We were standing outside on the porch of the home I grew up in. The door was still red in color. The shutters were black and starting to fade. My favorite spot during the summer nights – the porch swing – was still hanging there with a blanket lying over the back of it. My breathing was shaky at best as I reached for the doorbell, but before I could press the button Ian’s hand grabbed mine and squeezed it tightly. He pulled me into a hug, holding me there for just a little bit longer than normal with his face in the hollow of my neck and whispered, “It’s going to be alright.”

I desperately wanted to believe him, but my emotions have been all over the map lately. In a matter of moments I could go from laughing and having a wonderful time with my husband to being on the verge of tears and entering into momentary depression. If I was going to get through this dinner with my parents I was going to have to put on the happy face, the one that had found itself plastered to my features over the past two weeks. A face I’ve even showed to Ian on a few occasions.

“If you say so,” I whispered back, not confident in how I was feeling. He pulled back from our embrace and quickly kissed me.  He let me regain my composure and said, “I do say so,” as he pushed the button for the doorbell while simultaneously bringing a smile to face.

My mother was to the door quicker than I expected. I couldn’t help but wonder if she saw our exchange from one of the living room windows. It was a moment that I considered private and having her intrude on that hurt  – deep down in my gut, but I tried not to let it bother me. I was here to see her and my dad after all.

As we walked into the foyer, my father was there to greet us. I watched silently as he shook Ian’s hand with a smile on his face. I chuckled at the memory of my dad telling Ian where he kept his guns when I brought Ian to the house for the first time. To see how their relationship had grown over the years, after my father realized Ian wasn’t going anywhere, made my heart beat a little faster and a small smile came to my face.

Ian must have heard my almost silent chuckle to their interaction because he turned to look at me, a large grin plastered across his handsome features. It was moments like that when he would just smile at me that helped me remember why I had fallen in love with this man when we were in college. He was more than just an attractive man. He pushed my buttons and challenged me, but he was always there when things didn’t go perfectly. My dad quickly took our coats and shooed us off to the living room, where we could get warm by the fireplace, stating dinner would be ready shortly.

Dinner – the time Ian and I would make our announcement. It was the moment that I had been dreading since we got in the car. This was a conversation that I wasn’t expecting to have so soon. As if he were tuned in to my inner monologue Ian came to me, grabbing my hand and kissing me on the temple. Our relationship often went beyond words and simple actions like that brought me the most comfort. I felt my body relax as we sat down on the couch across from my mother and got comfortable. I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders and my head fell perfectly into the space his arm created. I watched as my mother smiled at our position. She kept the conversation light as we talked about the upcoming holidays and who would be visiting whom on what days.

Before I knew it we were seated around the table all our bellies stuffed with a scrumptious home cooked meal. My dad was the best cook I knew and I know Ian was glad my dad taught me everything he knew because we often enjoyed spending time together in the kitchen as I cooked. I watched my mother glance around the table and back to the kitchen. More food must be coming.  I don’t think I could handle anything else to eat – I already felt like I could vomit.

“Would anyone like dessert?” my mother asked.

This was going to have to be our moment; we couldn’t put off this announcement any longer. My body tensed, but Ian quickly grabbed my hand under the table, first squeezing it and then rubbing circles on the top of my hand with his thumb reminding me of his presence and silently giving me a little courage.

“Actually Mom, we have something to tell you,” I said so quietly I wasn’t even sure if they heard me.

My father must have because I watched him look suspiciously between Ian and myself. “Is everything alright, Em?” he asked.

“No, daddy, it’s not.” But I couldn’t say anything else because I was overcome with so many emotions. The world around me stilled, tears came to my eyes and my hands shook. I looked around the table unable to make eye contact with anyone. “Excuse me,” I continued and got up from the table before anyone could tell me to stay. I faintly heard Ian tell my parents not to follow after me and that I needed my space, but I was too far away to hear if he told them why.

My vision was still blurry, but I continued to walk through the house until I reached the door to the basement. I opened it, turned on the light and began my slow decent down the stairs. As I walked I glanced around the room. I was looking for a specific box – it was smaller than all the others that filled the shelves. It was bright blue and the white top was ripped. Starting at the bottom, I went row by row looking for it. When my eyes finally found the box, it was resting on the top shelf in the far corner. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I walked over to it and carefully removed it from its place. I dusted off the top and slowly uncovered it. I pulled out all of the items individually and spent a few seconds looking at what was in my hands: a picture of my mom and I in a frame, a stack of pictures that I used to go through, a tiny blanket that was once pink but now looked almost white in color and some onesies that were so small I didn’t think I actually wore them.

I repeated the process until there was one item left in the box. I reached and grabbed that final item – my teddy bear. It was still missing its left eye and its nose was ripped, just the way I remember leaving it when I packed up my room to head to college. I began to weep as I felt its softness between my hands. I fell to my knees from the crouching position I was in while I clutched the bear to my chest in the same fashion I had done throughout the years when I was a child. What I once considered a stupid toy was now bringing me, in some morbidly twisted way, comfort. It took a few moments, but slowly I began to loosen my grip and brought my hands to rest on my stomach. My sobs progressively got louder and the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I faintly heard footsteps behind me and then I felt them – two strong hands wrapped around my waist and rested on top of mine. My cries became louder as Ian placed his chin on my shoulder.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m here now.”

He placed a quick kiss on my cheek and tightened his grip on my hands. I wondered if I believed the words he said. Would everything really be okay? I felt such joy two months ago and now my baby – no, our “player-to-be-named-later” – is gone and there’s nothing I can do. I feel so helpless, so empty.

“I love you sweetie,” he continued.

Throughout this entire situation he has been so loving and great to me, but I was struggling with saying I love you back to him. With so many emotions coursing through my body, I was starting to question love. So I just turned my head and looked at him. Through my watery eyes I noticed, for the very first time, the pain in his eyes. Slowly I moved my hands away from my stomach and reached for the bear.

“I couldn’t wait to give him, or her, my bear,” I whispered.

“I know.” Ian replied softly.

I barely registered that our voices are quiet and soft. I began to wonder why we were the only people in the room. Why didn’t my parents come too? I wished things were different, happier and that instead of pain in his eyes I’d see joy, happiness and pride. I wished we’d be doing this with my stomach round with our son or daughter waiting to meet us, kicking as we spoke to him or her.

I moved to stand and left the box and all its contents splayed across the floor. He stood with me and placed his hands on my cheeks. Gently, with the pads of his thumbs, he wiped away the last few tears that escaped.

“I love you no matter what and I’ll wait until you’re ready to try again. I’ll wait for forever if that’s what you want.”

The tears began to fall again and he pulled me into a loving embrace. I knew I was getting tears all over his shirt, but at the same time I knew he didn’t care. I knew deep down he just wanted me to be happy again. And I realized that all this time, while he’s reassured me of his love and given me his support I have failed him in not returning the same feelings. I moved my head from his chest and looked at him with all the love and adoration I was feeling in that moment. This man, my husband, was remaining strong for me and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell him that I loved him.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

“For what?” he asked slightly confused and surprised by the sound of my voice.

“For being the strong man that I fell in love with when we were just 18. I’m sorry for not saying I love you back because I do, I love you so much, it’s just this entire thing has been really difficult for me.” I said quickly.

“I know.”

“Ian, I love you so much.” I said more confident in our love than ever before.

“I love you back sweetheart,” he said before he pulled me in for a kiss.

As I pulled away trying to catch my breath, I looked at him and for the first time in two weeks I truly felt happy.

“Now, let’s go tell your parents the story of our player-to-be-named-later,” he said grabbing my hand and pulling me up the stairs.

The mess on the floor was forgotten and I was ready for whatever was in store for our future because as I held his hand I felt like I could conquer the world. I knew in my heart that with his hand wrapped protectively around mine that anything in the world was possible. And we’d take the first step towards our new forever by talking with my parents, even if I’d have to do it with tears in my eyes.