Roses and Babies

Mark and I have the most amazing friends. Calling them friends doesn't seem like enough, though. It's like that word just doesn't do them justice - it's not special enough. We sometimes say that they're more like family, but that doesn't work either, because the word "family" (for us) has painful associations that go along with it. They're more like co-sojourners, wandering through life alongside us. They laugh with us, they cry with us, and they pray with and for us. When Mark and I are going through difficult times, they are the ones who carry us through. They're not "superpeople", and they're not perfect, but that's part of what makes us love them so much - we don't feel any expectations to be "super" or perfect ourselves.

In the past three months, Mark and I have experienced two miscarriages. It has been horribly sad, painfully disappointing, and has left us feeling a bit confused, a bit angry. We don't understand why I suddenly can't keep a baby in my womb. I'll be going to the doctor about it in October, but we're having to put off trying to conceive again for now, which means our plans to have babies about two years apart are simply not going to work out.

Our friends have mourned our losses with us. They have prayed for us, listened to us, and simply gone through the experience with us. Last week, Bevin and Zellyn sent roses (a flower I adore) with the following note:

"We love you guys so much! We've been thinking of you tons this week. We're sorry for this loss. We're glad we can be your friends in shitty stuff as well as fabulous stuff."

So are we. Mark and I often say how wonderful it is to walk through life with such amazing people. We thank our God for them every day.