It was a year ago I sat in a hot bath with my pounding belly like an island in the water. The baby of my body was a goldfish, swimming about in the fish tank of my flesh. As he flipped about I became in love. It was a prayer.
"Heavenly Father, I am in love."
In that instant of praying and loving I also understood. The best of souls know that falling in love is imperative to growth, and it must happen continually. Emotions that accompany affection keep our spirits alive. The hope, the fears, the perpetual vulnerability, the anxiety.
It started for me in the fourth grade (though I am sure Freud will tell me it started much earlier). The new boy in our classroom had freckles that matched my own, and I wanted more than anything for his new desk to touch corners with mine. From there it progressed from person to person, high school, college, beyond. Until I met Chup who held my interest like none other human I had met. I wanted to know everything about him, from what towel he used to dry after showering and every girl he had ever kissed.
I continue to be enraptured with my husband, he will always be a small mystery to me. There are parts of his past that I will never understand because I am out of historical context. I hope for a lifetime to discover him fully and piece together his personal puzzle. This I count as my premiere blessing.
But in that watery think tank, I was learning a new way to fall in love. An entirely unique courtship and wooing reserved for woman and child. His impending birth brought sensations to me resembling the enchantment I had felt before in past relationships. But now it was all-encompassing, along with God, I was his creator. His puzzle pieces fit inside of me.
Now, a year later I see that I am hopeless. Every day delivers a new baby who is more intelligent, more powerful and handsome than twenty four hours before. I can't keep up. I wonder how much my infatuation can inflate over the span of my lifetime. I calculate how I can rope in the best of this world to hand to him on a silver platter. I try to read his future in the palms of his little hands. I am eager to know him better.
Which is to say, that all of this keeps my soul alive. Being entirely in love with two men at the same time is my health plan. It is my exercise, my weight loss, my vitamins A, B and C. I am a small sample of polyandry, and for me it works.
There are many ways to continually fall in love. Some move from partner to partner as initial steam evaporates. Some spouses find outside interests who can create sparks for their dying fire. But I am learning that passion for a faithful spouse, infused with the creation of little humans (whether from your flesh, or one given to you) is cosmic.
I must remember this: it is worth the pain in trying to obtain. The hopeless and the hopeful moments all have meaning and purpose. No matter how many times it happens, I will never regret emotion spent on falling in love.