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« A Birth Story | Main | after the fourth night »

August 10, 2008



I'm always so excited to read what you've written when you update and it always makes me cry and cry.


You're a better person than I: the "no" would have been foremost in my mind for sure.

I have friends that live near that beach and we have a rock from it on our nightstand.


The "no" has been the foremost in my mind for almost 9 months now, with respect to Stephanie - I'm trying to allow some other feelings to join it.


What a beautiful piece of writing.

I think what I like best about what you've written here is the thought of Annabel bringing comfort to you before she was even born. That feels really remarkable and wonderful. I love you and your family.


You capture so well the fragile tender nature of what it means to be human. I'm sorry about Stephanie. People who leave us like that, - it's so hard to accept. It haunts a family until every last person who knew her is gone from this earth.

But that lady at your church is right. A healthy baby is like winning the lottery. And once we have kids we stop trying to survive for our-mere-selves. We live for them. We toil and laugh and love for them. And as long as they are okay, we are okay.

It is great to read a post of yours again. You have such a natural voice in your writing. It touches me to read and see what you see in your life's journey.

I check the flickr page from time to time and I'm delighted to see the baby growing. She is so beautiful. And Katie is a gorgeous girl and I love to see her being a big sister.

Jenn Hains

What you wrote about Stephanie gave me goose bumps. I have endured two losses this year - my grandmother (one year ago tomorrow) and my father in March of this year. Some days I have to squint to try and remember seeing them the last time - I want to cherish every detail. Or I try to remember what I said and what they said the last time we spoke. Grief moves through us emotionally, physically, spiritually...

I always love what you write. Your blog give me hope about the future - your kids are just beautiful.


I wouldn't want to presume - but I think I totally understand what you're talking about. My sister-in-law died two months ago (15, a car accident, not wearing a seatbelt) -- and I can't stop thinking about the what ifs, as you said, about how easily the ordinary Tuesday can turn into something terrible and unforgettable. On the one hand I'm left with awful fear - on the other, I feel the blessings of the ordinary so acutely...

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