I don’t remember ever feeling so embarrassed in a public place.
As eyes fell upon us, staring, my face turned a deep shade of blush. I felt caught in the act, and wanted to bury my head in the ground.
After all, it must have seen so absurd.
There Cliff was, kneeling down next to me in a public place, removing and putting on shoes for me, in a grand Cinderella moment.
Seeing how my growing bump had made it challenging for me to bend over in close proximity at times, my husband had, without prompting, knelt down swiftly to help me try on a pair of winter boots, much needed before the anticipated snowstorms arrived.
My bump hasn’t always been obvious, so I could understand why we had attracted stares. And even with a bigger bump, this must not be a common sight.
As I asked him to get up, he would not, only doing so when the job was done, with his signature grin on his face. How my face swelled with heat.
Yet, a different kind of warmth arose from within me, gently overpowering that in my cheeks.
In that moment, I suddenly realized what he had done. In his act of humility, love and servanthood, he had redefined what being a husband meant.
Suddenly, a roll of memories flashed through my mind, as acts of his tender service played out: not merely the usual “husbandish” things a father-to-be would do for his expecting wife- doing the dishes and laundry, offering to fulfill her peculiar gastronomic cravings, sending her to work… but more.
Him, on his knees, smiling cheekily, taking off his wife’s shoes in spite of what people might say or think, epitomized his husbanding.
“Husband,” when used as a verb, means “to use frugally; conserve” as in “to husband one’s resources.”
It all made sense to me at once, why people kept commenting on why and how I didn’t look tired, bloated or nauseated during our pregnancy. It made me realize I was expected to look and feel that way, but did not.
With the major transitions of 1 job change, moving into 2 homes over 2 continents, travels to 7 countries, and the seismic changes pregnancy would bring us through, I had imagined pregnancy to take its toll on me.
But it suddenly dawned upon me, what a difference Cliff’s redefinition of being a husband made, that in “husbanding” me the way he did, with his manner of meticulous love and humble service, he had in fact, conserved, sustained, nourished and grown his wife.
I had imagined pregnancy in the midst of several major transitions to exert great strains on our relationship.
Yet, he proved me wrong, causing me to marvel at the profound impact the prayers of a praying husband has on his wife and family.
Through the past 9 months, he has prayed for the two of us every day, at least twice a day. His prayers have not only transformed my countenance, shaped our journey ahead, but have moulded his thoughts and actions as a husband and father.
Our pregnancy should have been dreadful.
I should have had worsening mood symptoms with the raging pregnancy hormones, what with a history of depression; my scoliosis back pain should have worsened; I should have been drained working full-time, speaking at different public platforms, and packing an entire home on our own back in Singapore.
Yet, the hallmark of our pregnancy has been an inexplicable joy which continues to confound us, day by day. It has been a delicious journey, one I will be nostalgic to have end very soon.
I am learning, that when a husband takes on pregnancy to be as much his charge as his wife’s through prayer and acts of humble service, it makes a profound difference on the journey. When he sees his leadership as a liberating opportunity for servanthood through prayer and service, it changes everything. When his bended knee takes on regularity in a marriage instead of only at a proposal before the wedding, transformation takes place.
Every pregnant woman is familiar with the “down days”- insensitive comments which scathe, feeling ugly, not being able to do the things she once could…
But a husband’s love, like a salve, soothes them; his sensitivity, like a warm bear-hug, cradles his wife’s new curves; his gentle humour, like a balm, soothes her aches, hurts and discomforts.
His prayers lift her spirits to a God who is ever-hearing and ever-seeing.
His prayers morph into little acts of profound thoughtfulness- unabashedly admiring his wife’s bump when she’s feeling insecure about her changing body, shopping for dresses on her behalf because she doesn’t feel beautiful, helping her ease heartburn and insomnia in the wee hours of the night, doing the laundry when she’s napping, reading piles of books about parenting and breastfeeding so she never feels alone, insisting on giving her a back rub, and patiently moisturizing her skin every day, twice a day.
His prayers anchor a journey of a lifetime ahead, in spite of the instability, uncertainty and fluctuation of pregnancy and transitions-to-come.
When a husband husbands that way, a wife has no choice but to grow and glow into each passing trimester of pregnancy till she blossoms.
So thank you Cliff, for making pregnancy double the fun I expected, half the discomfort, and twice the joy. Thank you for redefining “husbanding.”
I can’t wait to have Number Two together with you.
