It doesn’t happen very often anymore. That surge of anger and rage that punches through me out of nowhere. That fierce explosion of fury at the utter unfairness of it all. My babies are dead. My babies who shouldn’t be babies anymore. My life, filled with that unspoken, indescribable emptiness that Continue Reading …
There are so many things about my daughters’ lives, my sweet babies who both died before birth, that I simply don’t remember. It pains me to admit that. So many loss moms talk about due dates and “angelversaries” and the day they found out they were pregnant and dates of Continue Reading …
I keep trying to write about receiving support after the death of our precious babies – how to ask for it, how to accept it, and the difficulties of both. Instead, I find myself crying and the words get jumbled up in my head. If I had any Achilles Heel Continue Reading …
I don’t know what she looks like, but I see her everywhere. I see her darting in and out among the kids off to school. I see her in the nighttime, tucked away in bed. I see her beside me in the car – some days quiet, too annoyed to Continue Reading …
Someone recently asked me if there was any one thing, one most important thing, I would ask of people around the death and grief of my daughters’ deaths. I was surprised at how easily my answer came – there are so many things I could say, but this quickly arose Continue Reading …
I’ve been pretty quiet lately. I keep sitting down to write and coming up blank on what to write about – and to be honest, feeling a little guilty. Why guilty? Because, overall, things are going well. I feel pretty good most days. Happy. Purposeful. Challenged by new experiences. Grateful Continue Reading …
“If it weren’t for my older son/daughter, I don’t think I could survive.” “Without my living children, I don’t think I would have found anything worth living for.” “If I hadn’t had my rainbow baby, I don’t know if I could have found hope again.” “I just don’t know if Continue Reading …
You are a mother, now and always. You did not cause this. You are an amazing mother who did the very best she could. This is not your fault. You are not alone. You are allowed to grieve. As much, as long, and however you need to – you are Continue Reading …
It’s hard, I imagine, to really understand the pain and longings of an invisible mother – a mother without any living children. To understand the unbelievable ache to hold the child you love with every beat of your heart. The idea of having one’s only or all their children die Continue Reading …
I am a mother who lives without her children here to hold. I am a mother who grieves her children and will long for them until the day I leave this earth. 1. I can experience grief and joy, pain and love – often at the same time What I Continue Reading …
New Year’s is one of my favorite holidays. I love the sense of a fresh start, the chance to review the good and the bad of the previous year and consider what I want to create in the next year. Even though I know it’s an arbitrary date on a Continue Reading …
Dear Invisible Mother, You are a beautiful mother. It takes bravery and courage and profound love to mother a child you cannot see or hold or touch. You are strong. Whether you feel strong or not, you are. Even when you are on your knees in tears. Even when you Continue Reading …
I’m not sure when it happened. I spent so many years living with the terrible ache and grief accompanied by the thought, “How can I still be here, alive and breathing, while my baby is dead?” It was a question that rippled through my life causing waves of grief and Continue Reading …
A few weeks ago I finally held the print copy of my book, Invisible Mothers, in my hands, this beautiful book that I have worked so hard to write and create over the last 2 years. I was excited, nervous, giddy with anticipation, and painfully sad. I am so deeply Continue Reading …
Losing you tore my world apart. Your death laid bare a desolate landscape on which I lay for years, fighting to breath in the broken, painful place called life after loss. My sweet baby girl, losing you was hell on earth. I would still choose you. Your life with me Continue Reading …
When I was younger, I never thought about having kids. I thought about my career and getting married someday, about where I wanted to live and the difference I wanted to make in the world, about the places I wanted to see and the experiences I wanted to have. Having Continue Reading …
Dear New Mama, This is hard. So very hard. You expected to be holding your beautiful, warm, breathing, wiggly baby in your arms. You expected sweet baby scent and the joys of tiny baby fingers and toes. You expected diaper changes, midnight feedings, and proudly introducing your beautiful little one Continue Reading …
For several years after my first daughter died, every time I looked in the mirror it was like looking at a stranger. I would look at my reflection and think, “I don’t know you. Who are you?” Even now, twelve years Grace’s stillbirth, I still occasionally look at my reflection Continue Reading …
I am continually surprised at just when and how the effects of grief and loss suddenly pop up and knock me off my feet, even after so many years of living with it. A simple rear-ending. Someone got distracted and hit me from behind. Well, my third hit from behind Continue Reading …
Father’s Day is an odd day in my world. I’m grateful that I still have my father, whom I adore, and I have fun finding both silly and sweet cards for him and making sure to talk with him on the phone that day (since he lives 1200 miles away). Continue Reading …
If my daughter had lived, she would be 12 years old. She would be dealing with the challenges of middle school girls, heading fast into her teenage years, figuring out who she is as a young person, and, if she was anything like her mother, determined to do everything her Continue Reading …
June. You are summertime and sunshine. Fireflies and fragrant lilies. Sweet memories and love. Sweet possibilities and half-formed dreams. June. You are also bitter tears and broken hearts. Loss and tangled shadows. Darkness after the light goes out. Tattered dreams and deep, deep sorrow. June is Lily’s month. Lily was Continue Reading …
I am a mother, but I have no living children. I have two daughters that I grieve for and miss every day. I always will. Their loss is the greatest sorrow of my life. It’s challenging, at times, to live in a world that doesn’t want to recognize their lives. Continue Reading …
Ah, Mother’s Day. Hands down my least favorite holiday of the year. Mother’s Day has been an emotional challenge for me for years. Twelve years to be exact; every year since my first daughter was born still. I’ve handled it, and my grief around it, in various ways over the years. Continue Reading …
