Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on ten.
It all started with counting.
Counting to ten while I pushed and pushed.
Counting to ten while I rested.
Getting frustrated with your stubborn ways already, since you were refusing to budge.
And then, they took you.
And when you were here, we were immediately separated and I needed more time, to rest, to get stronger.
By the time they put you in my arms and I got to really see you, I started to count, ten fingers, ten toes.
Ten kisses on each.
Three years later, the countdown started again.
First, it was the countdown to your birthday.
Just two more weeks, just ten more days, just five, tomorrow, he will be here tomorrow.
And once we got to the hospital, just a few more hours.
Almost time, let's get ready, keep a close eye on the time.
Sabrina, he's almost ten pounds!
And my heart physically grew to ten times its original size.
You were my one and only love at first sight.
This winter marks our tenth anniversary.
Ten years of marriage but our story started way before that.
Our family, our time, our commitment started long before our "I do".
We started writing the book of love as kids.
And fifteen years later, it all looks so different.
Our faces, our intentions, our tempers, our patience, us, it all looks different now.
Counting the days, the moments.
Surviving this time.
Getting through it all.
It all started with counting to ten, while I pushed and pushed.