He Will Never Let Me Forget

I stand in a room untouched for 4 years. As I run my hand on the bed I feel the cold cotton of the blanket, knowing that it will never be warme...

Disgustingly Normal

I don’t think we will ever get used to or get over the feeling of our stomachs sinking every time Brooklyn goes under anesthesia. I have lost...

I Trust Anyway

I lay here next to my 9-year-old son in his hospital bed. I stay close. When the next seizure starts, I’ll be able to reach the round red ale...

I Hope I Always Have Tears

No matter how much we plan or how well we deal with grief it finds ways to sneak in. It found me recently when I shared a little about Quinn, m...

Drawing the Line

Brooklyn was 2½ when we went to get her hair cut for the first time.  Her long, blonde, curly hair was reduced to an adorable pixie cut.  Sh...

An Out

The only “birthday” we celebrated with my daughter, Quinn, was in our arms on the day of her actual birth. She passed away two days short o...

Three Years and Five Words

My toddler, Finn, knows five words: mama, dada, raccoon, Daisy (my parent’s dog) — and Zach. Four of these words he picked up on his own, t...

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