1 Down, 39-ish to Go

My husband's deployment is officially underway and while I am not planning to turn this into a full-on deployment blog, I feel compelled to write about the experience from home. Hopefully one post a week won't be too much to put folks off. Who knows? Maybe you're curious about what it's like for a military family back home. I will do my best to convey what I'm going through.

Before I dive in, I will say that there are certain things I can't say. The military must adhere to strict OPSEC (operational security) rules. Specific information like locations and dates are off limits. I don't even have access to that information. So I can't tell you exactly where my husband is or when he's coming home. What I can tell you is that he's gone and I miss I'm very much.

I've been struggling with this first-week-down post. What's the angle? I want a nice, neat essay about the first week as a home front spouse. I want an uplifting, yet down-to-earth message with clever bookends to amuse and get you thinking. But the fact is that there is no tidy package, no neat bow. There's not even a plain paper gift bag to stuff it in. Week one was all over the map.

The first day I was numb. We said our final goodbye at 1am after waiting around in the cold night for four hours. By that time I just wanted to get in bed already. This thought was immediately followed by extreme guilt, a state well known for military spouses. The self-focus helps us separate and get to the tasks at hand, but it also reminds us that "we" is now "me" and "he" is going through a really rough time. That first night I slept poorly, woke up early and felt groggy and numb most of the day. At least I wasn't sad.

Then I started experiencing a sensation like a vise was implanted in my chest. Throughout the first week it would tighten without warning. I'd inhale sharply as the pang of missing him gripped me. I'd wonder where he was, how he was doing. The vise was always there, waiting to tighten, but it would also loosen so I could function.

I kept busy. That's common advice military spouses give for deployments. "Stay busy. It will go more quickly." But I wanted a chance to slow down. I wanted some down time. I wanted to focus on me. Selfish. Guilt again. And so it was.

Over the following days I felt by turns fine, sad, lonely, bored, guilty, productive, excited, eager, concerned, scared, and even absolutely fine. Week one passed by in a blur. I realized that if I wasn't careful, the whole deployment would fly by, which is good for the missing, but bad for personal productivity. So I decided to measure it out week by week... a little like a pregnancy, I suppose. At the end I won't have a baby (or an extra 60 pounds) to show for it. But I will have... I'm not sure. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll have that pretty little package after all.