We're pregnant.* It feels like this sort of announcement deserves an asterisk. So, if you've found your way here from facebook or instagram or elsewhere, here goes nothing: It is with cautious optimism, much fear, and a healthy dose of hope, that Scott and I announced this morning that we are expecting our "rainbow" babies … Continue reading Double Rainbows.
A year and a half. Eighteen months. Five hundred fifty days. Thirteen thousand two hundred hours. Seven hundred ninety two thousand minutes. If you ever wonder what it is like to have lost a child, look at those numbers. And then imagine every single one of those moments--every second--filled with the void of a missing … Continue reading Eighteen Months.
I used to love New Years. Reflecting on the past year. Setting ambitious goals for the new year. Turning over to a fresh start on a new calendar. It all felt so empowering. It was exciting. Infinite potential. Blank canvases. Opportunity. But all of that is different now. Like so much else in my life, … Continue reading Hopes and Fears of all the Years.
It's been two months since the last time I wrote. My thirty third birthday, Thanksgiving, and the start of the holiday season--our second without Alexander--have all made their appearances. December is here again. The ninth of the month is here again. Seventeen months. I remember a friend saying to me soon after losing Alexander that … Continue reading Seventeen Months.
I have thought about him since the moment I woke up this morning. October 9. Fifteen months since we held him. One year since we held his memorial service. Today is Alexander's day. Oh, that sweet boy. A dear friend reminded me tonight of something I said at some point this year: "I thought I … Continue reading Fifteen Months.
The weather is breaking in southwest Ohio. Leaves are starting to turn and there is a crispness to the air. Flannel shirts, pumpkin spice everything, and pumpkins and gourds are everywhere. Despite the fact that last Sunday, we spent the third official day of autumn sitting poolside and sunning ourselves, and as I cling tightly to … Continue reading October, Fall, and PAIL Awareness
Tomorrow morning if you wake up, And the sun does not appear I, I will be here If in the dark we lose sight of love, Hold my hand, and have no fear Cause I, I will be here I will be here when you feel like being quiet When you need to speak your … Continue reading Eight Years.