year five

These past twelve months have been some of the most difficult for me personally. Since last October, we've miscarried twice, been to doctors, conceived a baby, all followed by a pregnancy marked almost continuously with some brand of illness or discomfort. (Though it has been a healthy pregnancy, and I don't take that for granted.) I've endured many personal, emotional, mental, and physical trials since Josh and I celebrated our last anniversary.

Yet despite my individual mountains, this past year has perhaps been my favorite of my marriage so far. One particular moment stands out.

I'd miscarried for the second time the night before. In the dark hours between night and day, Josh and I cried and held each other in bed, mourning another babe who wouldn't be. Josh still had to go to work that day, and as he was dressing he said that I shouldn't worry about making dinner that night. 

"You take care of yourself today, and tonight we'll go out to eat. Let's go somewhere special," and he thought for a moment, "like Red Robin." 

Let's go somewhere special--like Red Robin. 

I stared at him, knowing that he really meant somewhere not teriyaki take-out, and started laughing. Just hours after we'd lost the promise of a babe, we laughed together--and we laughed hard. 

Josh Wilson makes me laugh when I didn't think I could (and even when he doesn't mean to) and loves me always. Year five proved to me that amid storms, together we can always find laughter, light, and love. Mr. Wilson, how I love you and your fancy restaurant choices.