Cove David Warren

Cove David, you are worth the wait. You are worth the pain, the tears, the are worth it all. I have loved every second with you and cannot believe how lucky I am to be your mommy. We can't wait to meet you!! Here are some sweet photos of how we announced we were pregnant!

Cove was a name Josh actually brought up and loved, it grew on me over time. We talked about it a couple years ago and it made it's way up to the top of the list when it was time. When I became pregnant, I said, "if it's a boy, I think it's Cove in there!" 

We love that Cove is unique but strong and masculine. We anchored it with a more traditional middle name, David, after Josh's middle name. Josh was named after his late Grandpa Dave, whom he loved and adored. Most of you know him as the Coca Cola Grandpa and the reason we Warren's collect Coke memorabilia / why Josh has Coca Cola tattoo'd on his inner arm. We are so happy to pass down his name and continue honoring his beloved Grandpa. 

All our photos were taken by our good friend, Mr Jon Deviny! Thank you so much Jon for lending us your talent, to his beautiful wife for being his assistant and my cheerleader, and to little Oliver for being the cutest baby ever. You guys are the best.

Can't wait to post some of my favorite pregnancy selfies later this week! Follow me on Instagram to see more of em :)



M. I. A.

Man, oh man has life been changing since I checked in last. Big changes! Biggest (and best) change of all, I am pregnant again! I am carrying our sweet little boy, Mr. Cove David Warren. Not a day goes by that I don't praise Jesus for blessing me with this sweet life that I am carrying and the gift of raising a son. But just to make matters that much more exciting, we decided to move back to California...before Cove is born. While I am 8 months pregnant. We cray over here. 


Moving to Bellingham was such a process! It was fast in a way, but it was also this long process of prayer and interviewing at Logos for Josh also. This has been a process of preparing our hearts and things lining up. We both had the desire to be closer to our family and friends while raising our family and then also Josh being ready for a new challenge at work. Both our heads and hearts lined up right on time for us to decide to move before Cove is here rather than after.

This decision is so bittersweet. My heart aches and longs to be closer to my family and to raise my kids with my friends that are like family to me... but I also love the life we have here in Bellingham. I feel a deep tinge of sadness imagining our lives not here in the beautiful North West. We have been blessed with amazing, wonderful, warm and lifelong friends. We are in awe of Washington's beauty on a daily basis. We get to wear really cute coats, scarves, and beanies for function not just fashion. I have always deeply loved and craved fall, a true fall, and living here, I relish in every single day of it. But above all, I think it's deeper than my love of fall and PNW style. I love the life I have with my sweet husband, just us two. In our crazy adventure. 

This adventure has been beautiful, but deep, with it's fair share of "how the heck do we do this?" that only adventure can bring. At times, to be quite honest, this adventure was dark. Some of my darkest days were here, in this desert where yes, it looks opposite of a desert. But there is not a shadow of a doubt that Jesus led us away from our tribe, into this "desert." Not to be cruel like that can sound. Not for one second did God take joy in the need to have us weather this storm just us two. The thing is though, God knew we had to do it, just Josh and I. Never was I lonely. Was it hard and painful and down right ugly at times? Yes, to be honest it was. I am who I am, strong and full of grace, because of this desert. I know now I could have never gone through this with my dependence on our tribe. This desert was never to be cruel or to harm, it was always meant to strengthen and sharpen, and that is has. 

 Here, The Lord has refined us, shaped, molded, grown, challenged, and tested both of us individually and together. In ways, our faith came our stronger, in ways it hasn't. That's the truth. The truth is, there are days that the fire of refinement is still burning and God is still molding. But isn't that life here, seemingly always, until we go home? Just like in every great adventure, the darkness doesn't last long, it can't. In the darkness, you took a step of faith, one in front of the other, knowing that dawn would break, eventually. You knew, even in your moments of doubt and fear, that light would come, faithful to rise. The light dawns, the sun rises on you, warming your skin, and you are blessed with this beautiful landscape that you couldn't see in the night when you were afraid of the dark. You gasp and wonder and how you ever could have doubted that light would come and the beauty around you.

My heart and prayer in this move, as so many of you know, or have read along here with me, was to look more like Jesus. I have seen that. I have seen Jesus more. I have been tested to be more like Jesus than I ever thought He would ask me. But He is here. He is working. And He is good. Always, even when it hurts like hell.

Now I see that there is so much of me and of Josh that will be left here. Here, where we found a new freedom. The freedom to be here, right here. The freedom to be right where you are and to only be the real you. That is a gift from The Lord that set us both free. The freedom, to see your spouse in the most honest and vulnerable state, even when you don't agree or see eye to eye, and saying, "I love you, all of you" and meaning it. The willingness to share that truth or darkness, carrying each other through the night...that's true intimacy. We have learned to love each other above all else, more than you love yourself. There is no price on that freedom. 


As we transition into this next chapter, there is this overwhelming sense of peace in a time where honestly, nothing is set in stone to make us feel "comforted" other than the fact that I know our God provides. We are moving to a place that we haven't lived before, where we both will be owning our own businesses, where we still don't have a place to live yet, and, oh yeah, we will soon be bringing a little life into this crazy world. But you know what? When God opens a door, he opens it with ways to provide for his kids. He opens a door to prosper, not harm. He has not failed us and I know he won't start now. There is this great confidence that you find in trusting His plan. Our boy is not only living proof of that faithfulness, but he will be born into it. Cove will get to watch his mommy and daddy chase their dreams and watch their willing hearts. I am thankful that my little boy will know his family deeper, that he will grow up with my best friends kids, running wild with them. When he can't or won't talk to Josh or I, he will have so many people that will be strong, powerful, loving leaders in his life. I'm thankful I will have the opportunity to achieve my dream of finally owning my own salon, and my son will see his mama work hard for her passions and art. I'm ecstatic to see where Josh's career leads. Josh will have incredible opportunities for his career in southern CA, the world is that man's oyster I tell you. 

Thank you guys for caring. Thank you guys for your prayers. Thank you guys for your joy with us as we become parents! Thank you for your support as we head home to our favorite State of sunshine :) 

I will be making blogging more of a priority and have missed being here so much!!! 


Love always,


this season

This season has been full, then empty, and then somewhere in between. This season of holidays was warm, full, and had more joy than ever before in one little (but huge) way...we were expecting our first baby! We found out right before Thanksgiving that we had gotten pregnant just weeks ago after getting off our birth control. This was a really big surprise because the doctors have been telling me for years that we might have a hard time conceiving because I had low progesterone causing me to not ovulate regularly. We were so surprised and excited that it happened just weeks after getting off the pill! 

We tried to keep our secret from our family over Thanksgiving, but with the wine flowing and sushi being a favorite meal, I was unsuccessful in being sneaky. We told my family that we were 5 or 6 weeks pregnant, but decided we really wanted to wait to tell everyone else on Christmas after we had our ultrasound. The timing was too perfect not to nail the best Christmas gift ever. 


I had a really good first 8 1/2 weeks, just very tired and hungry, but really if you know me, you know this is totally normal. I was so excited to also be pregnant with one of my best friends, just weeks behind her. It was so fun to have her to share every step of the way with, talking sore boobs & our pants starting to get snug. 

A couple days before my first check up at 9 weeks, I started spotting and tried not to panic. I knew some spotting was normal but the longer it went on throughout the weekend, the less hopeful I felt. By Monday afternoon, I had started to naturally pass the baby. It was awful. I tried to remain optimistic because I have had friends have miracle babies through worse. But ultimately, our babe was gone that day. It was awful. Two days before Christmas, the day I should have been 9 weeks, we said good bye to our little bug. 

I am far enough away from that day now to think a little bit more clearly, and process the pain as much as possible for now. I see God's tender hand in it all, protecting me, sheltering me, and healing me through it all. I was so sad to not have seen our baby in utero at all, but in that same thought, I am so deeply thankful to not have had to have seen the baby there lifeless. I am thankful that my body did it's job in letting my baby go peacefully and that I didn't have to have a D&C on top of everything. 

Processing it all has been the weirdest of it all. You are just so sad. There isn't really a better way of saying it. I did feel some anger, but mainly just a huge heaping pile of sadness. I think in the beginning, I was angry that I wasn't pregnant and that I would get pregnant again. I didn't want to start all over again, I wanted to be 10 weeks next Monday. Obviously, not being realistic at that moment. I realized that it wasn't about the baby, that feeling was selfishly just for me. The aching hurt of the loss of that baby is deeper and more complex than the part of me that stomps her foot and says, "No! I want it now." That deeper part of the ache of a loss is still a mystery that I wind through each day, trying to learn something as I go.

Christmas came and went, different than any other. Different because we lived in Washington without any family. Different because there was this underlying sadness in me. I rejoiced in the birth of my Savior, clinging more than ever to the promise that His birth was, but my eyes held back tears. Tears that fell in the kitchen as we made Christmas dinner. In that sadness though, that day was still so full, that day was full indeed. That day was filled with friends that feel like family. Full of face timing with our families across the country. That day was full of rest, new light, the promise of a Savior against all odds, and learning to heal. 

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.
— Genesis 50:20

This season of life feels like the season that I see all around me. Bare tree limbs, cold brisk air, decomposing leaves and twigs all over the ground... The joy comes in the fact that the stormy rain is breaking down each fallen leaf, nourishing the ground, and deepening my roots in the ground. When spring blossoms, summer comes, and fall graces me...this will all make sense and my roots will be that much deeper. This will be a time we reflect on fondly. We will think of this season with admiration for it's bare beauty. It's simplest, cold, wet, bare beauty. 

This season is full of too many lessons to count right now. I am still only beginning to understand the half of them. One that was presented to me so perfectly the other day was the importance of being there for each other. Showing up, showing love, being love, and sending love. I cannot tell you how loved I felt going through our miscarriage. I felt so deeply cared for, prayed for, and felt for. It was even the "likes" on instagram and facebook, and it was without a doubt the comments full of love and thoughts. It was the women who reached out by texting, messaging, calling, and emailing me - sharing with me their losses and stories. I cried. I cried reading each and every single one. What a pain our hearts feel in the loss of the smallest babe. We felt loved and cared for in the meals people dropped off. The flowers that we got. The cards full of loving words. There are too many ways to count that our friends, family, and coworkers went out of their way to show us that we were not alone. That we were cared for, that we were loved deeply, and our baby was acknowledged and loved too.  Acknowledging our little bug was so deeply important to me, that was why I shared. I couldn't go on and act like I wasn't just pregnant and hadn't experienced everything I just had. 

Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of The Lord.
— Job 1:21

Which leads me back to what I have learned through up. If you want someone to know you care, show up. Be there. Simple as that. You don't have to have the right thing to say, in fact, you can actually say the words "I don't know what to say." but just be there. Reading through Job the other day, I was moved as this is what his three friends did after Job had lost his children and all of his land, and was in terrible health... they showed up. They were moved, they came to him, they cry and weep, they tear their robes, and sprinkle themselves with dirt. They wept with him there for a full week. Not one of them gave some huge great sermon to Job, it actually says no one said a word for they saw his suffering was great, they just showed up. He had just experienced something no words could fix, so they just shared in his pain. That is a beautiful portrait of friendship. 

 Or as my client said the other day, when she was asking her friend who had lost a child in the past what to say to her friend who had also just lost their child, she said "Show up and shut up." People do not expect you to have the right thing to say. There rarely is anything right to say other than, I love you. If you can't say that, find a way to show it. A pastor I heard the other day said the number one importance of a ministry marked life is the willingness to put your body in the middle of the mess. We can't be afraid of the lack of words, condolences, or knowledge to stand in the way of loving one another. Don't be afraid that you are overstepping your boundaries by saying something, by bringing someone dinner or by showing up. You might be the only one who does, or you might be the one who says something that truly gets through. 

Each day is a step towards health, emotionally and physically. Mentally preparing and eagerly awaiting the day that I get to be pregnant again. The blessing that it is to grow a child in your body will never be lost on me. The love that I feel for that sweet babe who is with my Mimi and Josh's grandpa in heaven will never lose that place in my heart. That baby made me a mom, Josh a dad, my parents grandparents, and marked the beginning of growing our family. 

A mother’s heart whose heart is bound to her child’s? That doesn’t compare to how our Father’s heart is bound to you.
— Isaiah 49:15

I'm thankful in this desert season, this season of winter, where things feel empty. I know the beauty of each season, and I thank God fully for this trial. I don't believe (and kind of hate the saying) in God giving us only what we can handle, I believe that our God is fully for us. Trials, pain, hurt, disappointments, failures, losses...those are fire that our good Lord uses for good to refine us. Lord refine me through this flame. Let my life look like you and give glory to your holy name. 

Thank you all for your love, your prayers, your thoughts, your gifts, your blessings, and the true friendship through not just the good but through the hard. I will sincerely cherish it forever.

With love,

Lexi Loo

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.
— Joshua 1:9