Make sure you all hug your fur-babies extra tight tonight.
I was so, so sad, but felt like I had no right to be. I had read so many stories about miscarriages in the second trimester, my grief didn't feel valid in comparison.
gun violence
With the Sheriff’s officer looking over my shoulder, I phoned, and heard someone say “coroner’s office” on the other end. I could barely speak. A voice informed me that my son was dead, that he had been shot four times by his school roommate during an argument about dishes.
The rule is when the teenybopper grocery clerk or the yoga pants and Starbucks-sipping moms at playgroup ask how you are, they do not want you to say anything but “Fine” “Great” or “I’m good.”
Most days I laid in bed and suffered, convinced that either I had some kind of cancer eating me from the inside out that no doctor could find, or that they were right and there was nothing wrong with me and the pain was an invention of my twisted mind.
After struggling to get pregnant, I had to have a misplaced pregnancy surgically removed. When looking for comfort, I found reasons to be angry, and reasons to be persistent.
She is absent in my waking life, and only appears at night while I sleep. She appears while I am sitting in my old family home, everything as it was when we were children apart from we are adults now.
People ask me how I’m doing, and when I say, “I’m fine,” they nod, assuming I’m holding something back for their benefit. But I’m not. I am fine. I am good. I am all right.

Feb 5, 2013 at 5:00pm | 132 comments

I would do anything to hear her heartbeat again. Why didn't I record it? I smell her little hat and cry.
Terminal illness requires a level of seriousness that I’m not naturally capable of.

Oct 9, 2012 at 11:30am | 22 comments

When it’s been emotionally or financially taxing, I’ve still felt nothing but extraordinarily fortunate to share my home with such wonderful friends.
Like so many other things that are quickly becoming outdated, obituaries are a useful form of communication that is lacking a user base.
Mainly because I've been there and done that -- and it didn't end well.
My first miscarriage would rip the rug out from under me, alienating me from my own body, and startling me with a grief I never imagined possible The second robbed me of my faith in God’s hand on the universe.
brain tumor
Sometimes I am sure of who you would be if you had lived. Sometimes I am not.