The Survival Years

‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” - Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights.

This quote sums up the relationship I have with my husband, Brent. And yet, there was a time when we didn’t know if we would make it. 

Within a few months of dating I knew we were going to be together forever.  We had a deep love for one another and a romance that I had always hoped to find.  

We honeymooned in France and daydreamed about future romantic getaways around the world, galavanting together, immersed in one another.  We also couldn’t wait to start a family.  I had always dreamed of being a mother and couldn’t wait to see Brent father our children.

Our wish of growing ar family came quickly.  A short six months after getting married, I was pregnant with our oldest son.  We were overjoyed to become parents. I was told I may not be able to get pregnant so this was a true blessing.  

Even though we were ecstatic to become parents, I have to admit, we were a little bummed to postpone our trip to Italy we were planning.  Surely, Italy could wait a year or two!

Fast forward to the birth of my son (let’s call him W). The first night we brought him home, he slept a total of 45 minutes. The nights following weren’t much better.  Our son fought sleep like the plague. 

“W” was exclusively breast fed and had acid reflux which caused him to spit up most of his meal leaving him hungry and wanting to constantly eat. He would eat every 45 minutes. My body was no longer my own, it was given to my son to help keep him healthy and happy. 

 At this time, I also owned my own business that operated 7 days a week while still caring for my son full time.  My husband was busy with his high demanding sales career and trying to navigate our new family dynamic on minimal sleep.  

As “W” grew, he wasn’t hitting developmental milestones, he was having massive meltdowns and unable to communicate his needs to us.  “W” was a flight risk, he would run any chance he got.  We had to always be “on” to keep him safe, understand his needs and navigate how to take care of him.  “W” was finally diagnosed with autism, (after years of raising concerns to doctors) a couple of months before his 3rd birthday.  

Then came therapies, special schools, hours of researching all while running on fumes from years of not sleeping. “W” would never just sit, he was constantly on the move and engaging in dangerous behaviors.

I forgot to add, his sister was born when he was 22 months old, so not only was I taking care of a special needs toddler I was caring for and nursing a newborn and (without realizing it at the time) I was dealing with postpartum depression.

My husband and I were in survival mode to say the least.  We were functioning on years of no sleep, 2 very high needs children, our demanding jobs, and trying to understand autism and help our son thrive. Naturally, something had to be put on the back burner and by default it was our relationship.  

We began to take our frustrations out on one another and the lines of communication shut down.  The only things we would discuss were our children, if we spoke at all because we were too immersed in taking care of the kids.  When they were finally sleeping for 1-2 hour stretches, we would race to bed in hopes of getting a wink of sleep before being woken by a needy child.  

Our sex life was pretty much non–existent.  I would never even think to initiate anything and if Brent did, I would normally shoot him down because I was exhausted to my soul and “touched out” to the point that I couldn't bear the thought of being intimate and taking care of another person's needs.  

We rarely had date nights, no one could handle our kids and we were too tired to actually go out for a long duration anyway.  

We would do a lot as a family but it was always stressful because “w” couldn’t handle many situations with his sensory issues and it was hard for us to keep him safe.  Our friendships started to fade away and we felt like we were stuck on an island at home, full of stress and exhaustion.  

We started unknowingly keeping score.  Who got less sleep.  Who ran “W” to his therapies.  Who did the laundry.  Whose work is more demanding.  Who got 5 minutes of alone time without taking care of one of our children's needs. 

There were days where I thought, what’s the point of this relationship?  I do everything, I never get a minute to myself, it’s like I’m living with a roommate and  he just adds stress to my life.  

All we do is fight and we aren’t on the same page.  Where is the romance?  How does he expect me to have sex with him when he barely says 3 words to me all day?  

We would be in fights for days because I would turn down his advances.  I would see it as, all he can think about is sex. He doesn’t care about me!  He just wants to get off.  

When he’s thinking, she doesn’t love me anymore.  She can’t stand when I touch her.  She doesn’t want to make love to me or have any kind of  connection with me.  

We were not only on different pages, we were in 2 completely different books.

We had lost sight of our relationship and it was extremely close to sizzling out.  

Writing this narrative of our survival mode years makes me uneasy.  

We loved each other immensely and therefore recognizing the truth of what our relationship had become was painful.  

I believe that most of my friends and family reading this probably had no idea we were in such a hard spot.  I’d even say Brent probably wouldn’t admit it.  We do always view the past with rose colored glasses.  I can, however, remember how hopeless it felt.  

We did have good times amongst just surviving because  we fiercely loved one another and adored  our children but it was a struggle.  It was the hardest period of our lives and our relationship held on by a string.  

We never lost sight of our love for our family or our  gratitude for being blessed with happy, healthy children.  We did, however, lose our connection and our romance.  While forming the family of our dreams, we lost sight of us. 

Our “story” isn’t uncommon for many marriages with kids, especially those with a special needs child. For many couples, this is where the story ends, but luckily for me and Brent it was just the beginning of the journey back to “us”.  

Be on the look out for part 2, where I share our journey back to one another and how our relationship has thrived over the years!