Have a little faith in me…


It was a white dress, you in a black tux, our closest family and friends in attendance, my Dad at my side, my whole future standing at the end of the aisle, as the DJ softly played the classic song by John Hiatt that would unknowingly become the soundtrack of our lives.

Have a little faith in me…

It was two tiny little lines on a pregnancy test I was so sure was negative I almost forgot about it under the bathroom sink. It was tears and uncertainty and the fear of failing at the most important job I would ever have. It was your comfort and your reassurance that I could do this, that together we could do anything, your heroic strength in a moment I know you were just as scared as I was.

Have a little faith in me…

It was pain, the most earth shattering pain I had ever felt as the contractions tore through me, my whole body shaking as I braced for the next one to take hold. I looked into your deep blue eyes, told you I was scared, I couldn’t do this, pleaded with you to help make it stop. It was you grabbing my hand, wiping my brow, cheering me to the finish line as our baby took her first breaths and her cries filled the room.

Have a little faith in me…

It was darkness and exhaustion and a crying, hungry baby in my arms as I sat, hunched over, trying to get her to latch on to provide us both with some much-needed comfort and relief. You were there, awake in the middle of the night even though there was nothing you could physically do to help her or I, rubbing my back and encouraging me to not give up, reminding me I could do this.

Have a little faith in me…

It was two more pregnancies in four short years, my mind unsure how much more my body could take, my heart unsure I could ever love another baby as much as I loved our first. It was the gentle, almost cathartic way you rocked our second daughter as she howled through the night with colic. It was the way your face beamed with pride as my body gave that final push to welcome our son into this world.

Have a little faith in me…

It was a want for something more, a need to step outside the role of only being “Mom,” the encouragement you offered when I told I wanted to chase my wildest dreams, to find my voice and my place in this world. It was your reassurance that I was good enough, that I could do anything I wanted.

Have a little faith in me…

It was all I was asking of you eight years ago when we said I do; your faith in me, in my ability as a wife and a mother and as a woman pursuing her dreams, has never wavered, never faltered. Your belief in me has helped guide me through the darkest nights and the calmest days.

On our anniversary, and every day, I want to say thank you, with every ounce of my being.

Because, even though it was our love that made us parents, it was your faith in me that helped make me a mother.