My Small Army

Emoji

 

Meet my emoticon family.

 

David is on the left, as made evident by the dark mustache and piercing eyes. Screams “manly,” I know.

Coming in second is me! I have no eyes or hands but, hey, I kill it in that red dress.

And then there’s our fat pig of a dog, Cheeks.

 

Sometimes on those dreary days when the world seems downright unfair, I will send David a text bemoaning the drudgeries of life (I know, I know. Life is real hard when you have a roof over your head and food on the table). Almost always, I can expect his response to be the same. My phone will inevitably light up and I will find all three of these emoticons resting side-by-side, staring back at me. And you know what? It brings me unspeakable joy. My heart fills with pride when I see this pixilated trio populate my screen, because amidst the uncertainty life so expertly throws our way, I know that I have a team and that they are in my corner, earnestly rooting me on in everything I do. Yes, even that adorably fat, furry creature.

 

And truth be told, life has thrown us some curveballs. On most days, those curveballs, they aim and they miss. But then there are those days where that ball, it heads straight for my heart. I see it coming, that ol’ persistent thing, and then… BOOM! Flawless aim. And suddenly, my eyes fill with tears and my heart, it aches with unspeakable longing. And that dreadful curveball, it anchors itself on top of that aching heart of mine — scratching, clawing, willing itself inside. But my team, my unconditionally supportive and resilient team, they arise with that transcendent strength of love — my husband with his outstretched arms, and our fat, furry creature following not too far behind. They surround me to weep with me, to restore me, and then to fight with me. Together we mount our efforts against that stupid curveball. We huddle tight in hurried whispers to plan our next move. And then, me and my small army, we dominate.


But then there’s this Goliath of a curveball we have been dealt. Our tiny necks crane back to see the sheer scope of this behemoth. And this monster, it snickers at our futile attempts to quell it, because this infertility, it sends in a constant barrage of reinforcements to dishearten this little army of mine — this! and this! and this! But these minor attacks pale in comparison to the mountain we must climb in order to get to the final battle with this beast. I see this mountain and I tremble, because the journey up is an arduous one. It is filled with testing, and financial strain, and hormonal supplements. But this army of mine, they inch me forward. And up we go to slay the dragon.

Together.

Always together.

Blog-10---Gas-2

4 thoughts on “My Small Army

  1. Brittany~Saw your husband at Steubenville NW this past weekend! He is AMAZING! You are too! Love your blog! Know that our youth group here in Cottonwood, Idaho is going to keep the two of you (and Cheeks) in our prayers~storming Heaven on your behalf, that God will bless you with children! St. Bernadette of Lourdes, pay for us!

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