Today is my third wedding anniversary. Before we had and lost Rip, I was terrified of being happy, or I guess I should say I was terrified of sounding too happy. I was so afraid that God would hear me and realize nothing bad had happened to me yet, and BOOM! happiness gone.
When I was pregnant, I never talked about how excited I was. I did not take fun pictures of myself, I treated the ultrasound pictures like they were expendable. I tried to stay on the down low, hiding out so that nothing bad would happen. But then the worst thing imaginable happened anyway.
Don't get me wrong, I know that what happened to Rip (although I may never understand it), did not happen because I was too happy or not happy enough. It just makes me sad that I was not swinging from the chandeliers, shouting about how excited I was for this baby, because that was how I really felt and I should have shared that feeling with the world.
That same goes for this anniversary. It has been my policy never to act too in love, to be wary of public declarations just in case it were to all go south. These past few weeks (months really), my husband has shown more strength of character than I could ever have imagined. He took care of me in the hospital, he took care of Rip when I could not after my surgery, and he has held me every night since Rip passed away. How could I not love this person? I should want everybody to know how good this man is.
I don't mean to sound like a cheesy "love/live life to the fullest" campaign, but I don't know how else to put it. Life is too short to be afraid. Terrible things happen, but I will try my hardest not to miss out on all of the good and exciting just so those terrible things won't know where I live. That just really isn't how life works.