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
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
Missing you deeply today, my love, but finding you in the in between...Read More
May is here. And May hurts. Because May means you will be gone...forever...until we are reunited in heaven.Read More
Last night while nursing him, he gave a slight resemblance to you, and I remembered staring down at your face in the hospital room in such disbelief. No matter how much I willed you to breathe or to move, no matter how much I begged God to change the outcome, I couldn’t change a thing. I was completely powerless.Read More
I’m a day late, my love. Yesterday, it was 11 months. How have we happened upon one month shy of a full year?
I know I haven’t written in a while, but so much has been moving and churning within the depths of my heart. It’s almost been too much to articulate admidst the exhaustion of daily life, grief, and pregnancy after loss. However, I think you know. You’ve witnessed it all.
Eleven months ago, my world came crashing down when I received the most unimaginable news of my life...your heart had stopped beating just two weeks shy of your expected due date.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
My heart knows that if it is truly God’s will, then I may indeed lose again. And I’m struggling to live in a state of acceptance with that truth. Because right now, I want what I want to be what He wants. And I want to understand. To see the bigger picture. And how this journey ends.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
I do not know where I am going. But I need to go SOMEWHERE.Read More
I went to the chapel one night, in the throes of my grief. Visceral memories of her delivery and remembering how I let God into the pain that day entered into my mind and heart. I felt the pain again. All of it. Physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional.Read More