We have been blessed to be able to make connections with other friends and local families that have experienced losses as well. The network and support of their experiences connects us in a family bond that is hard to describe.
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I was only prepared to expect the future with my babies, not expecting the reality of losing them both.
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I’m here now without her, but I still carry her with me. All of the plans we made are unfolding, and instead of her being in my arms, she’s brought along in my mind.
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And then there's grief itself which feels a lot like standing with your back to the ocean. You’re never sure when a wave will hit or how big it will be.
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Parenting your dead child is like painting by numbers but there are no numbers to paint by… All the rules and directions have been lost. How does one know what color comes next?
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There is a light flickering somewhere inside of every bereaved mother, even on the darkest days, that is fueled by faint pieces of who we are. That light may be dim, but it can shine brightly again.
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