I have to admit, I got a little... moody... on valentine's day. And while I'm admitting things I should admit that it hasn't been only on valentine's day. Moody pretty much describes my general state of being nowadays. Happy one minute, bawling the next. I'm confident most of it is due to our circumstances but a wonderful friend reminded me that postpartum hormone changes probably have something to do with it, as well. Which made me feel better and less like I'm losing my mind.

Needless to say, it hasn't been a picnic in our home the last few weeks and I wanted to do something special for Daryl.

Now, we're not celebration people. We don't go crazy over birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries (I can hardly keep track of the date(s) we got married let alone started dating), or valentine's day. We're just lazy that way, I guess. Most gifts are bought in a panic the day before the scheduled event. But this year I got it in my head that I wanted Sunday night to be special. More than just the two of us sitting on the couch for the evening.

But I couldn't make it happen. My ideas didn't even get past the planning stage. When I confessed to Daryl my plans and how they weren't working out he said it was probably for the best, money's tight and after all, we don't really even celebrate valentine's day. Part of me was proud (he's come such a long way where money's concerned) but part of me was just disappointed. It wasn't about money, it was about making the night special and recognizing that it hasn't been easy and I appreciate his patience and understanding and support and him not even saying anything but just holding me sometimes and that being enough.

So out came the mood.

This is what my moods look like: I get very, very quiet.

I would say "that's all" but I think that sometimes silence can do more damage than an explosion of words.

Well, out comes Daryl's laptop. "I'm going to make you supper," he declares. And didn't he just whip up the best fondue I've ever tasted. He opened up the fondue set we got at our wedding but hadn't used yet. He thawed out chicken breast. He spent a half hour (literally) sawing at a roast that was frozen solid. He concocted dips and sauces. He researched what kind of oil works best in the fondue pot. He cooked up an amazing rice pilaf. And last but not least, he poured me a big glass of coca-cola over ice.

Now, I really do think the world of my husband. But all of this amazed me. I honestly didn't know he had it in him.

And to top it off, he didn't have to spend any money.

So we sat at the table, just the two of us, and cooked up our meat and ate until we were full to bursting. We talked and laughed and it felt like we were out on a date.

I couldn't help but think of when we first found out about the trisomy 18, on a date that *is* forever sliced into my memory - December 29, 2009, our first ultrasound. It was supposed to be such a wonderful day and ended up being the day our world crashed down around us. We got home from the midwife's and cried and cried. Our three person worldview suddenly had to fit back into a two person worldview again. Through the tears I remember saying to Daryl, "It's not so bad, is it? Just the two of us?"

And while we both wish with all our hearts that we could have celebrated the three of us, it really wasn't so bad just being the two of us again. There's no one with whom I'd rather be just two.