An unexpected visit

Contains triggers/MENTS

This last week has been hectic. We were supposed to stay in a cabin in Gatlinburg for vacation coming up. That’s where we said our final Goodgye to the girls years ago (if anyone still follows this blog that remembers).  So, it was heartbreaking to see the news this past week. Not only for what TN is going through, but nknowing some key memory landmarks are destroyed. The girls’ 4th birthday would be the 9th, and things just started to collapse around me. 

Last night my husband wanted to cheer me up so he took pictures of our rainbow being a goofball by our Christmas tree and texted them to me. I posted the picture to Facebook and was looking at it….. 

Then, I started to shake uncontrollably and sob

My husband and rainbow ran to me. I could get the words out, I could just point. 

My husband’s face turned white and he said, “Is that…?”

I started nodding my head like an idiot. 

“Yes! Yes, it is! It’s them!”

You see, plain as day in the picture on the wall behind our rainbow were two little faces side by side. One a little easier to see than the other, but both there. 

Willow & Hazel showed up for the first time. They knew I needed them, and they wanted me to know that no matter where we are, they are there. The place doesn’t matter. 

A true Christmas Miracle. 

Willow’s ultrasound picture from the last few days pregnant with them. It’s one of those images that always sticks with me about my girls. 

Guest Blogging

Recently I was given the opportunity to submit some of my previous posts from this blog to  show as guest blogging for The Story of – Books.

The range of personalized child loss books are a valuable resource for all who have experienced the tragic loss of a child, these books are the perfect way to share your own child’s story with your family and friends. A gentle story of hope, it will remind you that we can experience the love and joy of a loved one, even when they are no longer with us here on earth.

I submitted my work and was chosen for the November Newsletter! You can read it on their blog at

I encourage all my fellow loss families to check out the books and to sign up for their newsletter at The Story of – Books. It was started by another fellow loss mom, and as we all know, we are one heck of a support community. ❤

Perfectly imperfect


My family is so incredibly perfectly imperfect. I didn’t envision saying this 4 years ago, but I’m happy where I am with my little family. There I said it. My heart is heavy for saying it, but it’s true. It’s hard to swallow that I could actually mean it, but I do. 

Part of me struggles, clawing its way into my mind screaming, “How the hell could you say that? How can you be ‘happy’ with where your family is? Damnit. Don’t year realize two of your children should be in that little family?!?”

That part of me has me feeling incredibly guilty. Has me feeling guilty that I love having my rainbow here. Not having living sibling for him, allowing me to spend every second focused on just him, not dividing my attention. That’s why we are perfectly imperfect. 

We are perfect for the circustances we were dealt. An imperfect situation in which we’ve built a family. 

I would give anything to have my daughters here too, but since I know that isn’t a possibility, I am absolutely content in our life. 

My son is not second choice. He isn’t a runner up to my daughters. He isn’t a replacement child. He is perfect. 

And…. For once I can honestly say, while pushing that little voice down, I’m happy with where we are and mean it. 

Hang in there. Your day will come too. 

The Process

May have Triggers/MENTS

Gentle reminder: Fostering isn’t for everyone. Adoption isn’t for everyone. Infertility treatments aren’t for everyone. Children aren’t for everyone. 
Each process is very personal and not entered lightly. Some do a combination of the choices, or choose to not have children. Some have no choice. 
The matter is, that this is their choice. Please don’t judge anyone or give advice on how they should proceed unless you are asked for it. 
For us, IVF was cheaper than adoption. We weren’t mentally prepared for Fostering. We wanted to keep the baby no matter what. We’ve been told by many the main goal of fostering is reunification with the biological family. If that isn’t possible, then adoption becomes an option. Reunification with the biological family wasn’t our goal at the time, so fostering wasn’t for us at that point. 
Adoption is out of our means entirely. Foster to Adopt is still in our sights and we have discussed it greatly for the future. But that is OUR decision. 
I am making this public so there is no confusion. Not everyone is comfortable with making their personal life public. I’ve witnessed some very nasty things said about infertility treatments when ‘there are so many that need homes.’ Unless you have been there, you don’t understand the process. It’s not like going to the grocery store and picking out a ripe melon. Google research doesn’t count either. 
However you decide to live your life, is the right way for you. Period. Not everyone else. 
Family is family no matter how it happens. Whether it is through fostering, adoption, foster to adopt, infertility treatments, a one night stand, an ‘accident’, giving the gift of a child to another, just you and your partner, only children in heaven, or just you and your pets. Family is defined by your heart. 


This is the first year we didn’t go to their graves for Easter, and I pretty much feel like shit about it still. It feels like we are missing more and more Holidays at the graves. I know they aren’t there, just their vessels, but still….. I feel connected to them there… at their final resting place.

I feel like more and more often, ‘life’ is getting in the way of being there with them. That sucks. They don’t have a ‘life’ to get in the way. They don’t get to busy or forget. They are dead. Dead.

It still feels funny to say it. Dead. My daughters are dead. It’s been over 3 years and it still feels awkward to say. My first 2 children are dead. Not alive. Buried at Springvale. Dead.

I don’t think it will ever feel ‘right’ to say it, don’t get me wrong. I just thought by now maybe it wouldn’t feel so foreign to say.

Grief is so… weird. Some days I can talk up a storm about them. Other days I feel like my heart is made of glass and every time I think about them, every time the blood pumps through my veins, with the very next beat of my heart without them, it will shatter into a million tiny reflective pieces. All reflecting the same glistening scenes….their deaths. Memories projected on to each shiny, sharp, surface. When I try to pick the pieces up, they slice my hands and my blood muddies up to picture.

Other days, I’m fine. Not the “I’m Fine,” that we lie and tell those around us who wouldn’t understand, but the real one. The one where I have found a way to continue to live and be happy.

I know, as time goes on here without them, I will to. I won’t get over it, or more on. Time just goes on. Whether we want it to or not….

“Suffering Olympics”

I’ve been reading When Empty Arms Become A Heavy Burden By Sandra Glahn & William Cutrer, MD. It was a gift from a very special friend. At first I can honestly say I didn’t want to read the book. I KNEW I was infertile, and I KNEW I lost my children. How could this book help me? But it has, it tremendous ways. There are even several chapters that don’t actually fit my circumstance, but they too have helped me in other aspects of my life. I’ve had questions that I never had the courage or resources to ask, that were answered for me. But enough about that, on to my point…

There is a chapter in the book about the “Suffering Olympics” that infertility couples seems to go through. Where everyone tries to make you feel better by “one up-ing” you with their experience(s). I have been taking a lot of the book for its infertility help, but also applying it to the loss of Willow & Hazel. Luckily, I have only had one instance of “One upping” with the loss of my girls. An instance of, ‘I’m sorry what happened to your girls, but this happened to me. See it could have been worse. I was devastated by what happened to me. You were lucky with how you lost your girls.’ Those were not exact words, but it was approached that way.

I was so mad and angry at this person. No part of what happened to James and I was lucky. We both lost our children. Don’t you see that, this is not a competition to see who has suffered more. We have both suffered enough. Neither instance should have EVER happened. I hope you can see that (well theoretically I say this, they do not read my blog).

I’m sorry you feel you must make this a competition. There is no ‘lucky’ or ‘better way’ for a child to die. I hope you find your peace soon.

Hell Week

**Contains Triggers**

This week has been hell for the last 3 years, but this year it decided to raise the bar a couple of notches
The 9th marked 3 years since my little girls were born.

The 10th marked 3 years since Willow died

Now, on the 10th we also had to put our dog, Cortana, down. We got Cortana as a rescue during my cycle for the girls as a gift for them.

Just minutes ago, on the 14th we had to put Valentine, our cat, down. We’ve had her for nearly 9 years.

On the 17th it will mark 3 years since Hazel died.

I really just don’t feel like I can take much more. I’m sitting here crying in bed while my husband was at the emergency vet. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I can’t stop crying while staying up with Dex who is really congested with a bad cold. I’m feeling at a horrible low point.
While both pets were ours, and I’ve cried and cried over them, I feel horrible and don’t know what to do for my husband.
Valentine was my husband’s first cat when we were dating. She wasn’t our first cat together, but Valentine was ‘his’ cat and Cortana was ‘his’ dog. I don’t know how to comfort him while I’m grieving too.
My heart can’t take much more this week, this year, or this lifetime…..
Struggling with infertility and childloss, your pets become your fur-babies. They comfort you in ways humans cannot. They are there without the need to say words that unknowingly hurt, and show nothing but companionship and love.

Pet leave silent footprints on our hearts…