Living in the "now", not in the future.

Deployments, oh where to start. 


The first deployment I experienced with my husband was a breeze. I was naive and I'll admit, a bit ignorant to what my husband's job entitled. In my mind he was going to Iraq, doing something "important" and coming home. I didn't know what the infantry did. I didn't know what kind of conditions he would be living in. Frankly, I didn't want to know. I was living with my best friend at the time, who's husband was also in Iraq. I didn't understand why she cried, or why she was worried. I mean, I missed him.. and sometimes it got the best of me, but I wasn't too emotional about it. I was living back home in Missouri. I had her, my parents, my fiance (at the time)'s family, my friends and three jobs to keep me busy. I knew nothing about what I was getting myself in to. I loved him. I didn't know about any of the benefits that came with being a military spouse. I didn't know how much money he made and I surely didn't know anything about his job. Man, was I in for a wake up call and a slap in the face.

I moved out here to be with him shortly after he returned from Iraq. We were married almost immediately after. We found a place, settled down. I started to make a few friends, starting getting involved with his unit and the community. Life was good. I found out I was pregnant and everything started to get a little chaotic. Doctor's appointments, classes and trying to figure out how in the world we were going to fit a baby into our budget and our crazy lives. We made it work though, and I wouldn't trade her for the world. During my pregnancy, we found out that shortly after she would be born,  he was going to leave for Afghanistan. By this time, I had heard stories of his time in Iraq. I had done a little mind-picking and put together a picture of what his job entitled. Unfortunately, I was spot on. Reality started sinking in. He was going to be GONE for seven months. GONE, as in.. not just for a week.. not just for a month, but for SEVEN months. That was insane to me. How was I to even breathe without him here? How was I to raise our daughter by myself? Would he come home in one piece? Would he come home AT ALL? How would him leaving when she was so small, and returning to a crawling, talking, almost toddler be? Would she remember him? -Those were the questions that were constantly running through my mind. MONTHS before he was even set to leave, I couldn't stop them. They just came and went at all hours of the day and night. I couldn't control them. I spent the last few months that we had together worrying and wondering about things that I couldn't really control. I honestly feel like I could have cherished those moments instead of crying, panicking and all that other stuff. I will NOT make that mistake again. 


We have already learned about another upcoming deployment. Once again for seven months, and once again to Afghanistan. This time I am as prepared as I can be. I am not even thinking about it. I am living each day as if it is our last and cherishing every moment. If, God forbid, something were to happen to him, I don't want to look back and wish I had done things differently. I want to be able to look back and say "Hey, we took the time that God had given us and used it wisely."

Don't focus on the past, live for today and hope for tomorrow.