I rarely talk about my marriage, but I feel the need to share my story as a way of therapy. If you're not interested in love stories gone awry, I advise you to stop reading here. Or if you can relate to my story, maybe you would feel okay sharing in the comments.

I was married only a year and a half before I unexpectedly had a massive and devastating stroke when I was 31 in 2008. My ex-husband (whom we'll call Brad) and I were happily married and deeply in love after meeting when we were 28. It was seemingly a match made in heaven, although somewhat unlikely for a pharmacist and an elementary teacher to fall in love. We did everything together. We also lived an adventurous lifestyle. We backpacked 10 days through ANWR in northern Alaska's Brooks Range for our honeymoon in 2007. We rafted, hiked, backpacked, snow-machined, competed in races, and fished across our state. He learned how to fly my family's plane and I learned how to keep up with him on his winter trapline. We were just as passionate about our active lifestyle as we were about our jobs and each other. We eventually went on to win awards in our respective fields. Our next step was to start a family after I got my Master's. Only I never did get my Master's as planned in the spring of 2009. And I didn't have a baby.

What I did have was a massive right hemispheric stroke while I was teaching in my classroom in October of 2008. It came as a complete surprise as I was healthy, young and strong. My students saved my life and it wasn't before long that I was in an ambulance to the hospital where my husband worked. Brad met my parents there and they all came into the ER room with me. A quick CT scan confirmed I had had a stroke. The ER doctor gave me TPA, but to no avail because my right internal carotid artery had completely dissected. The ER doctor and the internist agreed to send Brad and me to a bigger hospital in the state. My parents and brothers met us there the next day. I was in ICU for 6 days with a feeding tube and around the clock care. My brothers were permitted to sit by my side during the night hours while Brad and my parents rested. It was eventually decided I needed the care from a bigger hospital, so Brad and I once again were on a flight with a medic crew, this time from Alaska to Seattle. My parents and one of my brothers made the trek to Seattle within 24 hours, and we were once again reunited. It was there in that Seattle hospital that we learned my personality had changed, although it wasn't all bad at first...just different. The stroke had not only wreaked havoc on my physical and cognitive well-being, but it all but destroyed my emotional well being. When I wasn't crying I was laughing. I was determined to recover and return to my classroom for the spring semester. I was accustomed to hard work, and I honestly believed that since I mastered the art of flying, I could master what was required of me in all my therapies (how wrong I had been!).

Brad, my parents, brother and I flew home on the day I was discharged from the hospital (two months after my stroke). Over the course of the following 2 and a half years, Brad and I argued..a lot. I was so headstrong and honestly couldn't recognize how the stroke had changed my personality. I had stroke-induced ADD, OCD and was extremely impulsive, not to mention was emotionally labile. Brad was equally headstrong, thinking he always knew what was best for me. We went to marital counseling for two years, but in August of 2011, Brad had enough and decided to file for divorce. I didn't agree to it, but I eventually went along with him, naively with the hopes that we would eventually get back together. The divorce was finalized in November. My hopes of spending time with him were dashed when he started dating someone he worked with in December. Between November 2011 and August 2012, I continued my therapies and felt like my heart was starting to heal as my body and brain healed. I had regained control of my emotions, and managed to change all the undesirable behaviors for the better. Then in August 2012, Brad called me to apologize for divorcing me. He also said he missed me, loved me and wished we were still together. I was speechless. He asked for my forgiveness, to which I said I forgave him. I then spent the last year grieving the end of my marriage, because I knew that even though he had told me those things, he couldn't have been serious (his girlfriend was still living with him).

On Sunday, Brad called me to let me know that he and his girlfriend are expecting a baby in January. He wanted to tell me "before I heard it through the grapevine." I congratulated him and told him I'm happy for them (which I am because children are so precious). So I was at the clinic today and saw his girlfriend, happy and pregnant. She was talking to some other medical staff (that I had been friends with when Brad and I were married). I walked by, made eye contact and smiled at one of those former friends. She ignored me. Now, I've chosen to be happy for Brad and his girlfriend. I've got no complaints. I'm pleased with where my life is going, but I'll admit I'm feeling a tinge of sadness. I know the feeling will pass, and I'll continue to move on in this beautiful life of mine. But for now I'm recognizing this sadness for what it is: just another small speed bump.