9 years

Today, Chris and I have been together for 3,287 days!  Or 9 years, if you prefer.

On this evening, in 2004 he came over to my flat to teach me SPSS (that's statistical analysis software by the way, not an abbreviation for something kinky) and the rest, as they say is history.

A lot of stuff can happen to a person in 9 years, and it turns out, even more stuff can happen to two people. We've lost, and gained family members, we've started and finished university courses, left jobs, got new ones, left those and got new ones again, we've moved house about a trillion times (ok, four and counting), we've made new friends, found new interests, become part of each others' families and even started our own...

First with this furry little monster in 2005:

Then this crazy mutt in 2006:

Then this gorgeous little guy in 2009:

And then this awesome little dude in 2011:

We've had good times and bad. It hasn't all been like a breakfast cereal commercial, or a hallmark card, hell- we don't even celebrate Valentines Day.

Right now we have an entire house to pack into boxes and he's sipping tea and sorting through old bank statements, periodically declaring "Ah, those were the days".  So it's safe to say he has the uncanny ability to irritate the hell out of me ;)

But even in our crappiest times, and life really has thrown some shit at us, I've always felt that being together made it that bit less crappy.  I've never once doubted that being with Chris makes my life better.  Having him makes the good stuff even more awesome, and the bad stuff just that little bit more bearable.

If you find someone who will love you for who you are, who will kiss you for hours, who will dance with you even though they "DO NOT DANCE", who will secretly have a custom Hello Kitty cake covered in glitter, made for your 21st birthday because they know how giddy it will make you, who will introduce you to their entire family just 3 months after you meet, because their Nan has passed away and they want you to be at her funeral, who will encourage you to quit something that is making you miserable and who will share your hopes and dreams for the future, then you should probably hang on to that person.

Later down the line they will be the person who will celebrate your first job with you, even when they're struggling to find one of their own, who be with you throughout 2 labours, without even once slipping into that demented cheerleader role: "Push, push PUUUUUUSH!" Who will lift you off the toilet when you inexplicably find yourself stranded there, and stay with you at the hospital whilst you're admitted for a rare autoimmune condition, and who will hold your hand whilst you sit in a hospital room waiting for your third miscarriage to begin.  All the while finding ways to make you laugh, and to know that you're loved.

There are probably not that many men in the world who will give you everything you need. I don't mean everything you want, that would be a disaster. God forbid. I mean, someone who knows you as well as you know yourself, and uses that to your advantage, rather than their own.  In 9 years Chris has promised me nothing and given me everything. For that, and for every one of the last 3,287 days I am eternally grateful.

Aww, back when we both had long hair.

Then Chris had long hair but I had all mine cut off!

Both with short hair and look- we have a baby!

2 babies!

Celebrating our fabulousness with champagne. (Actually we were celebrating Chris's 30th)

A bottle of champagne and a few other drinks later...

Happy Anniversary Chris xxxx

Belief

Things In Which I Don't Believe

Santa

I am Santa. Which is almost as much fun as believing in him so don't feel too bad for me on this one.

Karma

Every day I see bad shit happening to good people and wankers walking around without a care in the world. Either my understanding of karma is flawed or the concept itself is a load of bollocks.

Angels

As a nurse I've had a lot of people tell me I'm an "angel". Clearly none of them have seen me just after being undertaken by an absolute tool in a BMW on the motorway.

Things In Which I Do Believe

Love

Inconvenient, mind-blowing, illogical, life-affirming, glorious, love.

Miracles

Less of the "water into wine" variety and more of the "this is so incredible I can't believe it could be real" variety. Like the 2 little humans walking around today who started out as a chemical reaction in one of my fallopian tubes, for example.

Manners

I don't care how busy you are, how important you think you are, or what other shit you have going on in your life, it costs nothing to say "please" and "thank you".

Snacking

Whoever decided we should stuff our faces 3 times a day at set intervals was a moron. I'm a big believer in grazing. And cake.

Gravity

You can't argue with it.

Modern Medicine

Enough said.

Love Mug

I know what you're thinking: She's going to tell us she loves coffee.  Well, don't we all.  After all, coffee is one of the ultimate parenting tools.  Oh no wait, she's British, so she's probably going to tell us she loves tea.  I do indeed love tea. And coffee for that matter, as much as that makes me a traitor of sorts ("Off with her head!")

But that's not what I want to talk about.  This post is about the actual hot drinks receptacle itself, that is to say, my love mug.

To explain, I have to take you back to Valentines Day 2009. On that day, I woke up to discover, with absolute certainty, that I was miscarrying my first pregnancy. A lot has happened in the four years since, but if I close my eyes I can remember with un-nerving clarity how I felt that day. It was an early miscarriage, we'd only known I was pregnant at all for a matter of days so primarily I was in shock.  I'd barely begun to get my head around the fact I was pregnant, and then I wasn't anymore.

That possibly should have made it easier and of course physically it was a million times easier than what some mamas must endure when their pregnancy progresses further before coming to a tragic end. But psychologically I was a wreck.  Emotionally I was devastated. No stranger to being let down by others, I am well versed in dealing with disappointment, but to be let down by my own body? It was the ultimate betrayal.

There was very little Chris could say or do to make me feel better.  There was very little anyone could say or do to make me feel better.  Their platitudes "It obviously wasn't meant to be", "There was probably something wrong with the baby", "There'll be a next time" were like the cold-water I kept splashing on my face in between crying fits, trying to orient me to logic, to statistics, to bring me back to reality, but like the water, they failed miserably.

We had never made a big deal of Valentines Day.  We celebrated our own anniversary, a date that was special to us and only us (and, alright, the probably millions of other couples who got together that day) but Valentines Day seemed like someone else's celebration.  A fortunate happenstance given the timing of the miscarriage, although despite our lukewarm feelings on the occasion, it did feel somewhat poignant to be spending the day in bed crying and bleeding.

But when Chris went to our local shop to pick up supplies (chocolate, paracetamol, more chocolate) he brought me back this mug.  It has "Valentines Day" written all over it.  Well, actually they're little pink and red hearts, but I'm sure you see what I'm saying.  I began using it immediately.  We have a bit of a problem with mugs.  Like so many addicts before us, we can always find some way to justify "Just one more" and consequently have not one, but two cupboards full of them.  I have nicer mugs than this one, bigger mugs, posher and pricier mugs.  But this is the single most beautiful and special mug I own.

The hardest thing about days like my 14th February 2009 is that awful, terrifying, hollowing feeling that nothing will ever be okay again.  Well I'm here to tell you that it will.  I'm not saying it's alright.  No matter what comes next, you will always have that experience, those memories.  That terrible thing, whatever it was, will always have really happened, and happened to you. But there are very few instances in life when things are unsalvageable, where a situation, or a person, is broken beyond repair.

So when other people see me drinking from this mug, they might think "She loves coffee" or "She loves tea" or "That is one tacky Valentines mug" but when I see this mug I see Love. When I drink from it I know that with love, anything is possible.

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