Having a child with special needs, or who is "heavily involved" as we like to say in the industry of paediatric health care can really, really take its toll on a marriage. You work so hard to keep it together, to make sure your child is getting everything he needs. Then there are you other children - are they getting enough of you? Are they resentful that so much focus is placed on their sibling? And your spouse... how is he coping in all of this? And after you've taken care of everyone else, how you doin' mom?? You feeling like putting on something slinky, touching up your makeup and slipping on your f*ck me shoes? Right. Me too.
It's work. It's work I want to do. I'm lucky that I'm married to my best friend. I love him and I respect him and I find him very interesting and sexy. And when I have my child's poop running down my arm and I'm holding his wailing body tight to me, sh!t and all, I have to remember that it's me this time, but last time it was Scott. He is my partner in this. He is one of the strongest men I know. He laughs with me on the hard days. Takes shifts with me on the nights when our kids tag team us, and happily orders take out when he sees that I have nothing left. And if I say "Not tonight honey" he understands and just tries again tomorrow.