Separation.

The word doesn't seem to do justice to the feelings that go along side it. It doesn't imply (or at least not enough)the endless nights, the heartbreaking goodbyes or that constant ache in the pit of the stomach.

K has been gone for 2 months 1 week and 3 days now. It feels like a lifetime. There are many of my military friends who have been separated for greater lengths than our mere 4.5 months, who have more reason to fear, who have much more responsibilities to take on in their husbands/partners absence and I tip my figurative hat to them.

I am not ashamed to say I am struggling or that I have raced home for a bit of shelter at my mum's. I needed it. I have accepted that. At first I was ashamed, deeply infact, that so many of the other women left behind had managed to do so without any help, being miles away from home with more children and more commitments and I, with just one child and no other commitments than staying in touch with K had ran so quickly for help. I felt I had let myself down, let K down and let our boy down. Now however, I see that it isn't right to compare myself to others, they have different strengths but also different weaknesses. Although I admit I am struggling, I also need to admit that I am coping far better than I thought I would. I thought I would be a shell without K, I thought I would shrink into oblivion, okay so I'm exaggerating a little there but I didn't for one second think that I would be able to go a day without crying. I thought life would be miserable and yes, sometimes it is, sometimes the ache of missing him is unbearable.
I have to be honest, it's the lack of communication that's the worse, the wi-fi out in the sands is shocking (as you can probably imagine) and he doesn't get a lot of time to line up for the phones so daily chats are out of the question. Every few days we'll have a little chat on Facebook, or a 20 minute talk on the phone and I'll forget every single thing that me and P have done over the last few days, and you can put money on it that the burning question I had been waiting to ask him will only pop into my head as I press the end call button. But just hearing what he had for tea that day or how well he did at the last weekly poker match somehow makes everything seems okay again. Hearing the smile in his words when he tells me he got my last package, or the excitement when he talks about our holiday, just knowing that he's okay, that he's coping, that's enough for me. I know we'll survive this deployment. We couldn't not survive it.
Something my Mum keeps saying to me keeps playing on my mind "I don't know how you do it", you see my Mum's in a long distance relationship, her fiance lives about 200 miles from her, she see's him every second weekend for 2 nights and she's asking how I cope. I think that's the thing about seperation, it doesn't matter what the reason is, how big the distance or for how long, it all hurts just the same.

Military Bride

On the 5th of April 2012, I exchanged vows with my soul mate, my best friend, my wonderful soldier in a beautiful little registry office in the town we both called home, in front of all our friends and family.
I didn't have the big posh wedding, or the flowing lace dress I once dreamed of. Unfortunately the dress I imagined didn't look quite right on a bump. I was five months pregnant with my little boy the day I married Kris.
The lead up to the wedding was so stressful and emotional. Kris was in Germany until the week before the wedding. So organising suits and picking colour schemes became completely my responsibility. Where I should have been showing him ties and matching waist coats, I was describing them during our once a week phone call or trying to squeeze as much information and questions into our Facebook messages.
The distance wasn't the only thing that made the planning so hectic though. Due to alot of uncertainty with leave dates and wanting to be living together before our litte boy was born, we finally set a date in march, leaving us 3 weeks to plan the entire occasion.
Thankfully we had all the support in the world. All our friends and family stepped up and helped in anyway they could. I have so many people to thank that if I started to name them I would still be writing in a weeks time. But as most brides would probably say, I don't think I would have survived the planning if it hadn't been for my mum. Sitting up til the early hours searching eBay for bargain dresses, running me around for dress fittings and shoe shopping. But mostly for listening to my endless tears about how much I missed my fiancé and how nervous I was about giving up my life there to become a wife and a mother in another country. She talked me through every hormonal breakdown and every irrational fear and for that I will always be grateful that I have such a wonderful mum.

So although I didn't have the year long planning most brides get, and there was no chance of slimming down for my dream dress, and even though our reception was in the lovely little pub that I worked in rather than a big posh manor house. I can honestly say with my whole heart that my wedding was perfect.
From the borrowed range rover as a wedding car to the eBay bought bridesmaids dresses, to the second hand wedding rings, my dad walking me down the isle with pride in his kilt, the vows, the beautiful speeches, the party atmosphere, just everything was so perfectly us. But above all of it getting back to the hotel (a wedding present from one of the guests) and ordering a pizza from our favourite greasy take away will always be my favoroite memory of the day. I had never felt so exhausted and so at peace with the world. We layed together, eating pizza in bed, reading the beautiful words our loved ones had wrote in our guest book. Then, still in my wedding dress and Kris still in his suit, we fell asleep together, our first night as man and wife and we held each other, even in our deep sleep, until the morning.
So you see my wedding wasn't a glamorous affair followed by a night of passion and an exotic honeymoon, but it was filled with everything we truly loved and there isnt a second of it that I would change.

And so began our new journey as husband and wife, my new journey as a military spouse.

You see I didnt only marry my husband that day, I also married the army, which might sound a little cliche but in the last 9 months I have realised how true it is.
You see being an army wife is far more complicated than I ever have imagined. Nine months on and I still feel like a civi thrown onto camp for the first time.
I struggle to understand the rank system, I still expect to be introduced to someone by their first name and I still have trouble hiding my frustration when the army's plans don't allow for mine.
What I have learnt though is that the army doesn't have the time or resources to care about the plans you have for your six month anniversary, or that your wife is homesick or your nan is Ill. I have learnt not to plan anything in too much detail as at any point it is likely to change. That higher ranks who know nothing about you will have more control over your family life than you do and that a two week separation while your husband is on excercise is nothing.

But while my life is unrecognisable to the one I led last year, the moments of sitting in front of the telly with my husband and my beautiful baby boy make every thing else fade away.

Not so long ago on a visit back in England my uncle asked me how I was liking living out in Germany, how was I finding being a "squaddie wife" and when I told him that I loved it, he told me that it was okay I could be honest. So far this has been the reaction of most of my friends and family.
I couldn't seem to do my life justice to my uncle, I couldn't find the words to describe how honestly happy I am.
And let's be Frank, how the hell could I find something to be unhappy about?
I have the most caring and loving husband anyone could ask for, a beautiful and happy little boy. I live in a lovely little flat in a country that I would probably have never been if not for this life and all this before my 22nd birthday.

I love the uniform my husband puts on every morning, the smell of oil when he gets home. I love the separations for the reunions, the times you expect the worst to be surprised by the worst. I love living away from my family because I appreciate them more when I see them. And I love the uncertainty of our future, it's so exciting to wonder were in the world this life could take us.


I am proud of my life, of my husband and of my son.
I am proud to be a R.E.M.E wife.

I am proud of my life, of my husband and my son.
And I always say with the greatest pride, that I love being a military wife.