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'.

My dreams of giving you a natural, simple welcome into the world were long gone, yet that morning I felt overwhelming peace. Every step of the way you and God made the decisions very clear. Subtlety is not your forte and your birth was no different.

In the wake of miscarrying August it became clear that I needed space for my soul to catch its breath. The past few months have been intentionally quiet. When I chose ‘Revival’ as our word for 2020, I never pictured revival being found in months of silence.

But God.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, and this year the timing was incredibly poignant.

There were a lot of things I’d hoped to do to honor our sweet angel babes this month, but this October required recovery, rest, and healing.

So this is what I have for you, friends: a thank you and a giveaway.