To love hard, is to grieve hard.
Eleven. Today two of our three, would be eleven. For the first time in this journey, I had the thought, πΈπͺππ π π΄π©π’π³π¦ π¦π·π¦π³πΊ πΊπ¦π’π³? It didnβt take long for my heart to beat into my throat with a resounding
You are seen.
Grief and joy in every moment. My three forever wonders would be starting middle school this week.
It’s way more about your stuff.
Here's a teach about how to lean in and get curious when feeling triggered.
Let it.
Eleven years later, taking care of my senior eleven-year-old dogs. Every morning, I push a stroller, and every night I put on their diapers.
It’s not unsuccessful. It’s just different.
Every ending to the infertility journey is valid. Enough. And can be happy.
Thank you for seeing us
Our first In Waiting & Healing: When Your Journey to Parenthood Isn't As Expected was last night, and to say it was incredibly holy is an understatement.
Ten years
This morning as I got ready, two mourning doves and a blue jay worked through some stuff in our holly tree right outside the window. Of course, the blue jay was pretty feisty and eventually staked its territory.
Receive your healing
We tell our story because maybe it will shine the way out of the dark for someone else.
