All of Me.

Do you ever get that feeling when you look at something really simple, but it gives you a huge wave of emotion that almost seems kind of silly?

I got that today as I sat and looked over my family pictures for the ten thousandth time.
(Katie Siebert Photography. LIKE HER PAGE)

I’m really lucky.
Like, really, really lucky.
I’m the exception.

If you don’t know my story, it’s cliche.
Pastor’s daughter gets knocked up in college, drops out and has a shot gun wedding before the baby is born and predispositioned to live a life of misery, poverty and have a life full of ugliness and stereotypes.
I’m not making up that this is how it sounds, because I’ve actually had people tell me that what I just wrote is EXACTLY what they think of us.

But here’s the kicker; that’s not our story.

Yes, it was just about this time, 4 years ago that I found out I was pregnant.
A sophomore in college.
FINALLY officially dating the guy I had had a crush on since I was a junior in high school (He was a senior and way too cool to date me) for about a year at that point. (I’ll be quick to tell you I considered us dating in high school, because we basically were. I made out with his face a lot. But that’s neither here nor there….)
Anyway, so I was a sophomore.
And now pregnant.
We had started talking about marriage probably a few weeks into dating a year prior.
In fact, I told Big S I loved him 9 days after we started dating.
It was embarrassing how quickly I clung to him.
We talked about kids.
Having a husky dog.
And moving to Florida.
These were our plans.
AFTER college.
But things don’t always go according to plan.
We decided quickly to speed the plans up.
We would get married and raise a baby way ahead of schedule and do it together with no doubt if either of us were committed.
We got engaged.
“Oh how exciting! When is the wedding?!”
In two months.
“Oh…..OOOOHHHH,” and the wheels started churning in people’s heads as they quickly counted to 9 and stared at my belly.

I know things we did were backwards.
And I’m not saying it was right by any means.
But this:

Is not wrong.

My husband is a fantastic father.
He stepped up when almost every other guy on the planet would have run away.
He got a job.
He provides for our family.
He adores our children, like, it’s the most attractive thing about him how much he loves our babies.
And he loves me unconditionally (I mean, seriously, did you see how huge I got when I was pregnant with Little S?!).

I know pictures can be deceiving, and no, it’s not always perfection.
We fight about stupid things.
I get mad when he doesn’t help do the dishes.
And he get’s mad I keep making all his favorite fattening foods out of tofu and birdseed.
But it works in ways that no one else would understand but us.
And these pictures are the most accurate depiction of Big S when it comes to family time.

We should have broken long ago.
But here we are.
Still quoting cheesy song lyrics at each other and him letting me steal his favorite sweatshirts.
Nightly back rubs and looking deep into each others eyes and saying weird compliments (Babe, the whites of your eyes are truly incredible).

So yes, we’re cliche.
Our family came before it’s time.
It’s messy.
It’s difficult for people to take us seriously.
But it’s everything we always wanted.
Things sped up and got really scary.
Things feel out of control with Rae’s medical issues and Little S being a crazy 3 year old.
But thank God Big S was there to catch me every time I needed him.


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