Baby Love…you were here for a moment and loved for a lifetime

I remember staring at the wall of the shower as the water poured over me. Arguing with God that I had already given him my son. Why did he take my Hope too?


Why was I suffering and losing another child? I talk so much about Logan, but 2 years ago I walked into the ER with my 3 year old on my hip, hoping the bleeding wasn’t what I’d feared. That this baby was supposed to be our renewal, our “Baby Love”.


Instead we got the news we feared, there’s no longer a heartbeat, and baby love had stopped growing 4 weeks prior.

I thought afterwards that maybe having another baby in our house wasn’t something I was meant to walk again. If you’ve walked a miscarriage or infant loss, you know the fear feels are so real.


Joanna I’m thankful that you helped me through my fears, my anger, my tears. If we’d had baby love we might not have had you. I wish I could be holding all 4 of you babies, and one day in heaven I will hold you sweet baby love!

The Kids Who Made Me Mom

What a strange day this is. I think it’s usually full of expectations that rarely are all fulfilled. A day that’s hard for women waiting to be moms, wanting all her kids in a picture, babies that weren’t big enough to hold. If you are missing your child, longing for one wanting this day to be looking different, I see you, I feel you and I understand all the feelings of this day.⠀⠀

If you are blessed enough to have all of your children in a picture you have no idea how blessed you are. I am holding 2 girls who have taught me so much about life and my 2 in my heart ❤️ who have taught me more about love.


You have all made me a mom and made me understand and appreciate all the Mom’s in my life. Happy Mothers’ Day to the many amazing women and moms who have shaped me and my girls. To the moms that are watching my babies in heaven for me. #whatshehastaughtme is how to love and that love never goes away!

Meaning of a Rainbow

If you’re a part of the infant and pregnancy loss community you probably already know the term Rainbow Baby. A rainbow is a baby born after the storms of grief from miscarriage, still birth or death in infancy. It’s supposed to give us hope of new coming.

It’s hard for me to explain how a rainbow pregnancy/baby are not all happiness and smiles. It’s hard to explain how an expectant mother can’t be absolutely excited every moment, especially after enduring so much loss.

There’s the fears that now there is a new baby to focus on that everyone will think we’re better or now we’re normal again because we’re having another baby. It’s the fear that we’re having another baby to replace the one who died. And the biggest fear that now there’s a new baby everyone will have forgotten the ones who’ve died.

The anger that comes when people say, “Now you’ll know how hard it is with 2 kids.” or how they ask the living child “Are you excited to be a big sister now?” I don’t know how to answer these unknowingly curel questions. I do know what it’s like to have 2 kids. Do I answer with, ‘Do you know how hard it is to parent when one of them lives in heaven?’ Or do I answer, ‘I know how hard it is to be up all night crying for a newborn who isn’t crying?’ It’s questions during pregnancy that completely have forgotten there was another one in between.

It’s complicated because we fear being happy for this baby, while at the same time wishing our other child was here. It’s a fear that this child will have unreasonable expectations to live their life and the life for their sibling(s) who couldn’t.

The pregnancy after loss is nothing like the one before. The innocence is gone that every pregnancy ends in a happy and healthy mom and baby. We had hoped our first rainbow pregnancy would be this child, and ended in more of the storms of grief for what couldn’t have been.

A rainbow doesn’t come without the rain and the storms of grief. Just because you see a rainbow, doesn’t mean the storm is over. Even in the eye of the storm there is quiet for a moment to recognize this pregnancy as its own, not tangled in the memories of the past. It’s not always a long moment, but when it comes the moment of peace and rainbows is so welcomed.

A Birthday Lost in Neverland

2 years in heaven is as if it was a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time. We will be remembering you and trying to celebrate you the best we can as the waves come and surround us today.

If you are on Instagram and want to remember his story search for #Instabirth0726 and see his birth and life story and help us remember his short time here.

Happy Birthday Logan boy. I can hardly believe it’s been 2 years since I was clinging to you in my arms wishing for a miracle that would selfishly keep you with me. I know we made the right decision to not let you suffer, but I still wish you hadn’t had to go before me on your journey to heaven. It’s just against every pattern our lives are supposed to follow.

I’ve heard your in a better place at least 1,000 times and I’ve rejoiced at least this many times for you. But I still just feel homesick longing for you. I just feel out of place on days like today. Torn between heaven and Earth and not being able to be seeing your face on days like this.

I have no idea what being a boy mom is like. Would your party have been all about dinosaurs or construction stuff like your daddy? Instead of opening new toys to celebrate you we open messages of remembering you. I have so been wondering what you would be looking like at 2. Would have lost your baby fat by now, how many words would you be able to say? What would you have thought of me if you’d been able to open your eyes? Would you have said this family is crazy and loud and been the quiet introvert or been screaming with the craziness of your big sister?

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t absolutely ache for you little boy. I wish I had some great silver lining to make anyone reading this feel better, but really losing someone this close to you and changing the life plans you thought you had isn’t a silver lining. It’s just hard.

You learn to still breathe and somehow figure out how to do things like pay bills and feed the 4 year old. You do learn to laugh again. But I will always have a moment of looking at the moments of happiness and seeing one face missing. Seeing one little blonde boy with chubby cheeks who should be grinning with me.

I’m going to celebrate today and the 15 hours you were here where you touched so many. You’ve taught us big grown ups way more than we thought we’d ever learn from a guy who’d just gotten here.

So though you’re not going to get the chance to grow up and are forever staying a lost boy like Peter Pan I’m sure you’re still going to wait for me. Logan know your mommy and daddy always have a place for you in our hearts. You are forever loved and forever missed. Especially on days like this. We love you to the moon, the sun and all the stars.

Hoping For A Rainbow

There is no safe time of pregnancy to announce where loss isn’t a possibility. I know that no matter the length or outcome of this pregnancy we won’t get through it alone. It takes a village.

A rainbow is a promise of sunshine after rain. Of calm after the storm, joy after sadness, peace after pain and love after loss.

Well, it’s come time for the post I didn’t know if I would one day get to write or if I would decide to share with the world. This time felt calmer and I’ve enjoyed my time with just keeping the circle small. I’m to the point where I’m ready to share this new part of our pregnancies journey. We are hopeful for a different ending, but loving this baby every moment we are able to spend together.

The real fear for me has been what reaction or stupid thing will I hear someone say and pretend I’m ok even when those words crushed me. It’s not that anyone is purposely trying to hurt me. I think everyone sees a baby as nothing but joy and innocence and it’s harder to explain when you’ve gone through an entire pregnancy only to not go home with your baby. The list below is the questions I dread and the basic answer is because it’s complicated!

1. “Is this your first?”

Ok, you don’t know how many miscarriages, abortions for medical reasons, stillborn, multiples who couldn’t thrive a woman has already had. This is way too complicated, especially considering miscarriage is 1 in 4 pregnancies! Unless you’re her doctor this makes no difference to you so please just stop!

2. “How many kids do you have already?”

I absolutely hate this question! Do I say 1, since she’s the only 1 living. Do I say 1 on Earth and 1 in heaven? This is actually my 4th pregnancy, but my 3rd only lived inside me for 10 weeks and we know so little. It’s a complicated question, so just don’t ask.

3. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

Ugh, I really just want a baby that cries after delivery who is breathing. Boy, girl or alien doesn’t matter to me. It gets more complicated after loss. A boy can remind me of what I’ve missed with Logan. But I also don’t want a boy that lives in the shadow of a dead child. A girl can be complicated because I’ll be thinking what she would be like with Logan, or wishing she would have been a boy like Logan. Like everything, it’s complicated!

4. “Are you excited?”

This is really a moment to moment question. I know it’s hard for most to think of a pregnancy as anything but exciting. There’s mixtures of excitement, hope, fears, anxiety, terrified. They all basically live together right now. So if I go from smiling one minute to crying uncontrollably it’s probably a combination of all of this plus you know pregnancy hormones!

5. “It’ll all workout. You deserve this after everything.”

Although I’d like to think I deserve that, I’ve felt that before and been completely broken. I’ve had to be reminded in the hardest of ways that we live in a broken world. I’ve lost well past the 12 week “danger zone” and then loss upon loss with our miscarriage. Sometimes there is no silver lining. Sometimes life just sucks.

7. “Are you doing anything different?”

So by doing different, I’m assuming you’re asking me, what will I do to try to not have my baby die? Well my 2 losses did not occur through any faults of my own or my care providers.

In case anyone doesn’t already know how this is not my fault: Logan moves in labor, his ultrasound 2 days prior was head down and no problems. Come delivery he went breech and landed on his cord when my water broke. The miscarriage I will never truly know, but most likely it was just not the right combo of cells to grow. Miscarriage happens 1 in 4 pregnancies. When we had our ultrasound during this we were told we were the 5th one that day. So if you haven’t suffered this loss, be thankful, but you most likely know several others who have.

Wave of lightning 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.

Today is a nationally recognized day of remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss of those lives gone far too soon. 

This month:

We remember the babies born sleeping. Those we’ve carried and never met. Those we’ve held but couldn’t take home. The ones who came home, but couldn’t stay. 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.

Beauty of October Sunrise 

Each month we see pink for the warriors who have fought the battle of breast cancer. We see it in stores and even the football fields. This month few outside our community know that this month has had another dedication since October 25, 1988 when President Regan proclaimed this month Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. A month of remembrance of loss of those tiniest babies we hold in our hearts.

The calendar hit another first of the month. Another day further from you in my arms, but closer to meeting you again. I knew coming up that October would be hard. Last year October felt like a stab in the gut. Logan should be here and we should have pictures of him at the pumpkin patch. We should be deciding what cute Halloween themed onesies he’d be wearing. 

I still feel it this year, when deciding on costumes what would he like. He’d only be a little over 1 so I’m sure I could convince him to be a pumpkin like his sister was our first Halloween in our new home. 

October is hard for another reason, it’s infant loss awareness month. I know before this I only knew October for breast cancer and pink shirts everywhere. 

Last year I found out about a project ‘Capture your grief’. It was starting by a photographer who experienced infant loss and she wanted to use her art as therapy. The idea is not to have great photos that belong on walls, but capturing where your memories are that day and she gives you prompts. Last year I was too raw to think through each day. Some of these assignments are just downright hard. This year I’m giving myself grace to remember, and grace to let go of some hard memories. 

This morning for the beginning of October the assignment was sunrise. I was at first mad at how cloudy it was that there wasn’t looking like much of a sunrise. Then slowly the pink filled in under the blue. I couldn’t help thinking that this is just what this month needs! A little more blue to go with all the pink in October! 

Not Where I Thought I’d Be

This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life. This most recent loss is not how I thought I would be introducing our third child to the internet world. We thank everyone who has supported us so much this week. I know many ask what they can do to help. Really I have no answer. In a state of shock I’m still trying to put my own oxygen mask on before helping others. Once I get some more oxygen I’ll let you know.

There’s so many days I wake up and think I can’t believe this is our life. This week has been a rough reminder that this has not been a terrible dream. It continues to be a nightmare from which we cannot awaken.

At the end of April we had found out that we were expecting our 3rd child. We were a complex emotions of happy, scared, nervous, excited. The beginning of this pregnancy was something we didn’t take as lightly as we had before Logan. We had decided right away we would be telling our close family and friends as soon as possible because frankly the ’12 weeks rule’ is the stupidest nonsensical rule.

Looking from the other side of loss I have no idea why people think it’s good to not make others uncomfortable should something happen. When really all it does is leave a couple isolated in grief because no one knew the joy there were expecting to have. It doesn’t matter how early it happens. There is a loss of plans, of hopes and dreams. There are birthdays, graduations, and sports games that will never happen. It’s not just the loss of the pregnancy, it’s the loss of what you hoped a new future with your child would be. 

This gets me to this past week. A week ago Sunday I noticed some bleeding. I prayed for it to be anything except for what we feared. It continued off and on and by Monday night we had decided for our own sanity we needed an ultrasound and went to the hospital. The doctor confirmed our fears that we would soon be losing this pregnancy too. Our child had stopped growing at 6 weeks and had no heartbeat. We were expecting it to have been closer to 10 1/2 weeks and be changed from the first embryo we had seen weeks ago. 

I’m thankful that I have so many loss friends who had told me things to prepare me for my miscarriage. I wanted to scream at the doctor when he told me it would be ‘just like a period!’

Firstly hearing from any man about what women really experience in a period, hormones and the truly wife variations of my own normal cycle is truly laughable. I don’t care how much schooling he’s had. Unless you’ve personally experienced it just shut your mouth! 

Secondly, in typical periods I don’t have mini contractions that have me bed ridden, and eventually pass a placenta and fetus! I imagine most people reading this would say that is not a ‘normal period’ where the utmost beginnings of life are passed! I don’t normally experience my milk coming in like a period, or nausea that kept me closely confined to my bed and bathroom floor for 2 days. 

I should’ve screamed at him to stop perpetuating this lie! A miscarriage Is Not A Period! It is labor and birth and raw and is a loss of so many things! 

I myself will no longer be personally endorsing the ’12 weeks rule.’ It is true those are the most volatile weeks in a woman’s pregnancy. The risk of miscarriage dramatically decreases after this time, but really there is no ‘safe’ time where we’re guaranteed that the baby will be safe. 1 in 5 pregnancies ends in a miscarriage before 20 weeks. 1 in 4 babies die between conception to 1 year. 1 in 160 babies die stillborn or within 48 hours. 

This is not an uncommon experience to be kept in the corner. Although I cannot marvel over the wrinkles, toes and beautiful face of this child I will forever carry my short memories and excitement of their impending arrival. I will mourn the due date which will never come. The unfulfilled dreams for them I cannot share o this earth with them are forever missed. 


Some times the constant reminder you may have a trigger day coming is worse than the actual day. Some days it’s all around when you least expect it!

I was blessed enough to be born on Mother’s Day and was told for so long that I was the best gift for that day. I made her a “Mom.” It was a day that for so many years I’ve had shared with her. So many family celebrations of having to share my day with my grandmothers, aunts and mom’s. I enjoyed it even more when my first mother’s day as a mother myself happened to fall also on my birthday. It was a wonderful mix of emotions and outpouring of love for my daughter and celebration of this new stage of my own life.

This year these days won’t be celebrated quite the same. There will be a new worry of emotion. I’m working to remind myself that I am not only the noun of mother, someone who has born or adopted a child. I am looking at it as also a verb: something or someone as the recipient for my action. I give love, I give them energy, I give them my thoughts.

I can think of so many inspirational women throughout my life who have helped show me that what mothering truly is. Those Who have shown me grace and are my soul sisters! As I am getting bombarded with email ads for massages endless scented lotions and massages which I will never remember to book, I’ve been trying to think about what would actually make me the most happy in my celebration week of my life and Mother’s Day.

The realization of this year is that time is the only thing of true value that you cannot measure. It is the gift that gives me back the most. I know memories can fade but they  the best gifts I have received from others in these past 9 months. If you are wanting to know how you can help me this Mother’s Day this is my request:

-Show me where you took Logan’s memory today. Show me where you saw him, either in the stars, the wind, the leaves or maybe a rainbow.

-Light a candle for his memory 

-Acknowledge that this will be a difficult day and that your just thinking about me and Logan

-If you can visit with him. I love seeing when he’s had his friends stop by with a pebble or flower.

I think this day I will be surrounding myself with other mama’s whose arms are aching. I’m praying for peace and comfort during this period. I pray our children won’t be forgotten. I pray for understanding relationships and being surrounded by love.

The Elephant Never Forgets

There’s maybe more meaning to the saying ‘an elephant never forgets’ than you thought you knew. These animals are gentle giants walking this Earth who have so much teach us.

Did you ever think that there’s a reason to the saying ‘an elephant never forgets’? Elephants are able to remember all of the grazing land and watering holes from across hundreds of miles which it feeds from. They will remember threats such as lions or poachers. Their memory is part of their survival. 

Elephants are one of the most complex animals who are capable of emotions as humans such as joy, love, sadness, grief, compassion and distress. When a mother loses a calf the other mothers and aunts surround her in a circle as she cries. The mother feels this loss and is visible through her depressed mood and sunken eyes. The herd will cover their deceased with branches as an act of dignity. When a herd encounters an elephant skeleton they will contemplate the bones and show respect for the deceased. Their gift of compassion and memory is truly unique and something to learn from.

The elephant is considered by many cultures to be symbolic of wisdom, loyalty, strength, fidelity and longevity. No other animal on land matches the strength of an elephant. In many Asian cultures it’s considered good luck to place an elephant with its trunk up near a front entrance to encourage this strength in the home.

 The more I have learned about these beautiful creatures the more I am amazed at how Gods creatures continue to amaze me. The elephant has become part of our family symbol that we will never forget and we are a herd of remembrance. We may always have an elephant in the room that may not be seen, but his presence is always felt.

Why I Write 

If we haven’t already met, hi I’m Sara! I’m writing this blog for my son Logan. His time in this world was a brief 14 1/2 hours, but so much love was shared during his short time here. I write to families who have experienced grief, and to those who support them on their journeys.

I write about what has brought me joy and what I wish others would understand about the complexities in my mind as I navigate new normal. Ideally, I’m writing in this public manner because I was tired of whining in my journal about wishing more people would understand my thoughts after. I want people to not walk on egg shells around me. I want people to know what has helped and what still hurts. Some of my writings are for me to get the day off my chest. While others come after I think now I have the perfect thing I wish I would’ve said at the time. There are many times where it’s easier to write it down and send it into cyberspace than to try to think of the right words in the moment.

I hope that you feel free to share any of my writings if they are helpful to you. I want to thank each of you for taking the time to read any of my posts and getting to know me and my family.


I wonder if the mailman thinks my baby is still alive…


With both my pregnancies I signed up for the baby tracking apps. The ones which tell you your baby is now the size of a blueberry, raspberry, cauliflower and whichever random closeish sized fruit or vegetable is comparable. I loved getting the weekly updates and thinking how amazing it was that life was changing so dramatically within me.

I would meticulously log my daily vitamin intake, water intake, minutes spent walking. I was obsessed with doing the best I possibly could for myself and the life inside of me. In this obsessive tracking, I had forgotten how much of my pregnancy data was not just me and my care providers. It was being logged into some crazy database where every company seems to know that I was expecting and that I should have a little nugget arriving from every google search and baby item purchased in anticipation of birth.

The cruelty is that the same day Logan was born I deleted the pregnancy tracking app after Logan’s because there was no magic button to say “STOP REMINDING ME ABOUT MY GROWING BABY!” I so wish I could hit erase and somehow be magically taken off every list for new baby items as quickly as I was put on their lists.

A few weeks after Logan’s arrival we received a box with a congratulatory card from a formula company with a bunch of samples and coupons for diapers. The samples and coupon cards still haven’t stopped 8 months later.

Probably the most shocking was the random customer survey from the hospital who called wanting to know:

‘What could’ve made our stay more enjoyable?’

Really that was a pretty ironic question. Really the hospital could’ve had the crappiest towels, food, and only cold running water and I wouldn’t have cared if it meant Logan was coming home. What would’ve made it more enjoyable is having a baby who opened his eyes and cried after he was born. What would’ve made it more enjoyable is not seeing the panic in my husband’s eyes when I woke from the anesthesia and hearing how sick my baby was.

The random baby survey conversations become very short as I cut them off and say. “My baby died” and hang up the phone before waiting for the awkward pause and the fumbling words from the poor customer service agent who didn’t know. (well, maybe all except the hospital one, probably should’ve had those records!)

We’re only on the brink of my children’s generation which has every moment of their lives documented for the world. It’s no longer just the close family and friends who get notified when I post that my daughter learned how to sing a new song, or that she went on an airplane ride. It is becoming more abundant that our likes and family composition is being used by marketers in ways I had no idea because I was so used to being surrounded by it that it didn’t bother me. After having to try to change all my ad preferences away from babies I realized no part of the internet was safe. Heck I couldn’t even watch shows on HULU without seeing Pampers ads.

Will I be getting coupons for pull-ups and school supplies? Reminders of memories that we would never get to have.

I wish for a magical erase button from all the world that can’t seem to get the memo our son died. I no longer need your expected arrival information. I don’t need tips about sleeping through the night with a newborn. Although, if you have tips on how to sleep through the night when you’re in grief thinking about the baby who should be keeping you up I’ll take it.

Your Irreplaceable

Time will not change that. Time does not heal all wounds, it allows for a different perspective.

No matter what stage in life our children are not replaceable. No matter how many others I hold in my arms they will not be the one I lost.

I’ve talked to other loss mama’s about how we could all write books of the stupid ‘helpful” things we’ve heard since our loss. One of the top is: “Your young you can always have more.”

It truly aches hearing that.

It assumes that children are interchangeable.

This is usually not meant to be said in a hurtful manner. It’s thought to be look on the bright side. But really it is just minimizing the loss.

Would you say to your grandparent who just lost their partner of 50 years “Don’t worry you can always get married again?”

NO! That would sound completely insincere. You know that although they could get remarried it doesn’t mean that time is forgotten with their loss.

Although our time was shorter than we had wanted with Logan. Having a living child or any possible future children do not replace his place in our family.

The moment that those 2 pink lines show up your life is changed. You make plans before the child is fully formed. You alter your life choices and prepare space in your heart and home for the future you hope for.

Time will not change that. Time does not heal all wounds, it allows for a different perspective.

No matter what stage in life our children are not replaceable. No matter how many others I hold in my arms they will not be the one I lost.

I have heard other loss moms judging me by reminding me to be thankful for my living children. Which I am. But that does not mean I do not mourn the one who is not here.

I’m asking for a stop in the mommy wars.

We are all broken. You may have good intentions. I do not think anyone who has said this has said it purposefully trying to be hurtful. I just ask you to remember: children are irreplaceable.

No matter how long their stay was on this earth, there will never be another exactly like them.

A long overdue thank you

I had every intention of writing this thank you months ago, but going back to the hospital in my mind is a place I can’t go often. It’s something I carefully have trained my mind to avoid to stay functional. In order to properly say this I needed to:

I know that you did not go into your calling for birth to have nights like when Logan so forcefully entered on July 26th. That you thought Labor and Delivery was caring for babies who were crying and healthy.

I remember hearing people telling my mom you are so lucky to get to be around babies at work. I can remember her cautious  answer was, ‘most of the time.’

I read a OB who had been quoted that the Labor and Delivery ward is 95% of the time the happiest place in the hospital, but the 5% that remains is the saddes part of the hospital.

I cannot express my appreciation for your compassion and love that you shared with Logan and us. Compassion is not some checklist they taught you in medical school and it truly made us have the best hours with Logan.

To the ER nurse who rushed me in and stood with my husband through uncertain pain. The neonatologist with tears in her eyes. The midwives who told me ‘it’s not your fault.’ The L&D nurses who knew I wouldn’t want to eat and brought me endless cups of ice water and jello. The pernatologist who drove to another hospital looking for more keepsake items to remember Logan. For timing vital checks so we could sleep because we were so numb.

I know days like his are not what you probably thought of when you went into your professions. I’m sure people unknowingly say your job must be so happy. I know you probably give an answer similar to my mom’s that most of the time it is.

Please try not to become hardened by days like his. I know there is probably another family who will go through loss and need your same compassion.

Please remember to close that hospital door because to a loss mom the sound of a newborn crying and happy birthday are needles into an already shattered heart. Remember that her walking out of that hospital without her baby was the last thing she wanted to have happen.

The walk to her car without her baby while passing other rooms with crying babies or the nursery will probably be crushing her and an extra hug may not hurt right then.

I know you probably went home and hugged those you love. I’m so grateful for your love. You gave us both space and comfort. If there can ever be a time for me to pay it forward I will do my best to live up to the status you have set.

Thank you for your support. Thank you for being able to serve in the the saddest part of the hospital when the world only thinks of the 95% of happy days. You deserve recognition for your hardest days on the job.

With gratitude,

Sara (Logan’s mommy 07/26/2016)



Would You Like To Tell Me About Your Family

Instead of asking ‘How many kids do you have?’ Consider what will you say if they don’t have any, or what if they came here to not talk about kids. Ask them instead ‘would you like to tell me about your family?’

I used to get so much enjoyment from a day of pampering. A day for me to Just relax and enjoy. Most recently I have found myself having an almost breakdown before having to psyche myself up before entering the salon.

The reason is simple. I know I am putting myself in a situation where I will be asked THE QUESTION.

‘So do you have kids?’

I can’t explain with enough accuracy the gut wrench that is this question. Do I say 1 on Earth and not mention my 1 in heaven?

Do I rock their world and say a 1 day old who died and a 3 year old who loves to talk about him, even at sometimes uncomfortable times.

My most recent time I said a 3 year old and baby hoping to leave it at that. Of course it was eventually asked about him and had to tell about his passing. Which mostly leaves the unassuming person totally shocked and feeling guilty.

For the record I never feel guilty for talking about Logan. He is a part of our family who we talk about every day. What makes me mad is how strangers will never ask me what his name was and how the conversation basically ends there.

Through my journey into motherhood I have met so many other types of mothers who all have their own thoughts on this question.

The mom who has no living child, but fought so hard to try to become one through every attempt surgery and miscarriage. The one who went through everything for her baby girl to have an unfair ruling and custody lost. The mom’s who aren’t sure if they should just say look at the alive child and feel guilt ridden for neglecting the loss.

I beg for all of us with complicated answers to this awful question, please ask us:

‘Would you like to tell me about your family?’

Please allow us to tell you on our terms.

Neverland-That Place Between Awake and Asleep

It was a place between asleep and awake that reminds me of Peter Pan. A place where he’s waiting and will be with me.

Since this I can go to sleep with the hope that someone else will visit me and tell me about whose caring for Logan and hear that he’s ok.

This post has been on my mind to write for a while. This actually happened last October and I had felt hesitant about sharing it publicly because it was so moving for me. After sharing it with a friend pushed me to try to share this because there’s some other adult children who were lost and their parents might like to hear about it too.

To also preface this story after we lost Logan I was having an incredibly hard time going to sleep and would wake up about 2-3 times a night and be unable to fall back asleep and watched hours of Netflix’s trying to take my mind off why I couldn’t sleep. In October we went on a visit to see my mom and step-dad in Arkansas. I’m sure Logan saw his Mama suffering and thought he needed to try to do something. So here goes my Neverland dream:

The dream started with me and Kevin in a really long weaving line. I think we were waiting in line to go into some building. The line made a switchback and suddenly I was standing in line next to Justin. (Justin was a friend of a friend I had known back in college. Justin was one of the most genuine and kind people I have had the pleasure of knowing. In February 2012 he and a friend were on a trip to Houston. They were driving back to their hotel and a drunk driver going the wrong way on the interstate hit their car head on. Justin and his friend Shelia were killed in the accident.)

I saw Justin and he was standing next to Shelia, whom I had never met in my life on Earth. I gave Justin a big hug. In my dream I knew it was weird that he was there because he had passed. I gave him a hug and wanted to talk to him and he was gone. Then Shelia gave me a hug. While embraced with her she picked up my necklace with Logan’s picture on it. She asked me what this was for. I told her this was Logan, but he’s passed away. She said ‘I know and he wants you to know that he’s ok. He’s just not strong enough to come back yet.’ 

Then suddenly she drifted away and I was embraced in a hug with Allie and Kevin. I woke up in a slow floating feeling. I can remember fighting to not wake up that I wanted to go back to the dream and ask Shelia so many more questions.

It was a place between asleep and awake that reminds me of Peter Pan. A place where he’s waiting and will be with me. 

I’m sure that Justin was there so that I would recognize Shelia. I know his pain is over. I know that there are so many more people caring for Logan than I can even think of. I know even though I want to ask for babysitting references for him, he’s got the best references of all.

Since this time sleep has become so much easier for me. I can go to sleep with hopes of another Logan dream. With the hope that someone else will visit and tell me about what he’s doing and that he still thinks of those who love him on Earth.

When The Waves Hit

Until this wave I had forgotten how grief can physically hurt! How your arms long for something that you can no longer hold! Grief can tear you up until you are raw!

#infantloss #lifeafterloss #oneinfour #writingisthereapy

Most of the time I feel pretty together. There’s many times now where I can put the memories aside and focus on the present. A feeling of being both present and also my mind on Logan has become my new way of thought. I feel I’ve prepared myself for the dark days when I know they’re coming. For the holiday celebrations and making time for myself to have my time alone. I feel like overall I’m getting better at managing my life with grief as a partner.

Every so often there’s a wave that will come out and even though I think I’m ready for the grief it seems to almost swallow me whole.

The other day at church I felt this wave as I watched a family walk up with their baby to be baptized. It wasn’t the ceremony that got me, it was actually seeing the baptism gown. I was hit with a wave so hard I felt that I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from myself. The sudden memory of Logan in the same gown that myself and my daughter had worn. The memories of him cuddled in his blanket in his casket instead of a bassinet.

Until this wave I had forgotten how grief can physically hurt! How your arms long for something that you can no longer hold! Grief can tear you up until you are raw!

There’s times can come crashing down reminding you of what you don’t have. How overwhelming the sense of anxiety is when you’re in the thick of it.

I know times like this are now a regular part of my life.

That in between the waves, there is life. That some days I’ll see it coming and others where the day will wash over you. I may have some more learning to do from these waves.

I know that without my support I would allow myself to get swallowed. To be surrounded by those who understand why some moments I have to walk away and not have to explain has allowed me to allow myself to surrender to some of the waves that hit.

This week was a reminder to me that sometimes I still don’t know as much as I think I do.

In order to heal you’ve got to feel.

%d bloggers like this: