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Five

5 years. 1,825 days.

I still have not gotten used to the idea that you are not here with us.

So much about our family has changed – you have two younger brothers, one extremely spoiled dog. The most amazing and loving older brother who tells me he sees you in the things he sees around the house or outside. He says I can’t see you, but you come to see him.

Every other person I have loved and lost in my life is frozen in time. My Dad is 65 years old in my mind not one minute older.

Not you.

Madison, you are 5 glorious years old. Every day that goes by you age and grow. I see you running with sticky, sweaty, strawberry curls. Mouth wide open as you laugh so hard. Your eyes are closed – face looking up at the beautiful fall sky. You are feisty and sweet with just enough sass to keep you safe until your brothers show up to settle things down. Your heart is open and kind.

How my heart aches for you.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you.

I want you to know you are such an important part of our family and this world. Your brothers know you, they ask about you, they say your name. You have brought the most amazing and strong women in to my life. You have taught me so much.

I can’t believe you are 5 years old.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl,

Bereaved Mother’s Day

Trigger warning – this post discusses stillbirth, miscarriage and the surrounding experience and emotions. Please consider your current emotional needs when deciding whether to read. Bereaved Mother’s Day is observed the first Sunday each May and is a day to honor those brave women who have experienced the loss of a child as well as

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Dear Mrs. I

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He is a Grieving Father

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Pictures of You

Last weekend, we had family pictures taken, and a bunch of what will likely be really adorable photos of your brother Barrett. It was the first time we have had family pictures taken since saying goodbye to you. I knew in the weeks leading up to our appointment it was going to be tough. Planning what

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I Am Not Ashamed

{originally posted 6/21/2016} 6 1/2 weeks ago on a Friday, I finally mustered up the courage to admit to my husband how bad it had gotten on the inside. How hard it had become to leave my house, how anxious I would feel at the thought of having to be around people. I told him

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Stillbirth. The word is a part of my story now, but there was a time when it wasn’t. It felt clinical. It felt “old”. It sounded like something that happened in days gone by before there was good prenatal care. When people were giving birth without the aid of professionals or in unsterile conditions. It didn’t

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Dress For The Job You Want

When I started my career way back in the late 90s, I had a well meaning boss tell me I needed to dress for the job I wanted. My 22 year old self thought he was living in the stone age. I realized just a few years later what sage advice that was. I learned

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He Will Always Be My Rainbow

The first time I heard a child born after a loss referred to as a “rainbow baby,” I completely rejected the whole idea of it. I had never heard the term before Madison, but I frankly hated it. Maybe it was the stage of grief I was experiencing, maybe it was because I have never

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