I'm OK.

"How are you doing?"

For such a long time, that was a very difficult question to answer. People would ask (genuinely or to be polite) and my brain would scramble to find an honest response. I started to really hate being asked. There were times I didn't FEEL okay, even though I still knew I was.

The response in my head was always two-toned. I was blessed and I was devastated. To respond with one seemed to devalue the other. I was at peace and I was pained. I was heartbroken and yet still thankful. I was exhausted, and had some pretty significant work-related anxiety for a while, but I was amazed at how God was working.

There were times I'd say "OK" just because it was easier than having to go into what all I did feel. Some people really want to know, others do not. There were also times that I couldn't say I was OK without feeling like I was lying. I was struggling to function. I started saying something like, "I'll be okay." I trusted I would feel okay again eventually, but I wasn't then.

Sometimes I wonder, What would feeling "great" really mean? I feel blessed and thankful, but I'm not sure "great" will ever be my answer anymore (This side of Heaven, anyway). But I'm okay with that. I have so much to be thankful for. I feel loved and amazed by God's presence. I feel hopeful and excited about God's plans.

There are still difficult days when the impact of the whole journey just seems to hit me full force again, and days where every little thing reminds me of how much I miss my sweet little Carys Rainn. Last night, I got all choked up and teary reading "Piglet's Rainy Day" to Paxton. It was one of the only things I bought for Paxton while I was pregnant (other than necessities) and I've read it to him many times, but last night it just hit me differently.

"It rained for days and days and days." Wow. I've been there.

"And each day he gets a little more anxious as the rain creeps higher and higher." Some days I felt like I was going to drown in it all.

"Piglet wonders if someone might come and rescue him if he writes a message, puts it in a bottle, and throws it in the water." Piglet's cries for help made their way to Christopher Robin. Mine made their way to Christ.

Piglet and I Both survived the flood. We're OK, and we're blessed.

Some days I will still cry at the smallest thing, but I'm okay with that. I'm blessed and I'm thankful.

Piglet's Rainy Day By Penguin Putnam Inc.