The joy that stirred me awake this morning shocked me. Excitement over this adventure? Excitement of greeting the sun? Excitement for today’s feast? Even your sister remarked about the beauty of today’s sunrise. “It looks like heaven,” she said. Yes. Indeed. I thought the same. Heaven...where you are. Heaven...where we will see you again. Heaven...where you celebrate today on this feast of St. Therese. Even the sky splashed your colors...orange, yellow, and pink. Beautifully and delicately arrayed like you. This morning the sun welcomed me into a new day, it left behind the tears of yesterday, and it stirred me on to start anew. To find beauty and love in big ways and small in the midst of the bittersweet reality of today’s anniversary. Even though the darkness finds me...the light does, too.Read More
Two years this Monday...October 1. The Feast of St. Therese. I had proof of your life growing within me. The inkling I had felt was proven true with two pink lines.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
Right now, I just need an escape.
An escape from this thing called life after loss; from this gray area of waiting.
Waiting for the pain to soften, for the memories to not break me in two, for the heaviness to lift.
I want a break.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
Where are you, my love? I cannot find you. Cannot feel you. You have left me. You are gone. Your life, departed from mine. A year ago yesterday, we had one another. One last day. Together.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
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
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
Heart of my heart
Flesh of my flesh.
I want to breathe you in
With my very breath.
Draw you close to me
Near to my heart.
Cling to you tightly,
Never to depart.Read More