Life With Aaron, Part I: The Mushy Stuff

To me, Aaron is a tangible representation of love.

Our love for each other is not just a word. Nor is it merely an action. It is a way of living. It is the context in which we spend all of our moments. It is the framework that guides the way we live our lives and live our love.

Aaron's love for me is a way that God has shown me His love and His faithfulness.

When I got sick, one of the deepest worries of my heart was that I would have to endure my journey alone. It wasn't that I felt I needed a man or that I could not do it on my own, but it was a fear and an insecurity that somehow, because of what had happened to my health, I would no longer be worth it. You know, it? The effort that it takes to build a strong and lasting relationship with someone, let alone someone who will be sick for the rest of her life.

But four years after my health turned south, God sent me the most wonderful message. His message was this: my plans for you are greater than your fears about them; here, let Me show you.

Aaron was this message. Aaron has continued to be this message.

I was 20 when we met; he, 24.

There was a learning curve. Just as it takes time for anyone who meets me to realize what my life is like as a person with chronic illness, it took Aaron some time, too. But he picked it up quickly. He jumped into a role that I had barely let myself acknowledge would ever exist.

He became my caretaker. My comfort. My hand holder. My pill getter. My meal cooker. My heating pad clicker. My ice pack wrapper. My arm I grab onto to stabilize myself as I double over. My shirt to hold onto while I scream in pain. My security guard at events where people could bump into me. My distraction from the pain.

He loved me. He loved me so deeply that everything else followed suit. People often ask him "how do you do it?" His response? "I love her. How could I not do it?"

For someone in his twenties to not think twice about taking on this role is truly a miracle. I had to stop asking God, "but how?". It is too much for me to comprehend; too much for my earthly mind to try and grasp why someone would willingly want to be a part of this.

I've had to have complete faith in God's plan. To understand that this was not a mistake or something that I just fell into. I have known from the get go that this is a gift. I have cherished our relationship as such every step of the way and have put in the effort to take care of that gift. It was hard to not think "okay, when is he going to wake up and be tired of this life path he is on with me, the sick girl?". I'll admit, that was a difficult thought to push from my mind. But Aaron has given me every opportunity to be as much a part of this relationship as he is. I have been able to take care of and support him, in different ways, but as much as he has taken care of and supported me. Slowly but surely, I have realized that he is not going anywhere.

I think most of us can relate to talking to God about certain things we'd like in a partner. On my self-serving list, I wanted someone who was tall. Height was never a deal breaker for me, but I thought it would be nice to feel small. Low and behold, I now have a 6'3" man who can wrap his arms all the way around me, whose shoulder my head can rest against perfectly, and who actually tells me "you're so little" (I'm 5'10" and am by no means petite...certainly not "little", but to him I am. He even calls me Small Fry).

I, of course, had some more serious things that I talked to God about with regards to my future partner. I never made a list of what I desired in a man, but for the sake of this post, let's write it in that format. Over the years, I prayed for someone who would be:

- kind
- understanding
- an open communicator
- able to laugh with me (bonus points for being able to make me laugh)
- a lover of life
- supportive of me and my dreams
- excited about his own passions and ambitions
- committed
- expressive with his love
- full of faith

These were the desires of my heart for my partner and for my relationship. After some tough relationships (tough is an understatement in a few cases), I wasn't sure that these were even possible, but still I prayed. Once I got sick, I prayed even harder. Somehow my prayers took a turn and I was no longer praying for what I truly desired but rather for what, in my mind, could still be possible. I told God that I wasn't going to be stubborn and that I understood how hard it would be for a man to commit to a relationship with me. I basically told Him that I was willing to settle.

Thankfully, God had other plans. Aaron was a perfect example of God's plans being so much better than my own. The things on the list above would be beneficial in any relationship. I'd be willing to bet that most of us desire those qualities in some form or another. But little did I know how incredibly crucial they would become after I got sick.

The importance of everything on that list was magnified by illness. I don't know how day to day life would be possible with a partner who lacked kindness and understanding. Aaron has always shown me kindness and has had an understanding for my life that still takes my breath away. He knows my pain and my needs better than I do sometimes.

He has been so willing to be an open communicator. When we first met, this was a bit difficult for him. I shared much more than he did. I have to. I feel like illness is so foreign to anyone who hasn't experienced it, that I need to be as open and as clear as possible about what I am going through. How else can someone understand me if they are not getting enough information straight from the source? We'd have heart to hearts where I did most of the talking. I talked about my pain. I talked about my feelings. I talked about our relationship. I talked about life. I talked about my fears. I talked about my faith. And soon enough, he talked back. He talked back a lot. I was as relieved as I was thrilled. Our communication has only grown over the years and has recently become even more important as a long distance couple. I am happy that this is now one of the strongest parts of our relationship.

Aaron and I laugh. We laugh a lot. I really do believe that laughter is one of the best medicines (aside from the times when it flares up my pain. But then at least I can laugh while I cry and that's still better than just crying). He is quick witted and can be both smart-funny and stupid-funny. I like both. And of course, I'm a riot, so he gets to laugh, too. As he says to me all the time, "well you're just the funniest person you know, aren't you?!". Umm, yes. Yes, I am. We're not afraid to be weird and ridiculous. Sure, we get stared at sometimes, but I'm proud to not always take life too seriously. I've got plenty on my plate that needs to be taken seriously. If given the chance, I choose laughter and I choose joy whenever possible.

We seek out and enjoy life in small ways and it reveals itself to us in big ways.

Off the bat, Aaron showed me every quality on that list and more. That being said, he has done a lot of growing over the years. Much of that growth, we will both admit, was necessary. I can say the same for myself. It is strange to look back to the beginning of a relationship and see how much things have changed. We both feel immense gratitude for who we are now and what we have with each other today.

Aaron has awakened his spirit before my eyes. With all of the great qualities he possessed when we first met, there was a cloud of darkness and self-doubt holding him back. Aaron is a baseball player. He is an incredibly talented pitcher that never got the chance to shine. He was injured right before an invite-only Major League try out. He had always struggled with confidence, but this circumstance really broke his spirit. It happened only a few months before we met.

I could tell that he was missing something. I could tell that he didn't feel complete. I know that many would advise against starting a relationship in this state. Heck, I had just returned to school after two years of medical leave and had no idea what I was doing or what I wanted. I had gone through extreme depression and isolation in those years and felt pretty lost joining the real world again. We pretty much were the opposite of the old cliche "you need to love yourself before you can love someone else".

Christmas 2008. A week after we started dating.

But somehow I knew that God had brought us together. God showed me what Aaron needed. He needed to know that he was good enough. He needed to know that he had all the tools he required to still be successful. To know that he deserved a good life and that there were many fulfilling paths to take. He needed to know that it was okay to put himself out there and be vulnerable. To know that I loved him and that he was worth that love. He needed to know that God had an amazing plan for him.

And somehow Aaron knew what I needed, too. I needed to know that I was so much more than just a sick girl, to know that I was still a whole and complete person. I needed to know that I was deserving of love. I needed to know that I could break free of the darkness and doubt from past relationships. I needed to know that I had something to offer. To know that I could do anything I set my mind and my heart on. I needed to know that I didn't have to settle. Aaron repeatedly broke down deep, dark walls that I had built up over the years. He constantly encouraged me not to settle.

I think we would both say that today, we know all of these things. We attribute so much of this growth to each other. It is one of the greatest compliments to hear that you have played a role in bettering someone's life. How special to be able to say this to each other. We have always seen the best in one another and have made every effort to be encouraging along the way. While we have come so far, we know that there is always more growing to be done. We know that in order to continue to be happy, we have to keep taking that next step. So together, we step.

Aaron is doing amazing things with his life. His new found confidence has allowed him to embark on his pursuit of a job in baseball operations for Major League Baseball. His hard work, natural skills, persistence, and some timely help from God have got him off to a great start. He just finished up his first season working for an independent league. We are prayerful and excited about what will come next!

His support for me and my pursuits have encouraged me to start this blog. He believes in my vision and in my dreams, sometimes even more than I do. He has never doubted my ability to do anything. He has been my biggest supporter through difficult semesters, my research work, and through all of my deep desires to return to the arts. Who knows where that last one will lead, but I know that he will be right there next to me wherever I go.

There are many challenges in a relationship with chronic illness. I've never read a book on how to handle them, but at this point, I feel like we've pretty much written it. I can't say that I know what it is like to be in his shoes. I can't stand to see one of my loved ones suffer through as much as the flu. He has handled almost five years of my gut-wrenching, horrific screaming, sheet clawing, unable to breathe, cry inducing, make-up ruining, face-contorting pain. That's an incredibly challenging thing to do. And yet he does it with so much grace. He does it with extreme compassion and a quiet strength. Even when I know he is scared, he is steady and certain.

ICU after my full artery reconstruction in 2011.

And to my surprise, he never complains. I know that some days it is tiring. Some days I do my best not to overwhelm him with my pain or my nausea or my concern about some new symptom that has popped up. But he knows me well enough to know what I am hiding. He asks and he listens. Before I can even say it myself, he lets me know that it's okay to stay home with my heating pad on a day we had plans. He moves our reservation back an hour when he sees that I am moving slowly. He sets up a spot for me on the couch when I need a change of scenery. He refills my water bottle when it's empty and he knows that pill time is coming. He tells me stories for distraction when I need it and holds my hand and plays softly with my hair when I need quiet.

For all of the times where pain takes the lead, there are certainly times where I force it to take a back seat. "Good pain days" (aka days where I have less debilitating pain and more energy) are an exciting thing around here. We find fun and adventure anywhere. Sometimes I need to stay closer to home so we explore new things in our own city...or we just go to a big Target, which is honestly one of our favorite date spots. A few easygoing hours at Disneyland also tops our list of favorites. Sometimes we take day or weekend trips and make new discoveries in LA, San Diego, etc. We love road tripping and have made some of our best memories in the middle of nowhere. We have been blessed with great travel opportunities and spend lots of time with both of our families. But we are also just as happy on days when I need to stay home, or even on vacation days when plans need to be cancelled and we return to the hotel room with treats, throw on the History Channel, turn on the heating pad, and goof around for the rest of the night. Having someone that you are just happy to be around and that you can truly call your best friend is an incredible blessing.

This is a typical night on vacation. My body was done for the night.
Heating pad. Treats. Pawn Stars on the History Channel. Pure happiness.

I try to never take him for granted. I am in awe each and every day. While I'm able to say all of these wonderful things, I don't want anyone to think that life is perfect or that we are somehow superhuman or immune. We face all of the same challenges that other couples face. We have our ups and downs and our hard days. But we have realized that we prefer to be in a state of love, happiness, and gratitude. In the hard times, we do whatever it takes to get back to that state as quickly and smoothly as possible. We let our love guide us. We rely on our faith and grow in that faith together. We talk it out and look ahead to how we will handle any curve balls. We know that we can get through anything. There is a sacred appreciation that comes with a life and a relationship that could have easily not existed. When such a gift is given to you, you treasure it.

I treasure you, AGB.

Life with you pretty much feels like giving a thumbs up on a mountain top with a the sun shining down on us.

Well what do you know...I just happen to have a picture of it!