Life was Amazing with My Much Older Husband—and Then This Changed Everything: Part 2

It turned out that what I had what was called a par­tial molar preg­nancy, where the fetus forms but can’t sur­vive because it doesn’t have the right genetic makeup. The con­di­tion in and of itself comes with a whole new set of problems.

Three weeks later, I ended up need­ing a sec­ond pro­ce­dure to remove the fetus, because the first one failed to get every­thing, caus­ing my body to go into cycles of pain that noth­ing could ease. Kee­gan held me for hours try­ing to help, but noth­ing worked. Because of this, we were not allowed to try get­ting preg­nant again before six months’ worth of weekly blood tests to make sure that the cells left behind didn’t turn into cancer.

Kee­gan was beside him­self with grief. Not only did he find out that we lost what would have been his son, but he also faced the risk of hav­ing to deal with his young wife hav­ing can­cer. He con­sulted with my coun­selor a cou­ple times, just to make sure that what he was expe­ri­enc­ing was normal.

Accord­ing to the doc­tors, every­thing we had gone through was nor­mal; every­thing we were expe­ri­enc­ing was nor­mal for us, for the loss we just endured. So, when I was ready, I went back to work. About two days back on the job I real­ized there was a posi­tion open that offered bet­ter sched­ul­ing for our fam­ily, so I applied and was pro­moted within four days. The alter­na­tive sched­ule allowed me to be home with our child while she was awake and work while she was either sleep­ing or when Kee­gan was able to be home with her. Spend­ing time with our first­born was the only way I would get through the grief of my miscarriage.

Kee­gan and I fig­ured this new work sched­ule would be ideal for rais­ing our kids over the next cou­ple of years, but it meant no social life. Work­ing week­ends has been the norm for me ever since. The shifts are 12 hours on the week­ends and there are two eight-hour day shifts dur­ing the week. Then I’m off for three days straight. Since I had to work (for my own san­ity), this was a much bet­ter arrange­ment. Plus, the boss I would be work­ing under was a par­ent him­self, which made a world of difference.

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About Vivian

I am 26 and my husband 45. At first, our friendship existed mostly online. I was actually helping my now husband with his dating profile when it dawned on me that he was exactly what I was looking for in a perfect life partner. So, I asked him out and we have been together ever since. We now have two daughters together and everyone that knows us will tell you that they simply can’t imagine us apart, and neither can we. I’m no stranger to May-December relationships—my father was 71 and my mother was 33 when I was born. I have never dated a guy my own age. Anything less than 10 years older than me just seems wrong, and frankly, it doesn’t even turn me on in the slightest bit to think about it. It’s actually a turn-off. After going through relationships with a few rich older men, I finally settled down with my husband. I’m sure there were people waging bets on how quickly our marriage would fall apart, but we’re determined to prove them all wrong.