Deployment

Josh left on February 26th of this year for a one-year deployment to Afghanistan. Luckily we are on the downhill side, and have only 5 months remaining! I remember the night Josh told me about this deployment: we were sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment and I was pregnant. He said he had something to tell me, something that he wanted to keep between him and I until he knew more. I knew what was coming; these types of "announcements" don't really spring up on you. Rather, they seem to follow a process of hearsay, hypothetical, possible, probable, imminent. In other words, there had been rumors and talk. It's difficult to explain what I felt, and to be honest it was more of a joint feeling expressed between the two of us. I remember just looking at him, tears filling our eyes, and not saying anything because inside we both knew what the other was feeling, and at least for that night it didn't really need to be discussed at length. The news itself was enough for one night. At this time we didn't know exactly when he would leave. After some time the answers and details began emerging, and thankfully we learned he would not be leaving until Annabelle was five months old. This knowledge brought me peace.
The next few months are a blur. We closed on our home, moved, got everything in order, had a baby and then you know the rest--WHOOSH--the day of deployment was upon us! I do have to mention however that the month leading up to a deployment is tense. I'm sure my army wife friends can attest to this change in dynamics around the house. There is a lot to get done, much to prepare for (mentally, physically, emotionally, even spiritually) and it feels somewhat overwhelming. You know you're going to be separated for a long time and you try to begin preparing yourself for the day.
Josh, Annabelle and I arrived at the National Guard Air Base at about 6am. Both of our families were there to support him. We talked and visited with other soldiers and their families, and took pictures. What an amazing group of men and women--families included. What an honor to be a part of it all. I was so proud of Josh. The time of departure drew near and I felt the weight getting heavier and heavier, but I still attempted to push away the reality of what was happening. We all said our goodbyes and we even stayed to watch the plane take off. A row of officers lined up against the fence to salute them as they took off...an awesome sight!
I was ok. I had made it through the hardest part. Well not exactly! I vividly remember arriving home that afternoon. I got out of the car, got Annabelle out of her car seat, and as I walked to the door I felt like collapsing. I looked at my windows, and the reality of coming home alone with a baby--of coming home alone with a baby for the next 12 months hit me like a ton of bricks. I cried...and then Annabelle cried...and then we cried together pretty much the whole night. I kept apologizing to her for making her upset, and we prayed together in the rocker countless times. I know Heavenly Father was listening to us.
When I woke up the next morning I received an email from the army. It said something to the effect of, "All of us had a rough day and night yesterday, but today is a new day and the sun is shining." I opened all the blinds and the sun was shining. I felt peace; I knew I could get through this, and I knew that many women and children were going through the same thing. I took comfort in that. I realized I was not alone--I had Annabelle with me, I have an amazing family, Josh has an amazing family, and I have my Heavenly Father. What was there to complain about? Nothing. It was ok.
Annabelle and I are doing great. Josh is doing great. His team has been very successful in their missions and in their intel, even to the extent of receiving regional recognition and praise. We are living two different lives, but we are growing. I have learned so much about myself as a wife and a mother: my limits, my priorities and my parenting style to name a few. I have learned to take life one day at a time, to be grateful for the here and now, to wish for nothing more than what I have today. And what I have today is a lot of love, a family, a home, true friends, health, a beautiful baby and the knowledge that if everything ends today, life will still go on, and we'll still be just as happy.

"Wartime was full of sacrifices, fear, panic, pain, and hardships, but it was also a time of vivid memories, learning, and growth, because real learning often happens only in times of hardship." Jutta Baum Busche