“I will send out an army to find you in the middle of the darkest night...
I will never stop marchin’ to reach you in the middle of the hardest fight...
I hear you whisper underneath your breath. I hear you whisper you have nothing left...
It’s true, I will rescue you...”Read More
“The friendship which can cease has never been real.” (St. Jerome)Read More
Six months. Today, we celebrate six months of life. It’s your little brother’s half birthday. As I type this, he’s cuddled close to me, sucking on his pacifier, while his softie is nestled into his neck and lullabies lull him to sleep. It’s beautiful. But it stings. It’s bittersweet... I’m overcome with love for him and the joy he brings me to the point that I’m overwhelmed and brought to tears. His breaths fall heavily on my arm, while you remained so still. His little life, in my arms, because your life slipped through my hands. Death literally passed through me, so a new life could be planted. Could grow. Could resurrect from the darkness and bring to fruition a redemption I had not thought possible. There’s so much guilt. But there’s so much love. And grief, it still remains.Read More
Who am I now? How has this experience changed me? I hesitate to even call it an experience. It was and is so much more than that. It was stillbirth. It was losing a child. It is loss. And it is grief. But nonetheless, I am different.
Transformed, however, makes it seem as though I have come to the end of this difficult road. I am ever evolving. Ever changing. In each day, each moment, in each breath...I am transforming.Read More
Healing has been a process of surrendering, remembering, and waiting. It has been allowing the emotions and the memories to surface. It has been going through the pain and not stuffing it away. It has been allowing the gaping wounds to be exposed to the light. It has been counseling, and writing, and graveside visits. It has been nights of endless tears and crying to the point of vomiting and being unable to breathe. It has been going through your memory box and looking at your pictures. Meeting others in their suffering and talking about real and hard things. It has been allowing others to love me and admitting that I can’t do it all. It has been an attempt to trust, and getting let down—but trying again anyway. It has been acknowledging my pain, giving it a name, and being okay with who I am now. It has been accepting what life after loss looks like, moving one step forward, one day at a time. And it has also been taking steps backward. It has been losing relationships, losing friends, and letting go of the expectations I place on myself and others.
Healing has been allowing the old wound to touch this new wound. It has been waiting in joyful hope.
And healing will come because you existed.
Healing will come, because of you.
My healing baby.Read More
I shut my eyes in hopes of dreaming of you. Of finding you. Of you finding me.
I see you in my mind’s eye, and I speak your name on my heart. It rests on my tongue in a quiet sigh. No sound comes out. It’s stifled. Unreleased.
I wrap my arms around my shoulders, clenching myself tightly. I envision the weight of your small body against mine. Leaning into me. Pressing against me. Delicate arms wrapped tightly around me with your tiny jaw embedded into the nape of my neck.
In the bed. Holding you. Holding me. I need you to hold me.
I miss you so much.Read More
There’s a deep ache in me that permeates every fiber of my being. A longing. A stillness. A quiet. It’s incomplete and completely painful. It swallows me whole and consumes my existence. It’s presses hard and captures me. I’m suffocating.Read More
I guess I just don’t want people to assume that I am okay, that my husband is okay, that we are okay, or that our family is OKAY. Or to assume that a smile on my face means that I am “better.” That because I hold a babe in my arms, I am over not holding her. That because it’s been a year, life is back to “normal.” We are not fully functioning. We are just trying to make it through another day. Just as pregnancy after loss was unbearably brutal, parenting after loss has been a beast of its own. I look around and see all the ways our lives have unraveled over the past thirteen months. Life still seems so out of control.
…nothing is permanent. Everything is passing. Something that sure, we all know, but those who grieve learn the reality all too well.Read More
After all, I am trying to mother a child who is always missing...that in itself is exhausting and overwhelming and will be part of me forever.Read More
“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” (Rose Kennedy)Read More
Being home with your little brother, I’m so very much reminded of those early days at home without you. I sit on the sofa, nursing him, holding him tight, gazing at his small frame and features, and I listen to the birds sing outside and dive and dance in and out of our yard. And I see you, colorless and empty of life, in a cold, dark hospital room. And I remember how I came home and slept all night, stayed in bed until the afternoon, didn’t eat, and cried every waking hour and in between. I’m reminded of how my body continued to move on without you...Read More
My anger hasn’t been lying dormant by any means, but recently it has been making its way to the surface in bouts of explosions and eruptions. And today is no different. Can I make excuses for myself?Read More
That night, at mass, the message of surrender. Giving it all to God. Living with open hands. Wanting God more than anything. The story of Abraham, willing to sacrifice his son for love of God...I felt ashamed. Because in the midst of all of this, if I had a choice, if I could go back in time, if I could write this story’s ending...I wouldn’t choose loss. I wouldn’t choose your death. I wouldn’t choose sacrifice, or this cross, or this grief. I would choose to be your Mom this side of heaven. The words of our pastor carved into me, and I thought I might bleed out, but I didn’t want to release my emotions. I swallowed them down hard and pretended to be unbothered. I was convicted, but not convinced. I was divided.Read More
How is it that you’ve been gone for as long as you were with me? From 38 weeks of growing you, to 38 weeks of life without you.
Time looks so differently.Read More
You know me inside out. You know what I can’t comprehend or articulate.You know me. Let me know who I am. Let me know you.Read More
“O soul, steeped in darkness, do not despair. All is not yet lost. Come and confide in your God, Who is Love and Mercy.” (St. Faustina)Read More