Don't know if this will help or not -
when i was first in therapy, the stuff that started surfacing was all new information to both my wife and me - i felt like i was a stranger to myself and she felt like she had been living with someone she didn't even know.
therapy was expensive, slow, and time-and-energy-consuming for both of us. it was so painful and grueling that i didn't want to re-hash every session with her. plus i was afraid of her reactions to some of the ugly shameful memories i'd recovered. if i shared too little, she felt left out and if i shared too much, i was afraid of scaring her or casuing her to reject me.
several months in, we got to the point where she she couldn't take the uncertainty and ambiguity and feelings of being excluded and un-involved in the process - as well as a lack of measurable progress. she really wanted me to stop. though i was sure i needed to stay in therapy, i needed her more.
at one point, after a period of stalemate, we both made a momentous decision. i told her that i was willing to stop seeing the therapist if it would make her happy and improve our relationship. at the same time, she was telling me that she was willing to give up anything that would make me well - and if it meant my continuing with therapy - that was what she wanted me to do. it reminded me of O Henry's story - "The Gifts of the Magi." it was such an incredible demonstration of love - from both sides. one of my most cherished - though bittersweet - memories.
so - not sayin that's what you should do...
but for me it was not the end of the story.
hope you can work out a solution that will be good for both of you.
They have greatly oppressed me from my youth, but they have not gained the victory over me.
Plowmen have plowed my back and made their furrows long.
But the Lord is righteous; he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked.