• 2018,  BabyA2012,  Grieving Mom

    12 weeks

    It’s *only* been 12 weeks today. It feels like an eternity. We’ve been missing you more this week. It seems to be a common trend. Each week the pain, the grief, the missing you grows and grows. I think my mind is still trying to protect my heart from the reality of it all even though there is no escaping it. This has been the longest 12 weeks of my life. I’m dreading the back to school rush and excitement. I want to be taking your picture in front of our purple door and watch you excitedly go to school. I just still can’t comprehend you are gone. You should…

  • 2018,  Grieving Mom,  JAA,  reflection,  Relationships

    12 Years

    Yesterday marked 12 years since I walked down the aisle to the most amazing human I have the pleasure of spending my days with. It is the first year I didn’t make a publicly acknowledge or write a blog or do much of anything to say that it was our anniversary. Heck, privately we didn’t really acknowledge it either. We woke and said “happy anniversary” and then I apologized that I didn’t do anything this year. No card. No surprises. No plans. Nada. Nothing. John didn’t either. We were on the same page that this year luckily, we just didn’t feel like celebrating. And that is perfectly ok. Just a hug…

  • 2018,  BabyA2012,  Grieving Mom

    Day 57

    I hope you didn’t suffer. They say you didn’t. I hope you didn’t know what was happening. They suspect you had no idea but without a reason we will never know for sure. I hope you only felt all the love that fills this house and constantly surrounded you and drifted peacefully off to sleep. It haunts me that I wasn’t there. That your Dad wasn’t there. We were completely unaware what was happening in our little house. It haunts me and will forever. After everything how did we not at least get the chance to hold you and surround you with love for your last minutes. It wouldn’t have changed anything…

  • 2018,  BabyA2012,  Grieving Mom


    See that? See that line or shadow in the circle on my bedroom ceiling? It might be hard to see in the photo but it’s not hard to see in person. I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling one day after Noah passed and my eyes fixated on this spot. I began to wonder what it was. Where did it come from? How couldn’t I ever have noticed it before? It is on “my side” after all. Right above my spot really. Then it hit me. Like a Mac truck. I *know* what it is. I’ve had similar lines throughout my house in the last 6 years. Sometimes on…

  • 2018,  BabyA2012,  Grieving Mom

    Intense Love = Intense Pain

    Coming up on the first month of firsts since Noah and it’s getting so much harder. With each passing second I miss that face, that palsy smile and kiss, that awkward gait he had when he walked, those tickle fingers, and even those sneaky fingers creating mischief just a little bit more. Sadly, being part of the CHARGE community I have seen friends and acquaintances and strangers go through this immense loss and I shed tears at home along with them and always wondered to myself: How do you come back from losing a child? From this? Now I know. You don’t. You can’t. A piece of you is gone…


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