I was 18 when I moved in with Michael, almost 19 when we had a civil union. If you would have told me then that by the time I was 24 I would have two breastfed co-sleeping cloth-diapered children I would not have believed you. Not that I didn’t want children, I just didn’t want them to come out of my body. I figured someday far down the road that we might adopt. Oh how time changes us…

When I first fell in love with Michael, he was perfect. Handsome and tall with a witty and deep personality. Had you pointed out a flaw to me at that time I would not have believed you. The kind of dad he was going to be was not a pressing issue in my mind when we were wed, nor were his parenting views were. I don’t know if any 18 year old wonder such things about their significant other.

Even when we decided to have our own children, we came up with their names long before we discussed parenting practices. He was actually the one who actually brought up breastfeeding, natural birth, co-sleeping EC and cloth diapering. Heck, I had never even held a baby until Damian was born, much less changed a diaper.

Even the best laid plans have kinks, especially when another life is involved. I was a wave of emotion throughout my pregnancy, when I was 8 months along my employer fired me and I became a stay-at-home mom before Damian even arrived! In that month at home I spent more time wondering what kind of father Michael would be then what kind of mother I would be. When I went into labor I loved Michael ever minute of it, he didn’t even flinch when I threw up (and he does not do well with vomit) and breathed with me during contractions. I loved him even more when Damian finally arrived and I watched him hold so tenderly.

That said, Damian was still a baby at that time, not really doing much other then nursing, pooping and sleeping. I honestly don’t think I really began to understand how great a father Michael is until Damian was crawling. Of course he is great at all that manly dad stuff like tossing Damian in the air, chasing him around the house while making every animal noise in existence, helping him down the slide in the park and reading the same books over and over too. But Michael is also great at all those things you never think about until you are taking care of another life. Diaper changes, late fussy nights, bath times, finding time to buy food… Things that I all to often hear that other dad’s are absent in. Not Michael though, he helps with all those little things, he is better at keeping track of the shopping then I am! And now that Ivy is here, he is still just as involved with her powerful little life force (and at times she is truly a force of nature) as he was with Damian.

I’m not saying he’s perfect, just like I’m not perfect. We have had won, lost and stalemated on our share of arguments. We have even had a couple nights were we have not shared our bed out of frustration with each other. And I don’t think any of that is a bad thing either. Sometimes walls need to be broken down to make room for a more stable foundation that can reach to greater heights. I will never love Michael as I loved him when we first fell in love, and I don’t want to, just as I will not ever love him like I loved him when Damian was born or when Ivy arrived. Our life has changed so much since we first met, we have changed so much.

It is about this moment, right now. I still love him as the person who can make me feel beautiful with just a look and as the handsome devil he is with that witty sense of humor of course. But I also love him in a way that only a mother can love the father of her children. The father who sits up late on the couch as his son fall asleep in his lap. The father who will wear his baby in a sling because they don’t want to be set down and who gets up in the middle of the night to sooth an upset child. The one who goes to work every day so that I can stay home with our children and give them the care we feel they deserve. I can see the love our children have for him and that makes me love him even more.

I know it would be a mistake to believe I will never love him as much as I do now, I thought that when I was 18, but I do love him more then ever in this moment. And that is a beautiful realization.