, we have two choices: adapt or deny. Denial is the monster that keeps us holding on to the illusion. Even with the best efforts, old patterns are extremely sticky and difficult to vanquish, even when those patterns disrupt the family system.  It often takes a disruptive event as the catalyst to change those dysfunctional patterns. If we let it, the event can be a powerful opportunity to adapt to a healthier state of normal. My therapist told me once that it takes 30 days for change to solidify into habit. Today marks four weeks since the injury and I am finally beginning to see a positive difference.

     Aside my injury which was spontaneous and unplanned, over past year and half we had two other planned life-events that are known to be on the top of the list for "most stressful": we bought a house, and had a baby. I'll be totally honest that the past year and half has without a doubt created a significant amount of marital discord. Though my postpartum depression lifted after resuming my anti-depressant medication, I watched moodiness and negativity take over Barry in a way that felt impossible to break through. 

    Then the injury happened, suddenly the man who was already the main bread-winner and family chef found his responsibilities double. The first couple of weeks were a challenge.  He is an introvert and prefers to keep emotional discourse to a minimum, but his non-verbal language was abundantly clear: "This sucks for me. My life just got that much harder. Kelly is why my life got so much harder." Physically he was picking up the slack by taking care of the baby, taking Michelle to school, and cleaning up where I couldn't. But emotionally, he struggled. He would ask me to do things he knew I wan't capable of and fall into a slump when I couldn't or wouldn't do it.  

    I noticed the change about a week ago. Barry's head began to lift above the fog of denial and begin the process of emotional adaptation and acceptance. Instead of coffee in the morning, he was juicing.  Instead of pouring a cocktail when he got home from work, he prioritized exercise. He stopped falling asleep in front of the TV at night and started reading until he felt drowsy. Over the past few days, I have finally seen the resentment melt away. He is falling asleep in our bed instead of the couch. He is patient, interactive, and proactive, facilitating opportunities for me to bond with the girls. His parenting with Michelle is more effective. And this morning, he was downright cheery! With his wife disabled, the strength required of him has left no room for unhealthy choices or habitual resentment. Silver linings everywhere.