Chapter 22: Starting over

Over the next week or two there was a little bit of an adjustment as our household went from two people to three, but overall we were all elated and on a high with the newness and love we were sharing with one another.  For months I had worried about how Dorian would accept or respond to Josh and was shocked and relieved when I saw just how silly my fears were.  It was as if Dorian, at the age of six months, already knew exactly who dad was. I still don’t know if it was because Dorian was always overloaded with mommy or he just always has had a special connection with Josh, but from the moment Josh came home, Dorian instantly attached to his dad.  I was a little disappointed that my baby who had been my only companion for so long so easily passed up time with me in his desire to be with his dad, but it was also a break and a relief I had not anticipated.  Josh, although a little hesitant, jumped into his parental duties and it was a new experience not having to jump up for every diaper change, bottle feeding, or playtime.  I had been in mommy mode nonstop for the last six months and now all of the sudden, I didn’t have to be.  I still took most the control and direction when it came to routine and tasks, but tried to back off and allow Josh the time he wanted as he bonded with his son, finally giving him the opportunity to get to know Dorian.

Now that I didn’t always have to be the only parent responsible and could exit “mommy mode” every once in a while, I tried to throw myself into the relationship with Josh we had had prior to deployment, but soon began to see things were different.  We had each turned into very different, distinct people: I had become a mother and Josh had become a soldier.  I tried to learn this new soldier side to Josh.  I asked him questions and observed him and was a little astonished at the change.  Josh was much more aloof, and while he expressed the love he had and showed it, there was obviously a space or distance between us.  I couldn’t help but remember and compare this separation to the distance we had experienced in Pennsylvania and although I was trying to be supportive of my husband as he transitioned to being back in the States, I now feared there were secrets I was once again unaware of.  I tried to ask questions, gauging where he was at, and even who he was, but the more I looked, the more I saw the solder he had turned into and the less I saw of the man I married. 

I quickly learned that despite my concern, questions, and attempts to understand, I was always just a bystander on the outside looking in.  I all the sudden became aware of all the things that sent Josh into soldier mode.  Anytime we were in a crowd, I could feel Josh’s entire body tense up.  I could feel his stress and panic as he surveyed every human being within his sight, scanning faces and bodies of individuals, while constantly looking over his shoulder.  There were several occurrences where it would overwhelm him so much he would ask if we could go home and explained that he was still in the mindset that everyone was suspect and could be trying to kill him.  This mentality followed him everywhere.  If we ever went to a restaurant to eat, Josh would have to take the seat that allowed him a view of everyone and refused to sit anywhere his back would be to a window or door.  He still woke up at nights mumbling and grabbing at me as he searched for the weapon he was so used to sleeping with.  However, the incident that really stuck with me was one evening after having just put Dorian to bed I walked into the living room and a firecracker went off outside the complex to the merriment of others.  I happened to be looking right at Josh when it exploded and the change that transformed his entire body shook me.  In a millisecond he went from relaxed and talking to hard, scared, and ready to act.  For the first time that night, I saw the soldier in true form and just how different a person he was from the man I met in a haze of smoke five years earlier. 

I began attempting to talk to Josh about his deployment, but he always brushed it aside as uneventful and unimportant.  I was worried as the months stacked up and many of his reactions had only improved by minimal increments.   I kept asking him to consider the possibility of PTSD, but he would always laugh and say he didn’t have nightmares and that he was functioning just fine.  He would swear up and down that his injury didn’t give him pause for thought, but it was merely instinct taking over and promised over and over again that I had nothing to worry about and to just give him time.  I tried to believe him and never wanted to push it, as he had already made the comment several times that I would never be able to really understand his deployment or what he had been through as I couldn’t even comprehend what it was him and his fellow soldiers went through and what life had been like.  I begged for him to share things with me and let me try and understand, but he made it clear, it wasn’t worth telling and it wasn’t worth me knowing.  He always said he was trying to protect me, but all I wanted was to know my husband.  In just a year I was beginning to see just how different he had become.  I still loved this man with all of my heart.  Josh was still my husband and my everything; I just wanted to be there to help.  I wanted to get to know him and this new identity he clearly had. I just wanted to be there.  I told him this over and over and he always let me know that he was aware of what I was offering, but that this was how he needed to deal with things.  I tried my best to back off.  I let him push me away, giving him the space he seemed to need, while doing everything in my power to show him just how much I loved him, and just how blessed our family was to finally be together. 

It was during these months that I really understood what it meant to be an Army wife.  I thought I understood it all when I sent out care package after care package.  I thought I understood what it was when I got the dreaded phone call that could have changed our lives.  I thought I understood what it was when I raised my child by myself for the first six months of his life, but that was only a glimpse as to what an Army wife is.  An Army wife is always there, behind the scenes.  Always aware of what each acronym means, what rank and command is important and who still has to go to FRG meeting and “fun” functions to show her support.  It is someone who even when she gets her husband back from war, the worry and dread is still always there.  Because even though our soldiers come home, it takes a long time before their minds and attitudes do.  For months we deal with loneliness and concern just to experience in a new way when they come home.  I feel like I became an Army wife the day I was once again asking Josh to please be seen about PTSD and was told I didn’t understand; I would never understand and how could it be PTSD when all he wanted was to go back over there?  His comment serrated my heart.  For a year I wished and prayed for his safe return home.  Now that he was home, I showered him with love as did his baby boy, so how could he wish to leave us, such blessings and good, for a desert wasteland he had spent the last year complaining about?  He was right; I didn’t understand and didn’t see how I could ever understand that.

Despite my fears and the bumpy adjustment, there was no doubting the love this little family held.  I knew things were off with Josh, but I also knew I loved him and even if it took time, we would get him the help he needed or I would help him work through the things that were causing the distance between us.  We had already survived so much, there was no reason we couldn’t overcome this as well. Dorian grew and blossomed each and every day and my heart swelled with love and pride at the motherhood I got to experience on a daily basis.  Now that Josh was home, there was no reservation in my heart at all: I wanted another child.  There was already talk of an upcoming deployment in as short a time as a year, so Josh and I began discussing the possibility of a second child.  He expressed wanting more time with Dorian and I agreed, but we were also both fearful a second pregnancy might not even be possible as Dorian was such a miracle.  We decided that it would be best to begin trying only a couple months after Josh returned home, remembering the years it took for us to conceive our son.  Neither one of us were hoping for much, and as we adjusted to our new roles we didn’t even have a lot of opportunities to try, so when July came around and I realized I was late I was hopeful and scared.  What if the PCOS was back and acting up again? What if I was pregnant and Josh wasn’t ready? If I was pregnant, the children would only be 18 months apart, could I even handle that?  Thoughts raced through my head as I took Dorian with me to pick up a pregnancy test at the dollar store.  Upon checking out the cashier scanned the test and wished me good luck as she bagged it.  I remember thinking it was such a clever acclimation as what was considered “good luck” depended on what each person hoped the outcome to be, whether positive or negative.  However, as silly as it sounds, her thoughtful wish was just what I needed as the truth burned in my heart what I wanted, because good luck for me, would mean the test would be positive.  I was ready for another baby.  Nothing in my life was as great a gift as being a mom was, so Dorian and I excited, went home while I thought how I would break the news if my wish came true.

That evening I made plans to meet Josh on post for lunch the next day.  I planned on taking the test first thing in the morning and breaking the news, if positive, at our lunch.  If it was negative, then at least I would get to spend time with the man I loved.   As soon as I woke up the next morning I nervously waited for my test.  I felt as if this test would determine whether future pregnancies were possible for me, or if it would take another three years to conceive again.  My heart pounded loudly and quickly in my chest while Dorian played contentedly on the bathroom floor.  I ran my toes over the plush brown rug in front of the sink, trying to keep my attention and eyes away from the test as it processed.  Finally, I willed myself to look and saw the double pink lines.  I was going to have another baby.

The elation was instantaneous.  My heart swelled with happiness, love and gratitude.  Not only would I get a chance to be a mom again, but I was blessed with the gift so easily.  Thoughts of Josh’s hesitancy crossed my mind, but I knew in my heart he would be excited for the news.  I quickly devised a plan as Dorian and I got dressed for the day.  At Wal-Mart, I purchased Dorian a shirt that said: I’m the big brother.  I then ran to the mall where I knew there was a booth that made custom shirts. I decided on having them make me a shirt that said “new recruit” and had an Army camouflage arrow pointing down to my belly.  As soon as my shirt was ready, I dressed both myself and Dorian in our new outfits and headed to post. 

As I pulled up to the park where Josh and I had agreed to meet my nerves took over.  As I climbed out of the car, I tried my best to hide the smile that was threatening to take over my entire face.  I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, waiting for him to notice either my shirt or Dorian’s.  As Josh pulled Dorian out of the car, we both quickly realized Dorian had messed his diaper and I giddily asked Josh to change him, hoping he would notice the big brother shirt that stood out so plainly to me.  Like a fool, I began taking pictures of Josh while he changed our son’s diaper hoping to catch on camera the moment he realized, but instead my husband looked at me quizzically.  Although I was a bit of a paparazzi, picture taking during diaper changes was a new one for me and still smiling like a fool, I explained I just wanted pictures of daddy and son in its natural form.  Josh must have bought it as he placed Dorian on his lap and handing out the burgers he had picked up for us.  I wondered how much longer I could keep my mouth shut and was mentally trying to decide at what point I should clue him in when I noticed Josh staring at my shirt.  I quickly grabbed my camera as he looked up and asked, “Really?”  I nodded my head yes and was able to capture the genuine and instant smile that sped across his face.  We discussed how it had caught us both off guard and the age difference between the two children, but we both came to the same conclusion: we were happy.        

As Josh and I began to prepare mentally for the new pregnancy, time seemed to fly by, even with the awful bouts of morning sickness.  The pregnancy was “comfortable” in the fact that it was almost identical to everything I experienced with Dorian and already Josh and I were making guesses at gender and contemplating names.  Time seemed to slip by though and before I knew it, Dorian’s first birthday was just around the corner.  I began planning a small get together.  I bought streamers and balloons, decorations and made a homemade cake.  I was proud of how it came together and I was proud to be celebrating my child’s first birthday. I couldn’t help but think back over the difficult pregnancy, the tortuous first couple of months and the last year as we all sort of adjusted to one another, finding our spots within our little unit.  All I felt as love as I rehearsed the memories, both good and bad, watching my son stare at his lit candle and the bewildered eyes as we all started singing at him.  I laughed and took pictures as Dorian stuffed handful after handful of cake and green frosting into his mouth.  This was life.  This is what I lived for.  This, despite the trials, was my dream come true.