Smiles and Trials: Six Years; Fourteen Nights

Six years ago, on the beach after midnight; the kiss that started it all. Sixteen long months after we met! I still remember the first time I saw him, as clear as though it were yesterday. I thought about him all the way home. To myself, I listed the things about him that were not "my type". The blue eyes and dark hair; the smart shoes; the strong arms. Yet, undeniably, they were some of the things I liked most.

For sixteen months, we travelled in circles, rarely progressing. I never wavered and, eventually, there was a crack in his armour, quickly followed by an admission that perhaps we were on the same page after all.

It had felt like a lifetime of persuasion and convincing.

"No, I'm not mad." "Yes, my eyes are open." "Of course I love you."

I had always loved him; despite my lifelong belief of love at first sight being a completely ludicrous notion, no other explanation sufficed. More than anything, I contained a certainty that not only could we be together, but we really should be.

In the great scheme of things, it didn't take him long to figure it out; that I was right. We were good for each other and we laughed a lot. Often at some of his stories; I swear, this man has had some of the most bizarre accidents in history. I loved to listen to him, to hear his tales of growing up, moving around, of all the places he had seen. We talked for hours and it transpired, with every conversation, that we were both frighteningly similar and strikingly different.

A perfect balance, really.

At the time, at the age I was, it felt as though we had been together for years by the time Jasmine was conceived. In truth, we discovered her existence on July 7th 2008, less than a year after we officially started dating. Furthermore, she had already been silently present for 20 weeks by then. I will never forget the look on his face as he held the positive result in his hands. He looked as though he might burst with happiness and pride and love.

Progression thereafter was not smooth. Apparent issues with size and fluid and blood flow meant frequent trips to King's College hospital in London. And tests; so many tests. He was at my side for every scan, for every test. Held my hand as we watched our tiny daughter bob about on screens. He always reassured me. He must have been frightened, but he didn't let me see, he stayed strong and kept me positive.

All ended well.

He eyed our baby girl with the same happiness, pride and love that I had seen on his face that beautiful day in July.

21 months later, we added a boy to our family.

He told me afterwards how he had feared for both our lives that day; wondered whether he would leave the hospital alone. Yet at the time, he was so calm. Again, he held my hand and reassured me. He told me everything was good and I believed him.

Days later, he proposed for the first time. The following summer, he asked me again.

We will get round to the marriage thing at some point. We have what is important, though. The love, the trust. I think the last 12 months have proven it, beyond doubt. We would not have survived the year otherwise.

But survive it we have and, two weeks today, we will be together again. I am so happy and excited about this. Fourteen nights; fourteen short sleeps! I cannot wait.

I still love those blue eyes, the dark hair and strong arms. I love him completely, and more so every day. Happy anniversary (of sorts), Hubby. Happy Father's Day. Thank you for being everything I could ever wish a husband, partner, lover, friend and soul mate to be. Thank you for being such a wonderful father to our children. Thank you for being you. Just thank you.