Life is for Living in the Moment
- Melanie Nelson
- Jun 18, 2025
- 11 min read
Updated: Aug 12, 2025
Lessons from the First 6 Months of Marriage
I really love being married. If anyone asks, I 10/10 recommend. Gavin is just the best, and I adore him more and more everyday, but the Enemy really tried to derail us right off the bat. Since we were married in August of 2024, we have dealt with an unusual amount of stress.
In October, health issues that I have been dealing with since 2021 spiraled down to an all time low. For a couple months, I could barely eat. Once my health insurance kicked in at the start of 2025, we immediately, intensively pursued healing.
Then in February, Gavin got into a pretty major car accident. Miraculously, he only walked away with a mild concussion (I thanked God every day for about a month). Thankfully, it didn’t total his truck either, but it needed serious repairs. After we got the truck back, its transmission failed within a week. We knew that it would need replacing in the future, but we didn’t think it would be right after the car accident repairs.
This, in addition to all the doctors’ visits (for both of us), put a heavy financial strain on us. To say it has been a lot is an understatement—I believe the Enemy has targeted us not just financially, but relationally as well. Almost every single planned date was consistently interrupted by either my health issues, Gavin's health issues, or a car accident (which by the way, happened on Valentine’s Day). Despite the physical and financial strain we’ve endured, we have only grown closer—to each other and to our family. If the Enemy has just been attempting to drive us apart early on, he has failed.
We had support from our family in many ways: financially and physically. And I am so grateful to everyone who stepped up and helped us. You know who you are.
Even more importantly, Gavin and I learned to rely on each other for support. Lord knows we both need it.
That’s all in hindsight though. While all of this was going on, we unintentionally turned our house into a zoo. I can now see clearly that we weren't ready for pets to enter our house.
My husband and I are big animal lovers. I remember begging my parents for a dog growing up. Eventually, when I was eight years old, they brought a golden retriever puppy into our family, and I absolutely adored her. Gavin loves dogs, but his heart is more of an avian enthusiast. He has owned several birds over the course of his life. Needless to say, we were ecstatic at the thought of being able to choose our own pets together.
But here’s the thing: Timing is crucial.
You could do everything right, choose the perfect pet and train it to be well behaved, but if the timing is off, then something won’t feel quite right.
There is such a thing as the right thing at the wrong time.
I learned this lesson the hard way when we invited not one, not two, but three pets into our house only a month after we were married. As you probably can imagine, that didn’t end up going very well. With life refusing to let us breathe for a moment, the animals did not bring us peace. In fact, they steadily added to the growing stress I was feeling every day.
In early October, we brought home a sweet Dachshund puppy we named Percy. He was adorable and sweet as pie, but an absolute anxious wreck. He clung to me so intensely, I couldn’t walk without stumbling over him. We trained and trained and trained him, but it was exhausting. I’m not used to being unprepared, especially in an avenue of interest, but I did not expect training a puppy to be so hard. I thought because Dachshunds were smart, they’d be easier to train. That, unfortunately, is not necessarily the case.
Gavin brought home a cockatiel about a month after Percy came home, which turned into another disaster. Turns out, the cockatiel was a male, and if you don’t know this, male cockatiels are loud (girls usually aren’t). He would spend an entire day screeching, and I work from home, so I was forced to just absorb that constant, absurdly loud noise for hours on end.
I try not to lay down the overstimulated card often, but oh my gosh. It was too much. It was like my home wasn’t a quiet, peaceful, safe space anymore. My distaste for that bird bubbled up so fast, I had to tell Gavin, who graciously understood (despite his disappointment). We took the bird back, then tried again with another (hopefully female) cockatiel, which also turned out to be a male. The cycle repeated, only this time, we were actually going to test the next two to know for sure what gender they were. The results revealed both of them to be male again. The mere odds of that finally made us stop and ask ourselves if this was a sign God was trying to get our attention.
Additionally, when Gavin brought home his cockatiel, I found what I thought was the bunny of my dreams. Spoiler alert: She turned into the bunny of my nightmares. She was one of the cutest Holland Lops I’d ever seen, but she was a little demon in a lagomorph’s body. She was aggressive—I didn’t even know how territorial a bunny could be before I met her. She had no interest in bonding, no matter how hard I tried (and I tried everything people recommend). Nothing worked. She just wasn’t interested in me. Even after spaying her, her aggression didn’t ebb. I was very upset, but somehow still hopeful that she would stop lunging for my hand when I fed her.
I’m a morning person—have been for several years now—and my favorite thing to do in the early morning is make a cup of tea, turn on a relaxing morning ambience, and curl up on the couch. Sometimes, I’ll read. Other times, I’ll journal or write. And sometimes, I just sit there with my thoughts or pray.
But with three pets in the house, mornings became a long list of chores. Someone had to take the puppy out before he wet himself. Gavin had to feed and water the bird. Someone had to feed the dog. I had to clean the bunny cage and feed her. Then someone had to let out the dog again before he pooped on the floor. And that’s not including all the times Percy refused to go to the bathroom outside, or when my bun would zoom around to avoid being picked up so I could clean her cage. In an instant, my chill mornings were replaced with a long list of chores.
After a few months of this, Gavin noticed that I wasn’t happy. I should’ve been, and I wanted to be, but I wasn’t. And no amount of trying was going to change that. Eventually, he sat me down and told me we had to either get rid of both the bird and bun, or Percy. I felt like I was being torn. I thought I had everything I wanted, so why wasn’t I satisfied?
I wasn’t satisfied because I wasn’t focusing on the right thing: Gavin and our marriage. We just got married. Our life together is only beginning to blossom, but we couldn’t enjoy it because we didn’t have the time or energy to focus on each other.
We decided to get rid of the bird and bun, because we both loved Percy more and felt more invested in him.
I cried as we gave them back to the pet shop we got them from, but I knew it had to be done. It was a tough decision, but Gavin led us beautifully by recognizing when there was a problem and doing something to fix it, even if it meant giving up something he loved so I would be less stressed.
After that, I thought everything was going to be better. I tried so hard to be happy with Percy, but no matter how hard I tried, something was still off. Instead of waking up next to my love every morning and snuggling closer together—just enjoying being husband and wife—we would have to get up, let the dog out, then listen to him whine in protest as we put him back in the crate. He couldn’t stay out unless one of us was watching him, because he’d likely pee or get into something he shouldn’t. Mornings may have had less chores, but I still had to tiptoe around while making tea, trying not to wake the dog prematurely.
Part of the reason we got a Dachshund is so that he could join us on our adventures (our day trips to state parks and other hikes). Don’t underestimate their stubby little legs—Dachshunds are a stubborn, hardy breed. Percy, unfortunately, wasn’t. He was the type of dog that panicked in the car (unless he was cached out), usually followed by a bodily function. In fact, the only thing he didn’t do in my poor car was pee.
My personal “favorite” story is the poop tornado: During a five minute drive to meet my parents at a park, Percy decided to become a poop tornado, spinning around in his dog seat while pooping, so that his poo got in every possible place it could go. All over himself, the dog seat, and my car. It was a less than fun day at the park.
I understand now that Dachshunds prefer their people—to the point where they want nothing to do with other people. Percy, rather than bringing joy to people by smiling like a happy little puppy and getting pets, he was an anxious, nauseated wreck of a puppy that didn’t want anything to do with other dogs or people. I wanted a dog that was loyal to us, but not if it meant it was scared of everything and everyone else. He got a little better as we trained him, but his core anxiety remained intact.
Then one day, while Gavin and I were chilling on our porch in the evening by ourselves, he asked: “Can you believe we’ve been married for six months?”
The question stopped me dead in my tracks. No. It absolutely did not feel like we had been married for six months! In fact, with so much happening, it felt like all of the stressors were clouding out the joy of being young newlyweds.
That seemingly insignificant question was what prompted me to come to terms with the last difficult realization: We had to rehome Percy.
The more I thought about how fast these six months had passed, the more I realized that we weren’t living the life I’d imagined for us. There was more stress than joy and little freedom or time for doing one of the things we loved most while we were dating—going on day trips. Then it hit me: If we didn’t currently have the time, we would need to make the time to do the things that bring us closer together.
“Not having time” is an illusion we trap our minds in. We each get to decide how we want to live our lives. Those who claim they have “no time” to do what they love are not leading their own life—they’re letting their life lead them.
The life I truly wanted became crystal clear to me in an instant: I wanted to be with Gavin—just Gavin. I wanted us to enjoy these years of it being just the two of us, because they are few in the grand scheme of life. I wanted to take care of Gavin, not pets, and vice versa. I wanted to go on adventures again, like our dating days. I wanted to go out when we wanted to and be able to stay out late on a whim, walking for hours or grabbing late night ice cream.
When I realized I was letting life just drag me along instead of shaping it more to my liking, I pulled Gavin aside again and told him I think we should rehome Percy.
I loved Percy, but the stress he was adding to our lives wasn’t helping us deal with financial strain or helping me cope with my health issues. Rather, he was just a constant chore that I had to keep my eye on and train at all times. I may not be able to control what life (or the Enemy) throws at me, but I can control what I invite into my home.
Do I invite things and people into my life that bring peace or chaos?
I want to become more discerning at who and what will bring which type of energy into my life. But I suppose sometimes, you just don’t know until you try.
Almost immediately after our decision to rehome Percy, he had diarrhea frequently. He even escaped his enclosure once while Gavin and I were away and tore up our office, peeing and pooping everywhere. I later learned that the frequent diarrhea was a sign that he was stressed—he wasn’t truly happy living with us either.
We found an amazing Dachshund rescue that is passionate about the breed and would take care of him for life. And in March of 2025, we said goodbye to the little guy.
I was a mess for days.
As relieved as I felt about being free again, I missed Percy’s adorable little face. Even more than that, I missed the idea of having a dog. I know that one day I will again, but only when the time is right. Now that I know what it feels like for the time to be so wrong, I’m hopeful that I’ll be better at discerning when the time is right.
Gavin and I started going on day trips again. From state parks, to museums, to various towns and festivals, we’ve been enjoying limitless time together—and we’re both so much happier.
We are making the time to do what we love—shaping our life into what we want it to look like—and keeping our focus right where it needs to be: on each other.
If you’re wondering how we are coping with all the stressful events and circumstances we have been forced to deal with so early on in our marriage, we’ve been taking advice from a good friend. Ever heard of Scatman John? He is a Christian scatter, and Gavin and I enjoy listening to many of his songs. Specifically, his song “Everything Changes” stood out to us at the end of 2024 and kind of became one of our theme songs for 2025. The chorus goes like this:
He really nails both points right on the head:
Each moment lives for you,
So fully live in each moment.
In other words, you have the power to shape your life to your liking by adding things you love and inviting people who bring peace into it, and removing (or distancing yourself from) things or people who bring chaos. By doing so, you will naturally be drawn to each present moment.
I don’t take the time Gavin and I have right now for granted. Every day, I am grateful for the “just us” time we spend together, but it is much easier to appreciate that now that we have removed the chaos and noise that was preventing us from living how we want to. The future excites me. There is so much to look forward to, but I won’t rush into the next stage of life.
You can enjoy the moment you are currently in while anticipating the good things that are coming.
This applies to everything. We are saving money for a house while we live in an apartment. We enjoy the freedoms of it being just us while we anticipate our children and future pets. There’s no rush. If you surrender to the future, you won’t enjoy the present.
P.S. A Note About Rehoming Pets
If you are living with a pet that is not bringing you or your family joy, take this as your sign to rehome it. You will be so much happier without their chaos. Please remember: Dogs are not humans. That doesn’t mean we treat them like they are less than, but they are not children who will have emotional scars of “abandonment”. If a dog doesn’t bring you joy, it doesn’t belong in your house. In fact, I can guarantee you that if the dog isn’t bringing you joy, you’re not bringing it joy, which means you are robbing it of the joys of living with the family it belongs with. Dogs are companions. If you’re not ready for the responsibility of caring for one, own up to it. If the dog’s personality doesn’t fit with your family, rehome it. It’s a humbling experience, but both you and the dog will be much happier once you’re both where you belong.
P.P.S. A Note About Choosing a Dog
Choosing a dog is hard. There are so many different breeds that all come with stereotypes. Then there’s the unique personality of the individual dog itself. And the little cherry on top is the breeders. When we get another dog, and we will someday, we’re not going to a breeder. From my experience and the knowledge I’ve gained from rescues with even more experience, breeders are usually in it for the money, not for the love of the dog. That said, if you want a specific breed, I totally understand—just be careful. Do your research and look for red flags when meeting with the breeder.
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