A full week in the Mexican sun left me more relaxed and happier than I had been in months. While the beach was dreamy, the best part happened the day before we left for our trip: after a year and four months of trying we were finally pregnant again. I’ve never been so happy to feel so sick in a beautiful place.

These past few months have been intentionally quiet while I’ve been allowing space for it all. To be honest, I don’t know what’s next, and friends, what a refreshing feeling that is.

Instead of handing God an itinerary for my life, I’m reaching out with open hands and saying “Show me.”

I thought I could heal myself. If I just did the right exercise, grieved the right way, ate the right foods, or took the right supplements I could restore my body. But I’m a broken person, and broken tools can only fix so much. I cannot truly heal myself because my goal is based on earthly examples.

But God can.

I've felt off all day – the quiet rain and rolling thunder echoing a melancholy restlessness in my soul. I've worked through a list of my best self-care tricks, but even so, the weight hasn't budged. I even started crying while petting Nori this morning, but couldn't define why.

There are moments where it seems impossible that the sun would have the audacity to shine once more.

And yet, we rise.

You don’t have to say anything, buy anything, post anything, or do anything unless it serves you. Your experience won’t look like anyone else’s version of Mother’s Day, and it likely won’t look like the Instagram, Pinterest, or Facebook highlight real either. Today might be more about the word 'and'.