To Tattoo or Not To

A little over 2 years ago my hubby moved to South Dakota to start med school. He was leaving behind three kids and a wife who suddenly became a single parent. We had to make it 14 months. Do you know how long 14 months is, when you are counting weeks, days, minutes, sometimes seconds?!?!

Well, those 14 months ended 12 months ago!! Seriously? He's been home now for EXACTLY 1 year today! It's hard to think how quickly those months passed! And now he's only got 2 more months before he graduates!! Man how time flies!

When I look back on that time, I definitely hit rock bottom! I have to say I went through the stages of losing a loved one. My husband left me, and although I knew why, there were still thoughts racing in my mind that were negative. At first I was in denial that it was going to be hard. I am a very strong person and knew that I could do this parenting thing on my own. And it was such a short time. And to make it easier, I compared it to people whose spouses were overseas fighting in a war! At least I could talk to my husband every day; multiple times every day. And we still got to see him almost every weekend.

Then after a couple months it hit me. The pain of not having my best friend with me at the end of challenging days. Not having my best friend there to listen to me vent (although I'm sure he would say he did plenty of that, just had a sore elbow at the end!). Not having my husband there to hold me at night. This was hard. It was during this time that I remember having my second breakdown ever. This was not a good time for me.

Shortly after the pain came the anger. How could he just up and leave all of us here? Sure it was going to be better in the end. But what about right now? I felt alone. I was home with 3 kids. He was out by himself, probably like the good old days of being single. He could go out with his classmates whenever he wanted. He could go for a run or bike ride without wondering which kid had sports that night and at what time. He could come home late at night after going out to the bar and not have to worry about taking the babysitter home. Hell, he could do whatever he wanted and not have a worry about him. I was angry with my husband for leaving me.

I bargained with him. I'll do whatever it takes for him to let us move out there. Sure he was only going to be out there for 14 months. And at this point it was probably down to only 11. But I didn't care. I would find someone to come rent the house. (Which I pretty much did, but as God would have it, it didn't work out!) I would homeschool the kids. I would stay in another apartment. I knew he would have a lot of studying to do, and I wanted to respect that. But I wanted to be where he was, for so many reasons.

Then I went ever farther in my black hole. Especially when I knew we weren't going to be going out there with him. My depression came back much like I experienced it with my postpartum depression. I felt alone, like my husband didn't want to be with me. That maybe he's doing this because he didn't love me. He was going to school 4 hours away with lots of other women. I thought for sure he was going to hook up with at least one of them. I mean, why not? He knew I wouldn't find out. I was 4 hours away. It's not like he couldn't take her back to his apartment. I kept falling. The devil was putting thoughts into my mind that I felt I could not control. And the more people tried helping me, the deeper I went. I wondered what I did wrong that my husband had to move for school and didn't want to take us with him. (I now know, with a clearer mind, that none of these thoughts were true!)

It wasn't until about 7 months after he left that I finally knew I was going to be ok. I knew that our marriage was going to make it through this. And I know why. I prayed so much to God. But God didn't answer my prayers. I prayed that He would allow us to move to SD. It wasn't until I started praying what God wanted me to pray that He began to answer my prayers. I asked for God to give me strength. I asked that God would give me the strength to be the kind of mom that my kids deserved. I asked God to give me the strength to be the kind of supportive wife that my husband needed while he was and had to be away from his family. I asked God to give me the strength to endure what His plans were for me and for our family. God answered those prayers!

When I look at where we are today, 26 months into my husband's schooling, and with only 2 1/2 more months to go, I am surprised at how quickly that time went. And I am so grateful to the good Lord who gave all 5 of us (my Peanut doesn't count in this yet) the strength to make it through this chapter in our lives. My favorite Bible verse, one that I repeat over and over to myself daily, probably for the last year and a half, if this:

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Phil. 4:13

So this is something I've thought about having tattooed. I know I don't NEED it tattooed in order for it to be something stamped in my head. I already say it to myself every day. But I've thought about it for some time now, have come up with a design that I think is very fitting for me and my journey, and this is something that I think I want, the more I think about it. But I'm wondering where. And more so, how much does it hurt? (I'll have to just keep thinking it can't be as bad as having a baby, and I've done that 4 times now!)

At this point only time will tell; to tattoo or not to.