Hormones are bullshit.
Long before my diagnosis, my boyfriend and I had decided that we weren’t quite ready for children and so I made the decision to have implanted birth control. Easy peasy, no worries for three years.
Well, that three years was up last week and we had to decide if the time was right to try for babies. Because of the medications I’m on to fight RA, it is IMPERATIVE that I not get pregnant without first discussing it with my doctors. Since my disease is still more unpredictable than managed, we chose to wait a bit longer. Which meant that I needed to go and have the old implant removed and a new one inserted into my arm.
One of the blessings of my particular birth control method is that I don’t have typical monthly PMS. The downside of that is that my hormones went full on bitch crazy last weekend as I awaited the minor procedure scheduled for Monday. To put it lightly, I was not the easiest person to be around.
So imagine my surprise when Wednesday evening my boyfriend came home with a Valentine’s Day present for me. (I hadn’t been very nice to him. Stupid hormones.) Add in the fact that money is pretty tight for us right now and I was shocked to have something to open.
My boyfriend sat me down that night and said I could open my gift early but he wanted to make me a card to be able to read in the morning. Since he knows I’m horrible with suspense and surprises, he knew the odds of me being able to sleep with an unopened present in the house were slim to none.
He presented me with a sweet mug filled with chocolate and I love it!
Thursday morning he handed me the card he had made the night before:
It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever made for me. As I sat the card on my night stand and turned back to him, he opens one of those vending machine plastic eggs and presents me with a ring.
Cue the tears.
He proposed and I said yes and I cried and sniffled while he wrapped me in a bear hug.
We’ve talked about marriage for the last year or so. I’ve always told him I don’t need or want the huge, flashy rings that most girls drool over. He’s held off, wanting to be able to give me that special moment that I’ll always remember.
What he doesn’t know and may never fully be able to grasp is that it wasn’t the size/type of ring or the where that mattered, they still don’t.
It’s the symbol, the memory of the moment, the words that he said, the promise made.
I’ll remember this Valentine’s Day morning for the rest of my life and beyond.
And yes, I’m still over here grinning like a fool in love.