With COVID-19 shut downs happening all around the country, I've heard a lot of people asking "what do I do with my kids?" We're a homeschooling family, so my kids are always home, and have been through a Minnesota polar vortex winter, tiny apartment living, and a house fire that meant living in a hotel for five weeks.

Being unexpectedly stuck home with the kids means you likely didn't have time to prepare, probably can't go anywhere, and likely have some work to get done yourself (and, ya know, not go crazy.) You can do this! Here's some ideas.

1. Set a schedule

I cannot tell you how important this is. Some sort of pre-determined structure to your day is everything when you are all home, all day, in each other's space. This can be very fluid! Ours looks like this:

Breakfast as people wake up
Dress after breakfast
Morning chores (straighten up, start laundry, unload dishwasher)
Announce "the plan of the day" (we'll get to that in a second)
Lunch
Nap/quiet time/school/learning show
Snack
Afternoon chores (fold laundry, prep/cook dinner, big group pick up)
Dinner
Family time (movie, game night, walk, etc.)
Bedtime (I suggest early and kids not sleepy yet get quiet reading time)

2. Make a list

Our "plan of the day" is me announcing the game plan. In a normal time, this involves our classes, outings, errands, projects, or whatever else needs to happen that day with the kids.
When we're all stuck at home, it's whatever I have picked out from our idea list.

I highly recommend making a master list for yourself of different types of things to choose from. It takes off a lot of the daily mental load!

Here's some of the categories I like to include:

Gross motor/Get Your Wiggles Out
Quiet Time
Family projects
Movie/show/games
Novelty

3. Inventory what tools you already have available

Now that you've started thinking, go through your house and inventory what you already have to work with. Sports equipment? Art supplies? Odds and ends? Camping stuff?

Use what you find to add to your list. Here's some things we have tried and loved:

• Pitch a tent inside! We have a 2 person tent that can become a fort, a reading space, and endless hours of pretend play. If it's nice weather where you are, that can become a full out backyard camp ground.
• Field Day. It's easier than it sounds. I found cones, balls, chalk, and jump ropes. We had running races, running drills when the races got teary competitive, jump rope clinics, draw crazy long loopy lines with chalk and try to tip toe the whole line.
• Recycle Bin Crafting. I dump out the recycle bin, remove anything hazardous like sharp cans, and let the kids invent away! They can cut, draw, tape, design, tear, whatever they want. Robots, fashion creations, and creative bug habitats have happened.

4. Keep some learning time, even in difficult times

One thing I learned from living through a house fire, was the kids needed the relief of giving their brains something else to focus on while we were displaced. Reading aloud, printing out worksheets, teaching skills I knew. Here are some of our favorite resources.

• The Library Even if you can't go there physically, many libraries offer online resources you can access. Ours has free streaming content, downloadable audiobooks, ebooks, and access to learning databases for kids and adults. 
• PBS They have a streaming app that is wonderful for getting access to what we call "learning shows" AKA Nova, Nature, and other content. PBS Learning Media is a great resource for distance learning needs.
• YouTube Our favorite learning shows on YouTube are Liberty's Kids and the various farm history series from BBC featuring Ruth Goodman. Want to learn a craft or other skill? There's probably a YouTube video for that.
• Project Gutenberg Need any more free read alouds? Project Gutenberg has thousands of free classic children's literature titles to access as ebooks for free.
• Pinterest If you have an idea you're thinking about there is probably a mom or teacher out there with a how to article on Pinterest for you. It's wonderful for finding hands on game ideas and other activities focused on a particular topic.
• Your own childhood and skills. Remember that odd camp song you still remember 15 years later? Your kids will likely love hearing you tell about it and teaching it to them. I've taught the kids how to juggle, how to double a recipe, how to crochet, how to sew, and how to use a screwdriver. It's empowering, bonding, and often gets a chore done, in one swoop!

5. What is this "quiet time" you mentioned?

Parents have stuff to get done too. No shame in using some screentime! But here's some other ways to make it work for you too.

• Set boundaries. Quiet time for us runs from toddler nap start to snack time at 2pm. The big kids are used to not being able to choose TV shows, get a snack, or be loud during that time. 
• Choices. The main rules for things to do during quiet time is they must be: quiet, independent, not destructive to others or things. They are welcome to choose something like LEGOs, painting, or a board game that we can't do with the toddler tornado happening. They are encouraged to play outside independently during this time.
• You are not in charge of their happiness. It's a freeing concept! It's ok if they feel bored. It's not my job to provide constant stimulation. They have choices from the quiet time list (as I mentioned earlier), they know the boundaries, they are welcome to come to me with any questions or injuries. Other than that, I need to be allowed to work.
• After 2pm, learning show! I will often still have work that needs to happen after 2. Especially if the toddler is still napping, I love to get that done. I find documentaries are much less distracting for me than say PBS Kids. PBS documentaries typically have handy viewer ratings, so we pick one rated TV-PG or G and they can learn about something new!

6. Work Together

Homeschool families are forced to work together a lot. Putting away laundry is a group effort. When it's cleaning windows day, I spray rags for everyone (even the two year old) and they clean what they can reach. Include the kids as much as you can in household projects and chores. Being allowed to contribute to the family is a big morale booster, and I find it's easier for kids to start talking about what's on their mind while they're working alongside you.

I've had many conversations about kid's worries and struggles while cleaning up books, hanging laundry, and tidying rooms.

It might be hard, but be willing to be honest with your kids that need you to talk straight. Gentle with the ones who are struggling with the changes in their lives. Kids are smart and they realize when something is up. But they want to be connected with you and their family. 

7. Set a finish line

I mentally need to know when I might have a chance of down time. We normally have getting ready for bed time at 7pm and kids in bed at 7:30pm. Yes, it's early. We're all normally up by 6:30am so it needs to be early, but it allows for my husband and I to actually talk to each other or watch a non-kid appropriate show/movie. 

Being stuck at home all day every day for an extended period is very much a mental game. We will each need to be aware of our personal needs for mental breaks, morale boosts, and a chance to laugh. I like to work on a puzzle (jigsaw, cross word, suduku), watch a standup comedy set on streaming, make a mug cake, or snuggle up with tea and a book. 

I hope this is helpful for someone! Leave your ideas below in the comments.

We've Done This Before - Cancelling Mass for Outbreaks, A History

Viral outbreaks, epidemics, and pandemics have happened throughout human history. Some require different responses to see to the end. The Catholic Church, being a 2000+ year old institution, has seen quite a few.
I've heard many Catholics, and priests, calling the closure of churches and shutting of public masses to be "unprecedented." Au contraire! There is in fact historical precedent for closing churches and avoiding large gatherings during illness outbreaks. There is also historical precedent for what happens when we decide to not follow the advice of health authorities in regards to churches.

I love me a good history tour, so join this one: cancelling mass for outbreaks, a history.

1918 Pandemic Flu

The pandemic flu of 1918-1919 is the most recent example of the scale of global impact that we are seeing develop with COVID-19.

 From Baltimore, MD: "The city’s leading Catholic clergyman continued to question why local churches were closed “while the stores, saloons, markets and the like remain open.” While recognizing public health concerns, James Cardinal Gibbons argued that “it would be a much-needed relief to our church-going population if they could be allowed to attend brief morning services… I am told that a number of calls upon our physicians are simply the result of nervousness, or the consequence of alarm. This might be considerably allayed by the reassurance of religion, and discreet words from our priests given the people in church.”
This quote is from October 15, 1918, yet is almost identical to statements I have seen shared on social media in the past few weeks.

In the Fall of 1918 awareness of the virus was high, but acceptance of the need for social distancing was not.

In Spain we see what happens when Catholic leaders and faithful refuse to comply with local health authorities. "Because of a strong social influence of the Bishop, the Catholic Church authorities in Zamora [Spain] stated that “the evil upon us might be a consequence of our sins and lack of gratitude, and therefore the vengeance of eternal justice felt upon us” [19, p. 149] and, subsequently, organized a series of Mass gatherings at Zamora's Cathedral. One of the likely consequences of the events was the easy spread of the virus. The attempts of civil authorities to forbid Mass gatherings were disputed by the Bishop, who accused the political and public health authorities of undue interference with the church."
Zamora had the highest death toll from the pandemic flu in all of Spain, due in no small part to the refusal to accept social distancing measures. Zamora had a peak death rate of 10.1% in October 1918. Mortality in all of Spain in the same month? 3.8%
Those mass gatherings to pray the virus away? They were held in October 1918.

On October 12, 1918 Rochester, NY announced the closure of all churches, including public masses. This is after steps such as cancelling confirmations and other public devotions. The bishop put a statement in the newspaper encouraging the faithful to follow the direction of the health authorities, act prudently, and to pray in communion with the Church at home.
Rochester would fare much better than other comparable cities in the area. It's excess death rate was 360 per 100,000 residents - putting it just about equal with St. Louis, MO. Both cities are now held up as examples of how many lives can be saved with the early adoption of social distancing measures.

A More Recent Example

1918 too far back for you? How about May of 2018. That was when an Ebola outbreak in the Democratic Republic of the Congo led to a ban on most sacraments.  No baptisms, confirmations, ordinations, or anointings until further notice. By September thousands of churches were closed in the hardest hit regions. Communion in the hand only, if you are lucky enough to be able to receive it. The DRC is a very Catholic country, with some 650,000 of the region's 1.2 million residents are Catholic in the Ebola effected regions. That means about 650,000 Catholics have already been living without access to the sacraments for over 19 months straight due to a virus.

Did you know that outbreak just officially saw an end in sight only last week? The discharge of the last Ebola patient, and a lack of new cases in two weeks, means the outbreak might finally be over. For now.

Adds a little perspective, doesn't it?

Let's Talk Little Kids and Modesty

I'm a theater person. I've been a dancer, and now also a parent of dancers, for the past 20+ years. That's a long time to be around the performing arts, and I've seen quite a range. Over the past few years, I've gotten a lot of questions from parents wondering about dance schools for their kids. A question that comes up time and again is about modesty.

How do you deal with immodest costumes? What if you don't like the choreography? Can you adapt the costume or uniform?

Here's my radical answer to the whole premise of the question: I don't believe in modesty as a concept for young children. I think it makes far more sense to approach clothing choices for kids by asking if it's age/activity/weather appropriate.

Context first

Going to church requires a very different set of clothing choices from a day in the woods or attending Ballet class. It is not possible to decide what is or isn't age appropriate without first factoring in context.
When we are talking about the dance context, the primary reasons for clothing design are 1) safety and 2) storytelling. In class, the tight fabric allows the teacher to see exactly what the student is doing, and correct any bad habits that are forming. That correction is what prevents injuries. In performance, costumes are designed to tell the story, set the time and place, and clearly indicate character.

Now is there wiggle room? Maybe. There are such things as bad design choices. If a costume is chosen that does not mesh with the age of the dancers, it is a bad choice. But I always approach those conversations from an age appropriate stance instead of one of modesty.

Be Goal Oriented

Why wouldn't I tell that studio director her costume choices are immodest? Because there is no uniform definition of what is modest - especially when you factor in different ages and contexts. We would easily be talking past each other. My goal is not to "win"; my goal is to reach a solution. In order to do that, I need to treat the director/costume designer/whoever is in charge with an understanding for the various factors they are juggling and a desire to be on the same page.

Sometimes it's just not a good fit

Perhaps there's a studio that's very close to you, but they focus on a type of dance that does not fit your taste. If you're not inspired by the end goals of that school, then it's probably not the school for you. If that director thinks two piece costumes that show off little kid tummies are SO CUTE, but you're not down with it - it's probably not the school for you.
Too often people interpret one school being a bad fit to mean that dance as a whole is not a good choice for kids. Please don't make that mistake (but I have a whole piece on it if you want more on that topic.)

What can you do?

Here are some ways I have seen dance schools in particular grow and improve when it comes to age appropriate choices:

• Having all young dancers wear their tights and a nude leotard as a base layer for their costume. They get dressed at home, the costumes get a little extra protection, and changing awkwardness is banished. Yea!
• Some schools have moved to not even having costumes for recitals at all. Instead those are saved for larger performing opportunities, and recitals are done in their regular dance uniforms plus a hair piece or cummerbund. Budget friendly, less waste, and no worry about costume choices.
• Learning stage make up is a necessary skill for a performer. Don't be afraid of it! There are many YouTube videos now for stage make up for the young dancer (including ones for young male dancers). Make up is necessary under stage lights, but lots of places have figured out exactly what is needed and what is not.
• The single most powerful thing for the parent of a little performer to understand is why. Why are things done this way? Why is this useful? What is the end goal that this is all building toward? Some schools offer occasional parent lectures, observation weeks, regular teacher feedback, lending libraries, and other ways for parents to understand what their child is working on.

Modesty is a huge concept! This is a particular area of my experience, but I know many other art forms and schools handle the question of modesty for young kids with very different solutions. What has worked for you? Do you do things different with your own kids than what you had growing up? Did anything I said make you think differently about modesty for young kids?

2019...You Were a Doozy

Well 2019 was a YEAR. I've never been one to say "good riddance" to a particular year, but if I had to pick one 2019 is a solid contender.

2019 brought a house fire, being out of our home for 5 weeks, finding out we were pregnant, miscarrying, finding an ovarian cystic tumor and STILL miscarrying, miscarrying again. Lots of deaths and sickness and losses.

But it also brought my first acting castings in the Twin Cities, shooting a commercial, settling into a fun new homeschool groove, the kids in therapies graduating from their therapies.

Even the bad stuff brought some good stuff. Living in an extended stay hotel during the fire clean up meant we spent just about every morning at the Y. That's the only reason I was around to meet Joan, who turned out to be the great-granddaughter of the original builders of our house.

This is when Joan (or Gigi as the kids call her) came back to see the house for the first time in over 60 years.
This was taken just before her 90th birthday!

Perhaps the biggest change has been not writing publicly nearly as often as I have in the past. Partly it's a time issue (theater productions are crazy time intensive) but also because a lot more of my discussions and writing have been happening offline.

Going through back to back miscarriages this year, and being open about it online, led to an opening of shared pain and need for healing that I was not expecting. Over the past nearly 7 months of this process, I've gotten messages from women going through their first miscarriages, women still struggling with past losses, others with multiple losses, and friends of parents experiencing loss. If nothing else, this year has shown that there is still a massive unmet need for services and understanding when it comes to grief and loss.

I keep coming back to stories.
My degree is in Anthropology, and I've been drawn to the power of stories for a long time.
That's what I've been writing.
I've been writing the story of this house and it's original family as I uncover historical documents and get information from the family. The story of my own extended family as records are released and things come to light. I've been working on lesser known saint stories and folklore theory recently (and will hopefully have something to show you about that at some point.)

Here were the top three posts from this year. They are all very story based. The best part about stories is how they are both personal and widely applicable. You'll see what I mean.

Acting Boldly: Why We Need It For Healthy Parishes

Back in March, when I had no idea just how sideways this year would get, I wrote up a piece of theater advice that I think makes parish life much better. Act boldly, be a real community.

I ended up needing to take my own advice in a big way. It's been rough and painful, but there are glimmers of hope there that will hopefully help others.

A Grief Continued: Back to Back Miscarriages and Taking Space

That time when I got real and concise with the internet and got wildly differing responses.

This was a popular post, but a lot of people's last post. Some felt personally called out by this one. Some felt like they couldn't handle "this darkness". Some told me they would read me again "when you're ready to be a cheerful person again."

Still there were some who let me know they had registered our babies in their parish's book of remembrance. Lots of prayers. Lots of "me too"s and "I wish I had said this during my losses".

Grief isn't fun or pretty. But as a community, and as a Church, we've got to get better at it. For the sake of our humanity.

When Baby's First Shoes are Prescription

I debated for a really long time whether to share this story.

There are many stories about our family life and personal lives that I have chosen not to share out of privacy concerns. Often because they are not my story to tell. 

This one was tricky. The genetic condition that Felicity has is something I share. As far as we know I'm the first in my family to have significant hyper-mobility, and until the past few years I didn't know it was genetic. I thought this is just what happens when you've been dancing since the age of 4.

We are incredibly blessed to live in Minnesota where in home physical therapy and early intervention is free and readily available. Since this post, Felicity no longer needs her braces, has caught up with her gross motor skills, and graduated from her weekly PT. She has worked hard to be where she is now, but I know from being a few more decades down the road that this is a lifelong condition.

I don't know how things are going to play out for her, but it's a blessing to have walked this road first. 

What did 2019 bring you? Did you have a favorite story of this year? Any transformations for you?

Letting Go of Policing Advent

Advent is just around the corner, and perhaps the cringy-est liturgical living ghost is about to appear: the Advent Grinch.

I get it. It bothers you that December is filled with Christmas parties, sales, community events, and  movies. Because it is NOT Christmas, and you DON'T want to celebrate it already.
However, it's probably bad for evangelization to put down the secular world trying to participate in a season it vaguely remembers and longs to hold. It seems counterproductive to be against celebrating such an important season, even if it is done a little off time. They're trying.

Instead of making Advent a protest against the secular world celebrating imperfectly, it seems far more charitable to stop policing Advent as a negative and start celebrating it as a positive.

The Little Lent

If you want to make sure your family is clear on the difference between Advent and Christmas, a simple way to start is embracing the penitential aspect of the season. Have you noticed how the liturgical color is purple, the same as during Lent? Advent is a "little Lent", a second preparatory and penitential season. Picking a mortification as individuals or as a family can help focus the season.

This comes with a caveat - your mortification cannot force the mortification of others. It's just unkind and negates the individual discipline of the practice. If you want to give up "going to Christmas parties during Advent" largely because you want a reason to not attend those gatherings, that might need a little more examination. Are you really doing a private mortification to prepare your heart for the coming of Christmas or are you falling into pride? Telling your friend that you aren't attending their party because it's inappropriate to have Christmas parties in Advent is probably going to embarrass your friend and cause harm to that relationship.
You don't have to accept every invitation, but you do have to exercise kindness and charity.


Pick and Choose

Although we are generally able to better accept Lent will look a little different for each of us, we aren't always as generous with variation when it comes to Advent. Instead it's easy to fall into the trap of trying to do ALL THE THINGS. Jesse Tree, Advent wreath, special feast days and the feast days that don't resonate with your family.

 You don't have to do any of it. It's nice, they can make good memories, but if it is causing you to be stretched thin or beat yourself up for forgetting the Jessie Tree again - maybe you're better off simplifying.


It's fine to do what works for you.

The only Advent traditions we do are the ones that have deep meaning for us, we enjoy doing, and that help us orient towards Christmas. For us St. Nicholas, St. Lucia, Ember Days, Advent wreath, and slow decorating make the cut. That's it.

We don't do much of anything for Our Lady of Guadalupe now, we don't do Jessie Tree, hunt for the baby Jesus, or many other fine and dandy traditions. What you do once does not actually mean you are trapped in celebrating in a particular way forever. Extend yourself the grace to grow and change, and it makes it easier to extend that to others.

Lean into the Christmas season.

The single easiest way I have found to not be an Advent Grinch is to make my Christmas season radically different from Advent. We lean way into the Christmas season. The 12 Days of Christmas (Christmas to Epiphany) are both highly celebratory and laid back. We are off from school and outside classes. We make ourselves available to welcome friends and family. I prep freezer meals and cookie dough and do a deep clean during the Ember Days. That leaves me free of lots of household duties during the 12 Days of Christmas.

It doesn't need to be fancy. In fact, it probably shouldn't be fancy.

If you want some ideas for this time, you can check out my 12 lists for the 12 Days of Christmas post.
Haven't heard of these Ember Days I mentioned? Here's a little about them.

Want a breakdown of how to prep during Advent for this truly relaxing (even for mom) 12 Days of Christmas? Check out this post.

Was It Worth Being Open to Life When My Baby Died?

Last week I discussed the worth of walking down the wrong path. In that piece I focused more on saying a full yes to one vocation, only to ultimately learn that it was not meant for me. That time spent discerning was a gift instead of a waste.

It's relatively easy to accept that taking a risk on discernment will pay off somehow. But what about when the "wrong road" involves losing a child? What if it means losing multiple children? Was it still worth it?

I've shared a bit about our story from this summer. A very complicated miscarriage in June that didn't end until July when we also had to do surgery to remove a cystic tumor on my ovary (unrelated to miscarriage, I'm just lucky like that.) A subsequent miscarriage in September.

I don't think it truly was a "wrong road" to have been open to those pregnancies, but it was a wrong road in the sense that it did not lead to a living baby as one would hope. Roads that lead to heartache are roads most people would rather not travel. It's not wrong to feel that.

However, I wasn't anticipating how strongly my losses would result in me being avoided. Like miscarriage is catching. Like I have a bad luck virus. Even among women who have had miscarriages, my story is odd. This particular road is rare, and, perhaps the scariest of all, unavoidable.
My losses are not due to any underlying problem we have been able to identify. All three are more than likely due to bad luck. There is nothing I could have done to prevent them. There is nothing to do to avoid losing future children.

That terrifies people.

We don't like it, but it's true - being open to life will entail being open to death. Whether we accept that reality or not. A road that you thought was bordered by sunshine and daisies can turn into a nightmare in an instant. But it's still a grace to be on that road. It is better to have been open to grace and cooperating with it, than to have prevented the heartache with sameness.

Heartache is a reminder of the power and size of your yes. When your heart breaks over a sudden turn in the road, it lets you know how deeply you meant your yes. Heartache is a beautiful reminder that you were willing to become more. More open, more loving, more a follower of Christ. This is not the "be more" of Pinterest inspirational quotes. This is the being more that is our invitation to accept God can do anything. We can be more his on this hard path.

God did not intend for your baby to die. Our God is not a cruel God. I think it's important to lay that out there.
The idea that this road has included loss, or losses, that furthers God's grace does not mean that you should not grieve. If anything it means grief will be so much more real.

A pothole in this road is the temptation to what I call the Pain Olympics. Comparing our pain to be greater than or less than the pain of others, and using that comparison to justify harmful behavior. This is not a healing strategy. The Pain Olympics only hands out loser awards. Even if you "win" it just means you are still hurting. We can do that without belittling the pain of others.

What I don't want to become is bitter on this road. Which does not mean I accept that the people who have reacted hurtfully in this process haven't hurt me. It's right to be hurt by hurtful things. It just means that instead of pretending these awful months didn't happen, I can use this experience to push for change. To allow the next woman walking her sudden wrong road to have someone next to her. To do the little things I can do. Cooperating with God's grace does not have to die with my babies. It can be the ultimate sign of their life.

Was this road worth it? 100% yes. Does it hurt? 100% yes.

Yes is a super power if we allow it to be.

What have been some of your unexpected "wrong roads"? How have you cooperated with Grace?

The Worth of Walking Down the Wrong Road

"I don't want it to have been a waste of time."
"I'm not sure if it will pay off."
"How can I be positive God is calling me?"

These are probably the top three responses I hear in discussions about discernment. They are the same responses when the discussion is about discerning a primary vocation, deciding to start a new venture, or listening for another kind of calling.
The underlying fear is the same: no one wants to start down the wrong road.

But what makes something "the wrong road" when you are choosing between good things?
I think most of us assume that any path that does not end in our eventual calling was a wrong road.
What if God might be calling you to walk one path for a while, but not arrive at your anticipated destination? What if it's not about finding out God's big picture plan, but more of a practice in letting him walk with you on every path?

This changes things. Now it's less about being sure and confident of God's will, and more being willing to come along on the adventure.

There have been two big roads in my life that could have been considered a wrong road, but have been incredibly important in shaping me, my faith life, and my vocation: my time spent discerning a religious vocation, and my miscarriages.

I'll cover the miscarriages in part 2, but I wanted to talk about discerning the religious life in particular today.

I wrote some thoughts on vocations as a wannabe nun called to marriage a while back. A question I got a lot from sharing that story was: Do you regret spending all that time discerning when the answer was no?
No, I think it was still worth doing, and I encourage everyone to discern this particular path if at all possible. I didn't get too far along in the process of actually entering an order, but I have friends who became postulates, took temporary vows, and spent years pursuing the religious life vocation only to discern out. Did they take a "wrong road"?

Religious discernment is not just a single person talking God's ear off until they get a yes or no answer. It involves a deep awareness of self, an honest evaluation of strengths and weaknesses, and relationships with a whole host of people. I think everyone can agree all of those things are well worth doing in order to grow into a mature adult faith. Doing so in a religious community brings with it a fundamentally changed relationship between the discerning person and Jesus and his Church.

When a woman discerns a religious vocation, she is discerning marriage with Jesus. That is, at a basic level, what is happening.
Want to start seeing God as a person and not just a far off in the sky being? Try dating him.
To discern out means reaching a point where Jesus lets you know that you are not meant to become a Bride of Christ. It's awful and wonderful.

Those of us who discerned out will forever have a relationship with Jesus that has a different kind of intimacy. I have personally found a connection with others who discerned the religious life. There is a grace that comes from the act of putting the question to God "Is this what you want of me?"

Regrets don't come from the good you were open to pursuing, they come from failing to ask the question out of fear of the what ifs.

Check back next week for Part 2 and what this all means when applied to being open to life and losing your baby. Especially multiple times.