tom and i took the kids to highlands, north carolina. some of our generous family have a home in the mountains and blessed us with this opportunity to get away. i've been filled with mixed emotions; the time together is wonderful and yet the reason we are here is painful. wyatt and cassidy are such fun, beautiful, smart children is a gift, which makes it hard to think about what our family would look like with zeke. i'm constantly healing every day, but sometimes it feels like i'm not making any progress at all.
*thanks to maas for letting us borrow her camera.


have you ever thought about how hard it is to honestly answer the question, "how are you"? regardless of your situation right now, whether life is going good or rough, if someone asks you this question do you answer it honestly?

these last two weeks i think people have avoided this question with us. and rightly so. when people do ask i try to gauge the situation. if we are on the phone and i can tell this isn't meant to lead to in-depth conversation i answer, "i'm okay". but if someone is sitting on my couch and asking me this and i think they're really interested then i'll tell them.

some moments i'm not sad. and this is a weird feeling. shouldn't i be crying? shouldn't i be in bed, unable to face the day? but anyone who has been in a similar situation knows, with a husband, two small children and a community to be a part of, i can't hole up and cut myself off from the day. i have to participate at some level. so to look at me, say at sam and cassie's wedding, you might not know what's really going on.

but there's more.

we took the crib and changing table out of the baby's room last week. when i put stuff away in his room it was too hard to see where he slept. we leave the door shut to his room anyway, but somehow not seeing the crib makes it easier.

the cards came in a flurry the first two weeks, people sending their prayers and love. in some way it made the day better, knowing people were thinking about us, taking a little time out to let us know they care. the cards are slowing down and it's a reminder that people go on in their normal routines for the most part, experiencing small moments of sadness and then back to life.

we experience sadness every day. i'll speak from my experience over the last two and a half weeks. there's an overlying feeling of sadness, almost emptiness. waking up in the morning, taking a shower, being alone with nothing to do, these times create spaces for the sadness to come in, to remind me that my life hasn't gone on. that something has happened to my dreams and plans. i'm praying that at some point i'll be able to accept this change, to live with it.

but for now, if i have a conversation longer than ten minutes i know it will come up, missing zeke, wondering what the Lord is doing with this time of grief and emptiness, speculating on what could have been. be prepared, if you ask me how i'm doing, you might just get tears.