Warning: May Contain Photos of a Pregnant Lady in a Bikini

Mark surprised me with an incredible mini-vacation in Laguna Beach. It was one of those romantic, every girl's dream, "I'm not telling you where we're going, but you'll need a bathing suit and a fancy dress" kind of weekends. We stayed at the gorgeous Laguna Inn and had dinner at Las Brisas, one of our favorite restaurants. We read by the pool, had breakfast delivered to our balcony, took walks on the beach; holding hands like sixteen year olds, went in search of the perfect mocha; and found it at a boutique french bakery, went tide-pooling, toured the artist community beach town, spent hours lying on the bed watching in awe as Ava twisted and turned; contorting my belly into all sorts of entertaining shapes, and slept with the sliding glass door open listening to the waves all night. It was perfect. 

 

We were in desperate need of it too. The phrase "two ships passing in the night" describes our marriage all too often. With Mark not leaving the house until midnight to start a shift some nights, to coming home from shifts at 3:30am other nights, it's oftentimes hard to connect. Some weeks our only form of communication is text messaging and my half-asleep nods to acknowledge he's getting into bed, forget about "How was your day honey?" It's rough, but God always seems to provide sweet time for us together right when we feel like we're barely hanging on by a thread and need it the most.