They Never Told Me Children Would Change My Marriage Like This.

Before we had kids, I thought I had a pretty realistic expectation of parenthood. I knew we would sleep less, change diapers, make childcare decisions, and be at the beckon call of tiny humans around the clock. I expected parenthood to change my life, but what I didn’t expect was how quietly it would change my marriage.

Not because we all of a sudden loved each other less, but because children become the first to receive almost everything we have. I’m talking time, attention, patience (and lack thereof), emotional bandwidth, and mostly, our energy.

No one really prepares you for how much of yourself your children require. It’s the kind of love that asks for everything…. and then asks for more. And most days, you gladly give it. But by the end of the day, there’s often very little left.

I said something to a patient recently, and I even surprised I was saying it out loud. I told her, “I give most of my energy to my patients all day. And then the next bit goes to my kids when I get home. Then whatever I have left, goes to me. Which means my husband gets whatever is left of that.” I’m not super proud of this, but if I’m being honest, I think it’s true for a lot of parents.

Not because we don’t love our spouses, but because our energy isn’t infinite.

For many families, another layer is added. In many houses, both parents are working full time. Many women often contributing significantly to the family income, while also carrying a large load of the invisible work that comes with running a home. We spend our days meeting deadlines, solving problems, answering emails, leading teams, seeing patients, teaching students, or caring for patients. Then we come home and immediately have to step into dinner, bedtime routines, baths, and a million tiny tasks that keep a family running. By the time everything is completed and the house is quiet, it’s not uncommon for both people to feel like they’ve lived a full two days.

Now that doesn’t excuse neglecting a marriage, but it does help explain why so many of us feel just absolutely depleted. Sometimes the issue isn’t a lack of love. It’s a lack of energy.

It’s not just our days that look different. Even things that were so simple have changed. Your freedom. Before kids, going away for a weekend meant maybe packing a quick and easy bag. Now it means coordinating childcare, writing schedules, checking calendars, making backup plans, and hoping nothing falls apart. And then even when you’ve planned everything perfectly… you still spend half the trip wondering if everyone is ok! No one really tells you that. Or maybe they do, but it’s something you don’t fully understand until you are living it.

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I was reading The Fourth Trimester, and I came across a sentence that has stuck with me to this day. “At some point during the first year of parenthood, you will hate your spouse.” I immediately read it to Josh and told him, “Well I don’t want us to hate each other?” The book continued to encourage couples and offer them talking points to cover before the baby arrived. I thought it was a little dramatic and remember thinking, “That won’t be us.” But after Pippa was born, there were definitely moments where a bell went off and I thought, “Omg, it’s happening.” It wasn’t because our marriage was failing, but because we were exhausted, overstimulated, and trying our best. The difference was that we had already talked about it. We were able to recognize the season, rather than assuming there was something fundamentally wrong with us. I still very much recommend that book to anyone having a baby.

Now a days, I’ve realized marriage with children is not a rom-com and more a partnership. I didn’t appreciate the idea of partnership as much before kids. Now it’s basically one of the most romantic things there is. Sometimes the most loving thing isn’t a huge gesture, but it’s emptying the dishwasher, taking on bedtime, or giving the other person 30 minutes of alone time because you see them running on empty.

I have a rule. Whenever our family gets on a long flight (usually back to California), I tell Josh the same thing. “We’re on the same team. If shit hits the fan, we are on the same team.” I think that’s become my quiet definition of marriage post kids. Not perfection (ha!). Not endless romance. Good ol’ fashion… partnership. It’s probably not what either of us imagined marriage would look like, but it’s reality. In a season with a three and a half year old, a two year old, and another baby on the way, partnership presents it’s own kind of romance.

Picking your partner is one of the most important decisions you’ll ever make. Marriage is not easy and there will be days where life is incredibly difficult. The seasons where you have very little to give with come and go, but they definitely exist.

I don’t have five foolproof ways to keep your marriage thriving after kids. This is not one of those magazine articles (even though they do still catch my eye). The happiest couples I know don’t seem to have fewer hard days. They just remember over and over again that the problem isn’t each other. They’re simply two people trying to love each other while also raising the people they love the most.

Maybe that’s what no one tells you before you have kids. Marriage doesn’t necessarily stop mattering. It just stops taking care of itself. And it’s up to you and your partner to be intentional about choosing each other, even in the smallest ways, over and over again.