Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love

Here's my man:



He's been "on company" with the fire department for about a year now. Yes, a year ago, he graduated the academy after some of the hardest work he's ever done in his life. I still get shivers when I think about him being sworn in at graduation. I mean, beyond the obvious (way cute dude in a dress uniform taking an oath to be a hero), I knew the behind-the-scenes road we had traveled to get to that point. I saw firsthand the sacrifices and the studying and the exams. He wasn't about to be finally handed his dream job only to go at it halfway. That's not Seth's way.

That graduation day was probably one of the proudest of my life so far.

And hottest.

And pregnant-est.

A few days later, after the celebrating settled down, Seth headed in to his first day on company. Everything was fine. I'm not a worrier by nature, but I admit that he popped into my thoughts almost constantly, and I prayed a lot. I held it together though, even though he wasn't texting as much as I would have liked and I was, as I mentioned, super-pregnant.

That night, I waddled the boys to bed, settled on the couch with a netflix movie, and waited impatiently for him to text. We have a daily ritual of me reminding him at the proper time to take his insulin. Well, the time came and went, and he wasn't answering.

Have you ever been crazy pregnant and your husband has a dangerous job and he's not texting you back in a timely fashion?

I admit to being fretful.

Finally, late that night, (two hours past insulin time, mind you) I got a text from him saying he'd been at a two alarm apartment fire. On his first day. And it was "awesome".

I'd been told that being a firefighter is really only a very small percentage fighting actual fires. This information had soothed me. I didn't mind as much envisioning him taking pulses and doing hydrant checks.

But listening to him excitedly rattle on about crawling through a smoke filled building...

It couldn't be stopped. I burst into tears. Big, fat, pregnant tears.

I cried for a long time, but didn't tell him I was crying. Perhaps it had been building up for awhile and I just needed to release that anxiousness through tears. It's just how it had to be processed I guess.

After that, I went back to being my regularly scheduled rational self--at least where firefighting was concerned. There are days when a worry creeps in, but I've learned just to take those opportunities to say a prayer for his safety and move on. I love his job. It's perfect for him and for us. Not only that, but it's given us some pretty good stories. And it's only been a year.

Maybe sometime I'll tell you about the time the little white fire department pickup truck showed up in front of my house and I got the visit every firefighter's wife dreads.

PS:

This is us

This is more accurately us.