The poet William Wordsworth once wrote, "fill the paper with the breathings of your heart".  Writers need to write.  It is stress relief, it is cathartic, it is important.  Some need to run, some need to draw, some need to yell and scream.  Writing has always made me feel better; like getting a thousand pounds off my chest.  It is freeing.

This blog takes on many different functions for me.  I wrestle with it sometimes.  Do I want to be as outspoken as I am sometimes?  Do I want it to be a diary?  If my kids read it in 15 years would I be proud? Do I want to be so public with my emotions and feelings and opinions?

I honestly don't have good answer for what I want it to be.  It just is.  I guess if I were to say something to Kate and Connor who might read this in 15 years - this blog is a good reflection of me.  Imperfect. Changing. Rough around the edges. An example of how in life it is okay to be happy and sad.  It is okay to be an open person.

We are entering our last week at Fort Leavenworth.  Moving again in the deep freeze of December and heading west to Southern California.  I'm excited about California.  I love the warmth and the ocean and I have always had a strange affinity for palm trees.  John even looked all over Pensacola for an apartment with some palm trees when he started flight school over a decade ago.  He knew the palm trees would put a smile on my face as we embarked on this crazy life together.  Our new house has palm trees in the driveway.  I can't tell you how excited that makes me.

But sadly, I'm not all sunshine this week.  It has actually been a remarkably sad few time for me.  Moving is hard.  The holidays are stressful. And as I approach the due date of our most recent loss I find myself in a trifecta of hurt.  When I watched the tree lighting at Rockefeller Center I burst into tears.  When I got pregnant last spring, I imagined us preparing for a new baby around a Christmas tree.  Instead, I see boxes and moving tape and no tree at all.  And no baby.  And it sucks.

This surge of emotion has taught me an important lesson about grieving. If you don't do it when the bad stuff happens it will eventually find it's way to you again.  I moved on from my most recent miscarriage with much more poise and grace than my first two.  But as I approach my due date I find myself sadder than I ever was at this point.  A good lesson in letting myself grieve.  It isn't weak to mourn your losses; it is healthy and necessary.

Moving around the holidays is never ideal.  My kids are at a magical age where I want to admire them looking up at a tree in their Christmas jammies. Instead I am explaining why they are leaving their familiar bedroom, schools, and friends.  It is too fast.  We just did this last year.  348 days ago we moved in and we are already packing up.

Packers come tomorrow, the moving truck comes Wednesday, John graduates on Friday and we are headed west to Denver that afternoon.  I am praying for peace; to be okay with this holiday season surrounded by boxes and without my extended family.  To get through our baby's due date gracefully and without too much pain.  I know I have many blessings and I know everything will be okay.  This is a season and things will look up soon.

This is what is on my heart right now.  Thanks for listening.