My fingers tap keys as my brain tries translate emotion into words on a screen.
Aches and pain, worries, tears, prayers and fears.  Little joys along the way sprinkled in
to keep the hope alive in our hearts.  My fingers furiously tap at these black keys, trying to
make sense of all that has happened.  Trying to process what my mind and heart still haven't
been able to.
My story is our story, a story shared by the 5 of us.  My truly precious husband, who faces fear head on, me-- or at least a strange new version of myself, relying heavily on the strength of others, while still surprising myself with the new knowledge that I am also strong. Our three little birds, our amazing beyond words boys, each fighting for normalcy in their own way.  This story also belongs to the Lord who is good, who is our healer, and who uses everything, even the darkest hours for good.