I promise to cherish you as long as I live...

My wedding vows are framed. Judge Payton, the JOP who married Michael and me, gave me the actual page he read from the day Michael and I got married. I meant those vows. I meant every word. I still do.

Michael and I were in the middle of planning a big wedding when I learned I was pregnant. I had picked out a dress and a venue and my colors and bridesmaids. Then we found out I was pregnant (with Anabel), and we scrapped it all. Instead, I wore a $15 dress from Ross, we got married at the Collin County Justice of the Peace office, and my maid-of-honor was a girl I had met the day before. My mother-in-law-to-be made me a (very beautiful) bouquet, and my aunt paid for me to have my nails done all in red to match my dress. We had lunch at Fuddruckers after the ceremony, and we went to a little room in Mesquite (which my mother-in-law had decorated) for our honeymoon night.

In short, it was perfect. No huge, showy, dramatic affair. Just us. Just us declaring our love for each other and pledging to be there for one another for all time.

When Michael and I started trying to work things out this time, I sent a text message to his best friend asking him to help me let go of the things Michael and I had done to one another during the separation. His best friend told me, "I saw the love in both of your eyes at your wedding. That's something you only see a couple of times in life."

Michael and I are still struggling to find our footing after all this mess. He is, hands down, the absolute love of my life. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

Michael, if you read this, I'm here, and I want you and only you. You are my best friend, the father of my children, and the only person in the world who I want to grow old with. Here's hoping that you'll be sitting next to me in that rocking chair when we're 90 and 88 years old. You are my husband, and I hope you will be my husband forever.