I have had eight surgeries in the 13 years that my husband and I have been together. I'm pretty sure that if he wanted to make a career change he would be more than qualified as a post-op nurse.
Most people think of Valentines and recall memories of first kisses or first dates. I think of baths. My fondest memory, and the one that truly makes my heart flutter is the memory of Travis giving me a sponge bath after the birth of our son via c-section.
Weird, I know, but stick with me- this is going somewhere.
I can vividly remember standing in the hospital bathroom, staring into the mirror and feeling the impact of two days of no bathing, post-partum bloating, incision site stretching across my belly, IV still in hand- and not feeling attractive in any way shape or form. Travis was kneeling down and oh so gently cleaning me with warm soapy water and telling me over and over again how beautiful I was, how much he loved me, how happy he was that we had a son. In that moment my heart could have burst from the love he showed me.
Somehow through each surgery that followed Travis would take on the task of bathing me when I could not do it for myself. Always talking to me in the same calm voice- reassuring me that it would all be okay. His words would be every bit as soothing as the warm water he poured over my body. He never let me feel embarrassed or that I was somehow a burden to him, and it has been in those baths that I have seen what kind of man I married. I still feel my heart stretch to it's limits when I think back on those times.
Bathing is such a simple daily thing, but to me it was flowers, chocolate and fancy cards all wrapped up in a white fluffy towel.
Happy Valentines Day.
