My husband and I have had to make some important decisions in the last few weeks. After many months of deployments, it seems that he has to go for one year of training for the new aircraft he will be flying. The training is split in two different locations, and once he is done, he will most likely deploy again.
Unfortunately, he only has a couple of weeks when he gets back from Iraq and then he is off again. Hubby has insisted that we go with him at least to one location because we have a chance to be all together.
I admit, I resisted the idea. Moving all six children, uprooting them, getting settled in new schools, or maybe even home-schooling for the few months we are with him — only to then move again — seemed impossible.
The hardest part of this minor ordeal has been trying to communicate on a regular basis. Whenever we are able to speak, we try to squeeze everything into a short conversation. This isn’t the best way to make decisions and we have had numerous tense discussions about our plans.
I started to resent my husband’s request that we move with him and felt that he couldn’t possibly understand where I was coming from or how hard it would be for me to move six children — all seven-years-old and under — including one of them, Matteo, with special needs and health issues.
Perhaps the last few weeks of my pregnancy, coupled with my husband’s long absence, made me a bit more edgy, to say the least.
I felt stuck.