I start my morning how I normally start them; kissing Kameron awake and then cooking us breakfast. I throw his uniforms in the washer and make a double shot of espresso because today isn’t a normal day. Today is intern day and I need all the caffeine I can get. Intern day is the one day a year that I hate beyond comparison. It is the day where God continuously gives me a bunch of idiot “doctors” to weed out the qualified and lay the rest to bed.

While the breakfast-bake I cooked last night heats up in the oven, I work out for 20 minutes on the stationary bike, shower, pour another shot of espresso, scroll through last night’s social media posts, do my makeup, and then wait for my husband to completely awaken from his slumber. I don’t bother with my hair though. Nowadays masks are a requirement day in and day out at the hospital. I either settle for a side braid or a low bun because it’ll get messed up anyways. Today it’s a braid.

My everyday look is simple. It’s normal. I don’t have to put in much effort because I don’t have to impress anyone but myself. The only reason I wear makeup (well eyebrow makeup) is because without it, I don’t have eyebrows nor facial expressions. Lord willing, today I will be relying on my facial expressions.

“Good morning,” Kam’s groggy voice says as he walks up behind me and places a few kisses along my neck. I set my phone down on the counter and turn into him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I woke you up over an hour ago,” I smile, teasing him. He’s on rotation this week at the unit and his sleep schedule is a complete nightmare. He’s been doing this for years, but I don’t think he will ever get into the habit of the one week a month that throws him off.

“Tomayto, tomahto,” he grins. “At least I’m awake now.”

I smile and run my hand down the side of his cheek.

“Are you sure you have to work a double tonight?” I ask, knowing he won’t be home when I get back from hell. He’s been spending a lot of time at the station lately. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I miss my husband when he’s not around. He is my world. Without him, life is dull. I’m selfish when it comes to him devoting his time to others.

“Don’t let them get the best of you,” he says, trying to get me to lighten up, and to change the subject. “I’m only a phone call away and you know it won’t be as bad as you think.”

He leans down and presses his lips softly to my temple. I close my eyes and think about how grateful I am. We’ve come a long way in the past thirteen years. I’ve came a long way in the past thirteen years. Kameron is my saving grace.

“You are incredible,” he says, tightening his arms around me. “You are the mastermind who they choose every year to help lead the youth. Be a Miranda Bailey in a sense, if you must.” I love when he compares me to some of my all-time favorite TV characters.

“I feel like each year turns me more and more into her,” I reply matter-of-factly, not that I could ever compare to her intelligence. I’m no longer the delicate flower people step on though. I now have thorns that will leave you sore for days.

“You are fierce, and you are strong. There is no reason you cannot be your own version of her. You are Mya Clarke, and you are stellar.”

I chuckle at his remark.

“You’re always hyping me up, babe,” I say, leaning up and reconnecting our lips. His hands dig into my waist, and I smile into the kiss. He drops one hand and reaches below the string of my scrubs. For a moment, I part my lips and take in the way my body reacts to him. I will never in my lifetime get enough of Kameron. Physically or emotionally.

“I’m going to be late,” I say, pushing my chest into him to give him a little tease, but pull away.

“I can be quick,” he replies, grabbing my face and connecting our lips, forcefully taking dominance. I fade into bliss but start laughing as I regain consciousness. I push my hands on his chest and push him back further.

“Maybe if you’d stop working so much, we could try for a baby.”

He gives me a look of dismay, but he won’t tell me the truth. I know he’s hiding something from me, but he won’t tell me what it is just yet. He admitted to me last night that he’s helping a friend through a hard time, but he won’t tell me who. I’m sure it’s a brother’s code or something at the station, but I know he wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t believe he was helping. So, I will continue to call his late nights “work” to help him feel better about the situation. Kameron does everything for a reason and I know there is a beautiful story that will one day be told to make up for our lost time.

In the meantime, a family is something that has always been a hopeful happy ending for us. My PCOS has made fertility slim to none. I joined Weight Watchers in college, balanced out my hormones with natural elements over the years, and have currently been getting IVF treatments. Kameron’s dream is to be a dad, and even though he tells me if us having our own baby isn’t in our cards, he will love anyone the same. We’ve told ourselves if we cannot get pregnant by the end of the year this year, we will start the adoption process, no matter how long that takes. We will make our own family, one way or another. I pray every night that our dream of being parents will come true. Kameron deserves to be a father. He has enough love inside of him to be a dad to hundreds.

“We could try right now,” he smiles. I laugh at his mischief.

“Nice try,” I say, stepping back and opening the fridge. I gather my lunch and pack it inside my lunch kit.

“When was your last period?” he asks me, stopping me in my tracks. I think for a second and try to remember the last time I marked my period in my planner.

“A few weeks back. I think I should be getting it this week,” I conclude. He bites his lip and raises his eyebrows.

“We could be hopeful,” he says, implying I may be late.

“We just started treatment,” I reply. “We can’t be that hopeful just yet.”

Shaking his head, he walks over to the bar and sits down to begin eating his breakfast.

“I’ll always be hopeful,” he smiles. I shake my head but turn away. This is a conversation we have daily, and I always feel like I am less than a woman for not being able to readily start a family with him.

I finish packing my lunch and then pack his. I handwrite him a note that says, “I am too,” while he finishes eating. It’s not that I’m not hopeful, I just don’t want to get let down.

I fill a to-go coffee cup and grab my bag, lunch kit, and extra shoes. Walking to the door, I hear Kameron behind me.

“One day, this conversation will be so far in the past and all we will have is a smiling bundle of joy that makes us remember why it’s important to have faith.”

“I have faith, Kameron,” I say, turning around and walking straight into him. He pushes me back against the wall and passionately kisses me, proving to me that our faith is what will get us through this.

“Our faith will help us move mountains.”

I smile at his cheesy verses. Every day is a new day and every day, Kameron delivers a new inspirational quote. I swear God knew what he was doing when he gave me Kameron. My life would not be the same without his daily devotionals.

“I love you,” I say, kissing him again.

“I love you,” he says, pulling back and staring straight into my soul with his bright orbs. He may want to move mountains, but I could spend forever lost in his sea of green.

“Colleen Hoover released a new book yesterday. I packed it in your bag for your break. You’re welcome,” he grins. My heart pulses with joy. Of course, my husband bought me Colleen Hoover’s new book. Of course, he did.

I place my hand on his cheek and smile like the love-struck idiot I am. Every day is a better day. Every day is a new wave of happiness. Every day is one step closer to forever.