Healing Hearts: Reflections of love, loss, and light

Today, on National Rainbow Baby Day, I find myself reflecting on the complex and emotional journey that has brought me to this moment. This day holds a deep significance for me, as it’s a time to honor both the children I’ve lost and the ones who came after, bringing light into my life. It’s a journey marked by profound grief and unexpected joy, and it’s one that I carry with me every single day. There was a time when my world was enveloped in darkness, a time when the pain of loss seemed too great to bear. Losing a child is a grief that defies description. It’s the kind of pain that lingers in the background, always present, always heavy. I remember the emptiness that followed, how each day felt like an endless struggle to simply keep going. The weight of that loss was overwhelming, and I often wondered if I would ever find joy again. Zoe Every day was a reminder of what could have been. The moments that should have been filled with laughter were instead filled with silence. The dream...

I can hardly believe it—Grayson is 11 today. How did we get here so fast? It feels like just yesterday we were welcoming him into our lives, our first boy, full of excitement and a little bit of uncertainty about what this new chapter woul d bring. Raising Grayson has been an adventure, to say the least. From the moment he came into the world, he’s kept us on our toes. Whether it’s his endless questions, his quirky sense of humor, or his knack for finding new ways to push our buttons, Grayson has always had a way of making life interesting. But beneath all that energy and those occasional challenges is a boy with a heart of gold. Grayson has this incredible ability to see the best in people and a kindness that goes beyond his years. He’s the kid who will notice when someone’s feeling down and go out of his way to cheer them up. It’s these moments that remind me how lucky we are to have him in our lives. Of course, it’s not always easy. There are days when he tests our patience, days wh...

Six years ago today, my dad died. The memory of that day is still so vivid. It started with a phone call bearing news that he wasn’t doing well. I remember the worry gnawing at me, but there was still hope. Then came the final call. And there I was, standing in my kitchen, doing the dishes, feeling like the ground had shifted beneath me. Suddenly, I was in a world without my dad. The numbness was overwhelming. I went through the motions that night, but it’s all a blur. Grief does that—it fogs your mind, leaving you disoriented and lost. This date, every year, brings a rush of emotions, both old and new. I always think I'll be more prepared, that somehow the passage of time will soften the blow. But grief doesn’t work on a schedule. Today, I feel a weight on my chest, a heaviness that’s hard to shake. The pain is sharp, and the uncertainty is unsettling. Part of me wants to shove it all aside, to ignore it and carry on. But I’ve learned that ignoring grief doesn’t make it go away. I...

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” —Winnie the Pooh Today marks 16 years since I brought my sweet Alivia into this world. Time has flown by, yet it feels like just yesterday when I held her tiny, delicate fingers in mine. The pain of losing a child never truly goes away; it's an ache that nestles deep within your heart, a void that can never be filled. But on this bittersweet day, I want to honor and cherish the beautiful memories of my sweet girl, for she made me a mother—a gift I'll forever hold dear. This morning, I woke up with a heavy heart. Emotions are overwhelming, and the memories flood my mind. I can't help but wonder who she would be now—what dreams she would chase, what passions would ignite her soul, and what kind of woman she'd have blossomed into. What kind of big sister would she be? The "what-ifs" and "could-have-beens" are a constant companion in this journey of loss. This year's milestone in my...

In six days, my sweet girl will be turning sweet 16. I should be busy planning the final details of her birthday party, making sure everything is perfect for her big day. Instead, I'm sitting here, journaling and putting the finishing touches on a poem I've been working on for the last few weeks. I haven’t written poetry like this since Alivia passed away. Back then, it was a crucial part of my therapy, a way to process the overwhelming emotions. Recently, I've found myself turning back to it, finding peace and healing in the words. As her birthday approaches, I'm filled with a mix of emotions. Time has softened the sharp edges of my grief, but the sorrow and her absence are constants. Some days, I can mask the pain and get through the day with a smile. Other days, I’m a complete mess, overwhelmed by the weight of my loss. No matter what, I miss my sweet girl every single day. Writing this poem has been a way for me to connect with those feelings and honor Alivia's ...

   Fourteen years ago, you entered this world and transformed every part of my existence . Your arrival filled my heart with joy and wonder. Hearing your first cry was a miraculous moment I'll never forget; an instant bond was created between mother and daughter.  You’ve blossomed into such an extraordinary young lady. Your compassion, kindness, and bravery are evident in everything you do. Your outer beauty is matched only by the brilliance of your spirit. Watching your self-confidence grow this past year has been magical. Your new "swagger" lights up my world and fills my heart with pride. You’re finding your passions, dreaming about the future, and becoming an intelligent, funny, and empathetic young woman. Your wit and sense of humor brighten my days, and when you borrow my clothes, it’s both flattering and a reminder of how fast you’re growing up. I still see glimpses of the little girl you once were, especially when something excites you, and I cherish those moment...