The last week and a half has been hell. Can’t and won’t sugar coat it. My entire household was struck down with that ol chestnut, Influenza A. I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy, as the saying goes.

Nelson was patient zero, however he tried to shrug it off as allergies. We’re dead set in the middle of winter Nelson, what allergies? *insert face smack emoji*. The next one down was Ariya, my 4 year old. For a kinder goer, her immune system ain’t bad, but this got her good. Poor darling had a fever for 8 consecutive days. Two days into being better, she perforated her ear drum. You can’t make this shit up.

Eva, our 1.5 year old, luckily got it very mildly. No fevers and just mild symptoms. God loves me. Then, of course, there was me, who my mate Damien likes to tease, has the immune system of an infant. I was the last soldier to fall, and fall hard I did. I was in bed with a fever for 6 days, and thank the good Lord I’m finally on the mend. I think Nelson is rejoicing most, because he wore the caretaker pants and himself had to take days off work to look after us all.

Being sick and stuck in bed for so long, makes you think, a lot. Mostly about how guilty I feel for being sick. How guilty I feel that my husband had to help me so much. Guilty that he can’t get any rest himself. Guilty that I can’t give him any respite. Then I feel lucky. Lucky that he helps me so much. Lucky that he wants to. Lucky he’s my husband.

I hear it all the time from my friends and family. “You’re so lucky to have Nelson. You’re so lucky he helps you with the kids. You’re so lucky he helps you with the housework”, and in comparison to other husbands, I can’t deny that yes, I am in fact lucky I have a husband who is so ‘hands on’. If the criteria of lucky was based on the traditional gender role expectations for wives and husbands.

Yet on the flipside, the feminist in me also hates to admit that I am lucky. Isn’t this what all wives should be entitled to? A partner in every sense of the word? Otherwise how are they any different to the children you’re caring for?

Before I dive deeper into that, it can’t go without saying that my husband is amazing. He is exactly what I needed even when I didn’t know what my deepest needs were.

When I think back to the ‘boys’ (intentional use of the word here) I thought I wanted as my life partners, I’m further amazed at how right for me Nelson is, and how wrong for me they were. Before marrying Nelson, I thought the important attributes in a man for me were someone who was (financially) successful. Someone with a specific look and sense of style. Someone who shared my love for music and the arts. Someone cultured etc. etc.

That’s not to say that Nelson isn’t those things in his own way, just not that way in the obvious sense of the words.

He was however more of a man than anyone I knew. He was the man I needed in ways I knew I needed, but didn’t equate to a romantic partner. When I’m sick, or in any way out of action, I’m further reminded of the fact that what I need above all else is a partner who shows up for me emotionally AND physically. Who without question, rolls up his sleeves and takes on the role of caregiver and homemaker. Without complaint. He cares for the kids. He cares for me. He cares for the house. I can rest easy knowing that I have the luxury of laying in bed and allowing my body to restore, because I have a true partner making sure everything is attended to in my absence. Even if he has spent the entire day out of the house working a manual job.

Albiet, with 80% instruction from me (haha), he’s still HAPPY to do it because he knows, he believes that this is his role too. Not mine alone.

I know generations of ‘men’ are slowly changing, and we’re seeing more and more men like Nelson who give credit to their stay at home wives. Nelson, who proudly correct others that his wife has the harder job than him, being the ‘stay at home mum’. I know we’re starting to see a change of mindset when it comes to the roles of the wives and husbands. But it’s not changing fast enough. I can’t explain the amount of times I’ve had ‘defensive’ conversations with loved ones over who’s role is what?

Are the children not ours together? Is the home not ours together? Why should men be excused of not having to help out in those areas? And why should I feel lucky that I have a man that understands what’s our is ours equally, and hence should be cared for equally.

I’m torn, because I do want to always acknowledge and be thankful to Nelson for all that he does for our family. For all the help I get, that I know others don’t. But I think being grateful and thankful is different to lucky. I didn’t get lucky. I worked hard for the man I found. I worked hard for the life we’ve built together. I worked and sacrificed damn bloody hard to create the family (literally) that we have. It’s not luck that I have a man that acknowledges it, it’s good choosing! I chose well! I chose a man that was EVERYTHING in MY sense of the word.

I chose a man that aligned with what is important for me as a partner. I chose a man who I knew would be that for me. So it’s not luck that my husband helps me in these specific ways. It’s what I needed, so that’s what I chose. Others needs, others values are different to mine. Where they aren’t as hands on as my husband, they may excel differently, and excel the way YOU need. Which is why you chose the way you did.

At our core, we all know what we need, what we want, what we don’t want and what we won’t AND will tolerate. Your man is all of that, so you too are lucky in ways I am not, because I just chose differently according to what was important to me.

So yes, my husband is amazing. I’m always even MORE grateful for him during times I’m practically lifeless (which with my immune system, is more often than I’d like). But am I lucky, no. I’m worthy and I’m deserving of the ‘help’ I get. Afterall, it takes 2 to create our family and our life, so it should take 2 to preserve, nurture and tend to it.

Today, I’m grateful for my husband. I’m also reminded of the significance of good health, and I’ll aim to never take that for granted.

This is excerpt 7.