How Having A Baby Completely Ruined My Idea Of Marriage
He used to look at me from across a crowded bar, club or party with eyes that subtlety hinted, “Let’s get out of here.” Now, he looks at me from across the house with eyes that scream, “You could probably use a goddamn shower and a glass of wine.”
For some odd reason, I thought our lives would be filled with the former kind of magic and the same spontaneous moments that filled our three-month courtship. (Yes, you read that right.)
Life before our baby was so full of “the magic." It was the moments that made me realize that the 29 or so years before this person came around were all worth it. (Yes, I'll repeat the obvious: We did only know one another for three months.)
I thought it would always be like that. I thought the romance would be pouring out of us with the same frequency that we downed Patron and danced all over each other in the seediest of bars in downtown Fort Lauderdale.
I thought, “I couldn’t love him more if I tried. Our marriage is going to be amazing.” Then, I got pregnant.
I’ll just tell you this: There is no harsher reality check than getting pregnant three months into your marriage (when you’ve only known each other a year or so at that point). I was a raging, hormonal psycho, and he was an intolerant guy.
Thirty-nine weeks later, we were parents. That's when my idea of marriage was ruined.
There were no more sexy looks, and there were very few compliments about my phenomenal ass I'd thought I’d hear forever.
All of a sudden, the compliments were replaced with, “You’re doing such a good job, babe. I’m so proud of you.”
There were no more late nights out, partying, hanging off of each other for balance purposes and sleeping off our hangovers together. There was no more asking, "Who's rushing out for Chick-fil-A breakfast?" before the breakfast menu closed.
There was no more heading out for the night at 11 pm. There were no more strip clubs. (Come on, I'm a mother now.)
All of a sudden, the nights became a balance of taking turns getting up to take care of the baby. You have no idea how much of a turn-on it becomes to hear the man you love offer you more sleep.
There were no more arguments over petty things. There were no more grudges held on to for days.
I was a big fan of this pre-baby. I thought my need for drama would keep the momentum going in my marriage.
All of a sudden, the arguments turned to long conversations. The long conversations turned to understanding, and the anger often subsided when we realized we had a little person watching us. There is no single woman on this planet who wants her child to go to school repeating the phrase, "Who the hell is this bitch?"
The two things that disappeared forever in our marriage (along with skinny-dipping and being skinny) were “his way" and “my way." We actually had to agree on sh*t. We had to come together for the better of our family.
We had to stop competing for the last word. We had to learn to give up, give in and get on with it. Why didn't they teach us this in our baby class?
There is only us — our way — for her and our family. That’s how my idea of marriage was ruined forever and thrown out the window like my daughter's teddy bear on I-95. Thanks, kid.