I have been writing this post for about three years.
And today I get to write it.
Back when Derek started at K-State, a friend warned me "The dissertation will take years."
She was trying to help me. Her husband had recently finished his PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy, and she was just trying to get me prepared.
And I poo-pooed her. NO! It can not take years. I'll lose my darn head. He must get done with a swiftness.
Instead, we moved half a dozen times.
Derek has had tons of jobs, and work and school all squeezed together.
Then Derek's major professor died, suddenly.
We had two more babies.
And last week, we had FINALLY reached the end.
Derek flew to Kansas and defended his dissertation like a champ. LIKE A CHAMP.
And they passed him. EXCITEMENT.
Except... there was glitch.
There was further work required of him, that no one could have foreseen. It was despair unimaginable.
But my smart husband refused to quit. He worked, he schmoozed.
Today, he was told "Congratulations. You're a doctor."
And what did I do upon hearing the news?
What any good, supportive, pregnant wife would do.
I bawled like a baby.
And I cried.