something glorious

Rhythms are a force to be reckoned with. There are those rhythms that we can’t help but notice: our daily sleep-wake patterns; as women, our monthly menstrual cycles; and as mothers, the rhythm that reminds us that our 3 ½ year old must still squeeze in an afternoon nap, lest she transform from beloved child into braying beast.

On the flip side, there are rhythms that rush steady and deep through the core of our lives, subterranean rivers affecting us just as profoundly, yet more easily passing under the radar of our notice. Today I find myself struck by one of these strong, yet subtle rhythms.

As you can see, the last entry posted on my blog prior to today was added on Monday, September 10th: the day that we tragically lost our second child to miscarriage.

In the months following, there were at least a dozen valid reasons for my blogging to wane- the hectic pace of 2 working parents, the craziness involved in trying to sell a house in the current market, and the fact that the ‘terrible twos’ are, in my opinion, a myth fully eclipsed by the trials of ‘3.’

And yet, as I sit today to revive my blog, I can’t help but be acutely aware, and a tad amazed, that my voice is returning on April 3rd- just 3 days shy of the date on which we expected to usher another human life into the world. There’s not much more to say than that. In the aching absence of laboring to bring life and breath to our second child, I suppose there are other things (related things) ready to be birthed out of me. Hence, my intrepid return to the blogosphere.

Incidentally, we named the child that we lost last Fall. We named her Wren, after reading this characterization of the species, and finding it both entirely and eerily fitting:

They are mainly small and inconspicuous except for their loud and often complex songs.