My husband and I made some important decisions in the last few weeks. After many months of deployments it seems that he has to go for one year of training for the new aircraft he’ll pilot. The training is split in two different locations and once he’s done he’ll more than likely deploy again.

Unfortunately, he only has a couple of weeks when he gets back from Iraq and then he is off again. Hubby has insisted that the family go with him at least to one location because we have a chance to be together.

I resisted the idea uprooting all six kids, getting settled in new schools, or maybe even home-schooling for the few months we are with him, to then move again seemed impossible.

The hardest part of this minor ordeal has been trying to communicate on a regular basis. Whenever we are able to speak we try to squeeze everything into a short conversation. This isn’t the best way to make decisions and we have had numerous tense discussions about our plans.

I started to resent my husband’s request that we move with him and felt that he couldn’t possibly understand where I was coming from or how hard it would be for me to move six children seven-years-old and under, including one of them, Matteo, with special needs and health issues.

Perhaps the last few weeks of my pregnancy coupled with my husband’s long absence, made me edgier — to say the least.

I felt stuck.

Nothing could have helped me make my decision and adopt a more cheery attitude than my oldest daughter coming into my room at 6:00 a.m. yelling that “there are some Air Force guys outside our door.”

Not good. Definitely not good.

I jumped out of bed and my first thought was that something happened to my husband, that he was probably dead. It was bizarre how I felt completely detached from any emotion but proceeded to put my clothes on and go by the door to greet my visitors.

It turned out that these two Airmen dressed in their blues came to tell me that a bear had knocked down our garbage and that food and diapers were flying all over the place including around our cars. We’ve had problems with a black bear visiting our neighborhood. And even though it was very early, I was glad for their promptness in offering to help and in cleaning up the whole mess.

After they left, I seemed to have no problems making my decision. If something had happened to my husband, our family’s lives would have changed in ways that I don’t even want to imagine. If I have a chance for our family to be together I have to go for it, even if it means facing a logistical nightmare.

I am grateful to have the opportunity to choose whether to go with him or not and with my new resolve I felt a rush of emotions for him, the hard work he puts in, and our many blessings.

Because truthfully, one day I may very well get the knock on the door, or the phone call from the hospital, or the visit by the sheriff at my door, and I may regret that I didn’t seize every moment I had with the people I love.