At 19, 11:11 PM brought about hushed whispers over the phone. Newly hatched butterflies filled my stomach while he spoke of a promised future. My grin made my face ache out of pure delight. I continued to hold onto the fleeting moment and anxiously waited for the same time tomorrow night.

At 20, 11:11 PM shone brightly on our brand new alarm clock’s face—perfectly placed on our newly built nightstand from IKEA. Our belongings sparkled as we settled into a new apartment—as we settled into marriage. Love was young and burned passionately. Every morning popped up quickly and the evenings flew by. It was the date night that never ended.

At 21, 11:11 PM was a wish said to the moon and a pleading prayer that the phone would ring. Just ring once, please. The night had just begun. I cradled a newly born baby whose face reminded me of his. The baby stirred. He cried. He needed nursing and comforting. My longing returned each night at the same time and rested on the minute hand. Love was shipped far away in a desert, but I knew the moon shined brighter there.

At 23, 11:11 PM became an alarm that echoed. Its sound? The clamorings from a resistant toddler. It was the second time he got up from bed, and now the new baby begged for nourishment. My husband and I called it the tango of the two siblings, but really, it was more of a tussle. Those little ones won almost every night. The dark circles under my husband’s eyes and mine met. They embraced.

At 26, 11:11 PM meant a lot of prayers. Prayer for morning sickness medication to work, new jobs, and figuring out how we wanted to parent. We didn’t always agree and the late-night hour made connection with each other more tenuous. Yet, he held my hand and changed the bag in the wastebasket every evening. Love grew.

At 29, 11:11 PM meant the latest we would stay up. Our bodies and minds were worn out from day-to-day chores, work, and caring for little ones. We watched the opening of the Office to remind ourselves of the early years when things appeared simpler. We felt more like children trying on adult clothing and playing house, but we were grateful. I had him and he had me. We’ll figure out what refinancing means, the best tax deductions, and making sure we’re putting enough away in our kids’ college funds and retirement. Or we’ll Google it before we watch the next episode on Netflix.

At 32, 11:11 PM indicates that it’s the middle of the night. Tonight, we both have insomnia. “Do you need a glass of water?” He whispers no. Is it possible we need a new mattress? Possibly. It hit me at that moment—we hadn’t gone through our schedule for the next day. We verbalize who will be where at what time and with whom. My eyes droop as we finish discussing it all. All I needed was the reassurance he’d be there for it all.

And he was. Because at 11:11 PM, no matter what it looked like, he was always present in prayer, wastebaskets, and to-do lists. Here’s to many more years of love at 11:11 PM.

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Love Looks Like".