Miscarriage.

I feel like every time I sit down to write this post my mind goes blank. I can't remember the words of the English language (or any other language known to mankind for that matter) and the constant background chatter that constantly fills my headspace quiets down and all I'm left with is..

Silence.

To put it simply, words fail me. They fail to communicate the depth of emotion and grief that accompanies miscarriage. They fail to communicate the shock and horror at some of the comments that I got...

"Count it a blessing! you wouldn't have been able to handle twins."
"Everything happens for a reason!"
"You only miscarry unhealthy babies."
 "At least you still have one!"
"Miscarriages are super common.."

All of these things said with the speaker thinking they are somehow easing your pain or granting you some previously unknown perspective on your situation.

All of these things made me want to SCREAM.

Most often though, another woman who had suffered through losing a pregnancy would say nothing to me. Just give a hug, or warm smile, or small nod of understanding. And I appreciated her. There are no words. Only time. And the comfort of Jesus. Those are the only things that heal those wounds.

Within moments I dreamed a lifetime for that little one.

And then it was all over-- and to everyone else, since there is no physical evidence, it's like it never happened. Most of the time I feel like I'm carrying around this giant invisible weight.

How to curl my hair with a wand, and other things I can't figure out.

K guys..

I cannot for the life of me figure out how to use a wand to curl my hair. I get the theory. I can do it in someone else's head--  but I get the wand in one hand and my hair in the other and I just can't figure it out. I've watched tutorials, I have had people show me. But when it comes time to do it, I can't. What's going on it my head just doesn't make it to my hands.

I also can't figure out how people get out the door with two kids. Like there's no way. I don't have enough arms for the diaper bag, the soothers, blankets, loveys and my TWO babies, who together weigh 45 pounds (yes, I regularly carry them both.. WHO NEEDS THE GYM?!). Forget locking the house and opening the car door. I need four arms. Maybe six.

I also can't figure God out.

You know those results I was waiting on? Negative!

So I start texting close friends and family to fill them in and all everyone could say was "Praise God!" "Isn't The Lord faithful!?" "Aren't you so happy!"

Here is a deep down secret bottom of my heart confession: all I wanted to say was NO.

I wanted to say: "No. I'm mad. I'm angry. I'm (insert choice expletive here) PISSED. What was the point of all of that!? Of three weeks of stress and worry and exhaustion. Haven't we been through enough this year!? I don't want to learn any more freaking lessons. I want to get to the end and have normal, easy days. I'm tired. This is stupid."

Sidenote: I know "normal, easy days" don't really exist. And I don't mean to complain. But I'm straight up burned out. Weary.

Don't judge me?

I get SO buffeted around by every day life. My heart is tossed around by the waves of  things going well, and things going badly. I'm fickle in my faith. So fragile, frail, foolish, childish. So...human. So hopelessly human.

I also know SO much Scripture-- about hiding my soul in the rock, and about how in Christ we find rest and peace-- and I love how in these moments they pop into my heart, ease my breath and my spirit. I have so so much more growth to do in this area-- to come to a place where the ups and downs of life don't drag me up and down with them. To anchor my soul to Christ, in His steadfast, gracious and abounding love, to His consistency.