But my husband IS NOT his addiction.
I could understand leaving him if he was his addiction -if his addiction defined him.
But last night:
I spent hours doing family history research, looking for a name for this sweet baby coming into our lives, and in the middle of reading about my greatgreatgreatgreat grandmother's alcoholic and abusive father (who beat her so hard she had scars for the rest of her life)... my husband pulled me up from the computer.
He walked me into our bedroom and bathroom where he'd ran a hot bubble bath for me.
There were candles and my favorite pandora station playing softly.
I soaked and soaked and soaked -the water was boil-a-lobster, just the way I like it. My body aches ALL over, and the hot water felt so good on my tired muscles.
After my bath was over, my husband wrapped me in hot towels (he'd put them in the dryer).
Then he gave me a massage, keeping me wrapped in hot towels the entire time.
And then he gave me a Priesthood Blessing.
I've been so stressed, so so so stressed about labor and delivery. I'm worried about the baby and I'm worried about recovery (post-partum) and I'm worried, SO WORRIED and it's interfering with my balance.
His blessing was a balm -He blessed me with peace and calm, blessed me to know what was best for my body, blessed me to know the difference between false concerns and real concerns.
It ended with, "Know that He loves you very much."
I do know that He loves me, but what a world of good it did to HEAR it!
I slept better last night than I have in a long time. I woke up, ate a few cookies and put the kids in front of the TV.
I'm 36 weeks and 1 day. I was exactly this far along when I gave birth to my son.
I'm really, really tired.
I wanted something for breakfast -something filling and wonderful and healthy, but I didn't have the energy to make anything. So I ate some cookies instead.
Then there was a knock on the door. My friend from down the street brought me a warm quiche and took my daughter with her.
"I'll get her off to school," she said.
I DO know that my Father in Heaven loves me. He sends me quiches and babysitters and massages... He can read my mind, my thoughts, and hear my every prayer.
"Please give my husband some degree of empathy," I prayed one night last week, "I don't expect him to understand what I'm going through, but this is so hard. Please. Help."
And the Lord sent me a huge dose of Recovery Husband and topped it off with warm breakfast quiche.
My husband really IS like that. He's thoughtful and aware.
"Why did you do all of this?" I asked him last night after thanking him profusely.
"Because you're carrying a baby," he said.
My prayer was one of gratitude last night.
Thank you for sending me Recovery Husband. Thank you for reminding me why I stick this out.
Thank you hearing me.
Thank you for loving me.