It is well.

Yes. I think I'm ready. For the three of you who know that my blog exists, you know already the uncertainty that became certain this past week for us. I miscarried. The weekend beforehand my brother and sister came to visit for the first time. I had no idea how much I missed them. We pretty much just hid from the heat inside, and it was great. Elsie got to spend some much-needed time getting to know some super important people, and I got free babysitting. It was also a sovereign blessing from the Lord that this, of all weeks, was the one in which they chose to come. Not only for the joy of our reuniting, but also for the wisdom, maturity and theology I was exposed to and able to draw from in the following days. The day they left, we were also hugely blessed to have in our company Rett's brother and his wife, both of whom are immensely wise and caring. How undeniably providential to have so many influential and wonderful people at hand, at this time, when I needed them all the most. I grew a lot this week. Shortly after a terribly sad goodbye to my sibs, I commented to my sister-in-law how my mindset in this pregnancy has been markedly different from that of my last. In the first, I was so...aware. Aware of my size, my symptoms, my gestational progression. I checked my books daily to see what had changed since 24 hours beforehand. While this time, often forgetting I was even pregnant at all. She reminded me afterward how this was truly the grace of God that I was rather absent-minded about the whole thing. On Monday, I started to light spot. At first I wasn't concerned, because I know pregnant women sometimes do - but it got worse, and I knew what it meant. I told Everett what I suspected, and in the morning it was confirmed. Sparing details, I will say that I got to hold it for a few minutes. It wasn't what I expected it to look like, and I am so thankful for this. It didn't actually look much like anything at all. It would have been much harder I think if it had. When it happened, I think more than anything it was just...surreal. I know that they are so very common, so I always kept it in my mind that it was a possibility - I just didn't expect it. In my hands it didn't feel like a lost child as much as a lost hope. And not to solicit any praise for my mindset which isn't of me at all, I was surprised how well I took it. I wasn't angry, I wasn't devastated, I wasn't blaming, I wasn't in denial, I wasn't bitter. I knew, even still holding it with bloody hands, that it was the Lord's the give, and His to take away, too. Not to say that my heart didn't ache or that my hands didn't feel like they were burning from the death that they held; just that after so many recent conversations about how the Lord works all things - from the evilest holocaust to really anything else - together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, and for His GLORY. This. THIS brings him glory. Everett stood there for a minute, taking me in: silent, frozen, wide-eyed, heart-broken. And when he finally asked me how I was, all I could say was that this was in HIS time, by HIS plan, and for HIS glory. What else is there to say? What else is there to believe? What else is there to hold on to? If HE is not sovereign over the life of this blastocyst, how could he be sovereign over the entire universe and all that is within it? And if I cannot believe that now, how could I claim to believe that when eternity - our redemption, our sanctification, justification, and glorification - are in question. Praise the LORD. My soul has refuge in Him. My heart sings to Him for the mercy He has shown me. For the patience He has with me and with my lack of faith and understanding. I have unsurpassed peace, when my body aches for what I have lost, for what I never had...for what was and is and will eternally be His. Praise the Lord, OH MY SOUL. All that is within me, Praise His Holy Name. Last night, I finally cried. I grieved. I just needed to grieve. I don't know why I didn't need to until then. I don't know why I can't cry like a normal person. I ugly cry. Really. I hold my emotions and my breath because I despise crying in all its entirety until I can't hold it any longer and all comes whooooooshing out. It felt good though, because as much as I can hope and believe that the Lord allows unborn children of believers into His rest, I still long for my child - Elsie's sibling. The one who will forever be absent from our meals, third base, and Christmas. Until we meet again, precious one... Are they still Blastocysts at eleven weeks?

Where do we go from here?

I was recently encouraged to start blogging again. I don't really have a lot of spare time - or free hands - but the prospect stirred for a while. Usually when I do have both of these afforded to me, I like to spend time reading the words of people much smarter than I(see: God, Chambers, or Paul Miller lately). However I do enjoy blogging; it reminds me of all that the Lord has blessed me with, and is a neat way to record the thoughts of my heart. I have much of both that could stand to be saved. It is a funny time for me to be refueling this hobby, however, since we are hitting the road for nearly a full two weeks (#PleaseRobMe) to attend a wedding, and see both sides of our families. Good thing we have nosy gun-friendly neighbors who like peering over our fences and kids who jump them altogether to play our yard games we leave out (#Plus?). These last few months have been really exciting ones: Everett FINALLY graduated (#StudentDebt'Palooza), and we are closing on our home soon (#YayMoreDebt). Elsie is growing and maturing so quickly we can't keep up with her. I just try to take as many photos and videos of her as I can, and hope I capture the bigger moments. Today she started consistently doing "please" in Sign, after mastering "all done" a short time ago. She understands so much, and is always chatting about something. Yesterday, she was running around the house saying "HI!" to me every time she saw me. Lately she's also been a HUGE fan of "OH WOW!" and of course, "Uh Oh!". So far, she has repeated (though not seemingly understanding) "I LUHLOO" (I love you), "BE CAIRPUL" (Be careful), and "Layla". She likes to put objects in containers, and remove them, occasionally stacking them and repeating the process. The last several days I've filled a large bin with water in the back yard and she has spent many hours out with cups in the water. Today, she discovered the running hose and thoroughly soaked herself (check out my YouTube). We recently added another to our family in Layla. We aren't super sure what she is, but she's been both a challenge and a riot - as all puppies are. It is good for she and Elsie to have each other. Layla likes to steal whatever food Elsie has, and Elsie likes to spike Layla's ball in front of her face and watch her go get it. They've both had to learn patience due to each other's existence. Everett is working hard at the clinic getting it up and running paper-less. Quite an endeavor, it seems. He is loving coming home on lunch breaks and getting real food - not a cold sandwich, and Elsie likes getting to see her daddy much more often now. And lastly in my drawn-out, un-solicited, long-winded blog on where we are now life, I feel compelled to mention that in two short days, Everett and I will celebrate four wonderful years of marriage! What an interesting four years it has been. Many curve-balls and adventures, and lots of changes, and so fun to do with my bestie. Next blog should be interesting (#Lies) Take Care,