I began dating my husband when we were 21 and knew within weeks that I wanted to marry him. I’d never felt like that before and had actually began doubting that marriage was for me. But with him, he loved me, truly and deeply. And I loved him–all of him, for better or worse.

Once into the committed phase of our relationship, you know the point…. for me that point came some time after I saw my first name written with his last name in one of his notebooks… we would discuss how many kids each of us wanted to have. We agreed on 2 or 3 kids and that we would space them 3 years apart. Regardless of how in love we were or how we planned for our family, there was really no way of knowing how each of us would parent, or how we’d parent together, or what kind of Dad he would be.

When we had our son, we were both clueless. I’m self-admittedly not a fan of infants so those first few months were intense to say the least. Apparently, either was my husband. There was arguing and resentment. But we made it out, and nearly 3 years later we had our second child (we stuck to that original plan). Now, 3 years later, we are raising our children together.

And together we get to enjoy their personalities, negotiate how to discipline, and create family memories. It’s not always easy, but we’re in it together, which makes it a hell of a lot less difficult. The other day, I was sitting downstairs listening to my husband with our children brushing their teeth upstairs and laughing. My husband was doing something silly and they were enjoying every second of it. It was at that moment that I knew how very lucky I am.

There was no way of knowing what kind of dad my husband would be. But today, I know that for as much as he loves me, he loves our children even more.  And that has made me fall deeper in love with my husband, their dad.