Who I am

I’m Sara, and as long as I could remember I have thought about the excitement of becoming a mama.

Taking this journey has made my heart swell. July 26, 2016 this little guy was born and forever changed everything. I am more grateful than anything that I get to share his 14.5 hours of life story.

My Why

Suffering the loss of a full-term baby and a miscarriage shortly after I wanted help. I wanted community, emotional help, and I just wanted to feel healthier. My hearts goal is to equip other mama’s with education, empowerment and love.

Get in Touch

I’d love to connect with you and hear your story. And in case no one told you today

“You are doing amazing! You are built for great things. And you look fabulous!”


Young Wild and 3

It’s hard to see you as 3 and doing so much yourself. Last night I held your bear and it felt so light compared to how big your baby sister has grown. Logan you continue to make me so proud to be your mama.

It’s hard to see you as 3 and doing so much yourself. Last night I held your bear and it felt so light compared to how big your baby sister has grown. Logan you continue to make me so proud to be your mama.

How I wish I could give you a hug and tell you about all the people who love you so. It’s a day I thought I was prepared for and was still moved by the complex feelings it brings.

I look for signs from you everywhere, and long to be closer to you. You should be here with us at a park or pool or somewhere happy today. I will spend the rest of my life looking for moments filled with Logan. This is the long version of our short hello, until we meet again baby boy. #onedaycloser


It started at a normal 36 week check up. “This position doesn’t feel right!” Not words you want to hear from your midwife😟 “Let’s do an ultrasound. I’m pretty sure this baby is sideways!” Sure enough, baby was side ways. I was told try spinning babies, look into acupuncture. And if I went into labor come in immediately. Babies can come out with heads and butts but not backs, so I’d be having a guaranteed C-section! Another ultrasound in a week was scheduled and a consult for trying to flip baby if there wasn’t movement before then! Well a C-section just wasn’t what I wanted for my birth plan so I tried it all. Showed up on Friday 37 weeks hoping to not have to have them try to flip baby. Hoping the stretches and acupuncture helped baby move. I really have no idea if it’d worked, I felt kicks but how was I supposed to know a butt from a head in there🤷🏼‍♀️ The ultrasound tech told me, you’re baby is head down! You don’t need to see the doctor, everything looks good. The next Monday I showed up at work and hearing from people “I was sure this was the weekend you’d be in labor!” I was 38 weeks and felt ready for the pregnancy stage to be over, but my oldest went to 39+6 so I was pretty sure I’d still have another week at least with this pregnancy. I finished my day and headed home. We’d made lasagna and joked with my husbands brother that I’d had a few contractions that day. How he was on babysitting duty for the oldest until a grandma could come from across the state. I’d had 2 contractions in our mealtime, but still felt really good. They were really spaced apart and then stopped. So I went upstairs and got Allison bathed and ready for bed. Then I decided I felt the need to lay down and told hubby he was doing stories. I felt like something might be happening and I needed to rest. It was about 9 pm and I decided to try a bath. It was what helped me most in my 1st labor and maybe it’d help me relax. I finally got out and payed in bed while Kevin times my contractions. I still felt it was so early to time anything, but he wasn’t believing me.

By 10pm they were 7 minutes apart. We thought we’d give it a little more time to get to the 5 minute mark before coming into the hospital. Then laying in bed a contraction broke my water. It was a gush of water down my legs that had me questioning, did I just pee myself or was that my water😆I jumped out of bed and rushed to the toilet trying to wipe and checking for blood and meconium while Kevin called the midwife to let her know and that we were on our way. Contractions had already increased to 5 minutes apart.

In the few minutes it took to change and have our neighbor over to stay until Kevin’s brother got here the contractions just kept coming. The timer said by 10:30 they were already 2.5 minutes apart! We rushed into the car for the 25 minute drive to the hospital and called to have them meet us at the ER! I’m sure by this point I was in transition, but had adrenaline going and was still able to talk through my contractions. We pulled in and who knew there were 2 ER doors 🚪 we of course went to the one that they weren’t waiting at! We were met by the nurse who wheeled me upstairs while Kevin parked the car. My hair was down in front of my face and she grabbed a ponytail, whipped it in a bun and wheeled me upstairs. They skipped triage and I went straight to a labor room. They put me on a monitor and I thought thank goodness I didn’t have a baby on the side of the interstate! I heard lots of scrambling and then they had the ultrasound over. “I’ve got a pulse on ultrasound, but it’s breech. Call the OB and OR. We’re coming NOW! She’s complete!” Right then Kevin was finally back. They had me switch on a moving bed. I grabbed his hand and said “what is happening?” He looked at me, “It’s breech, it’s going to be a C-Section.” Because it was an emergency section and I was going under general anesthesia Kevin couldn’t come into the OR with me. He stood outside the doors with the nurse who had first wheeled me up to labor and delivery. He waited and called our moms unsure what to even say, he had no idea what was happening to either of us. I was trying to keep it together and now think of anything I could to stall labor, but my body doesn’t like to labor slowly. All I know is I start having contractions and then in a matter of minutes I seem to have a baby. It was a mess of noise in the OR, lots of moving and sounds while I closed my eyes and tried not to push. The OB asking my name, and what we were doing today. I remember saying we’re getting the baby out. Then I remember feeling the need to push and being told to stop. Then the nurse saying “she can’t help it she’s at a 10!” Then they counted down and I was out for surgery. I’ve had people and medical records to piece together the actual birth part at 12:02 when he entered the world 🌎 Logan was indeed breech and lodged his head was also stuck in my rib cage. He’d also swallowed meconium. Then when he was out he wasn’t responsive. The threading heartbeat from the ultrasound was gone. They worked for 15 minutes on him trying to revive him, then when they were about to call it when a nurse found a faint heartbeat 💗

I’m not really sure how much time passes in surgery until I woke up in recovery I remember being fuzzy and seeing Kevin. Kevin told me the midwife came and said there wasn’t a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if she meant me or the baby. Then she told him it was a boy and that they weren’t getting him to be able to take a breath. I think the first thing I asked when I woke was “where’s the baby?” Then hearing that he’s in the NICU. They were wanting to transfer him to a higher level nicu, but they were going to wheel him by my room before transferring. I learned we’d had a boy, and that the gender was no longer the biggest surprise of our night. They told me it’d be 15 minutes without a pulse. I’d just refreshed on CPR and remembered after 7 it’s pretty much brain dead. And just kept thinking 15 minutes is too long. They told Kevin he could go to the NICU to see him and that our doula would stay with me. The pains of surgery were starting to set in and my legs were shaking uncontrollably and I was trying not to vomit 🤢 all over everything! I remember thinking I’m high on morphine and going to have to make the hardest choices of my life.

I can remember Kevin calling and asking if Logan Michael was ok for his name. We’d been on the fence for days about a middle name and he needed a name to be transferred. Then when they were getting close to the transfer our photographer came back to capture us and baby meeting before transfer. Then Kevin walked back in with the neonatologist. Kevin said he just kept having seizures and then the extent of the brain damage was explained. The doctor explained all his risks of a transfer and the amount of brain damage she was seeing. Then she carefully explained our 2 options for Logan.

Let him die with us and make him as comfortable as we could with us or try to continue treatments transferring him to a higher level NICU. Our seemingly normal labor 3 short hours earlier these were not the options I was thinking of making for my baby. I knew that I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying away from me. I knew that it was a huge risk that he’d even survive the drive across town. I couldn’t let him be in someone else’s arms in that moment before I’d even met him. I couldn’t bear to put him through treatment that would still likely never allow him to come home. We looked at each other and just felt the weight of what we were having to decide. Are we taking away his chance at life to be selfish and keep him near us? Was it selfish to try to continue treatment? I kept thinking about how long he’d be without oxygen and how much he’d already been through. Kevin had seen first hand how frail he really was and the beginning promises of transferring and getting me recovered to be discharged to be with him were a forgotten memory.

We knew that he needed to be with us. We wanted to hold him and have his death be a peaceful place not filled with machines and strangers. They told us they’d get me set up in my recovery room and then bring him in. Then they asked us about who to call. Would our 2 1/2 year old be ready to meet her brother who was going to die? I remember thinking how am I going to explain this to her. She knew a new baby was coming, how do I explain death to her? My friend who was our photographer came to sit by me and asked will it be any easier to explain it if she doesn’t get to meet her brother? I really think she should be here. It was the push I needed to think about what her grief needs would be and we woke up Kevin’s brother and said get down her. Around this same time my mom arrived, making the 3 hour midnight drive from Arkansas. I felt relief knowing she’d made it before he’d died. We sat in post op calling Kevin’s parents, and trying to reach our pastor to see if he could baptize Logan for us. We didn’t have his number, so we tried Facebook, and calling all our friends to try to reach him. We finally found someone who had his number, but he wasn’t answering. So he ended up driving at 4am to his house to knock on the door to wake him up! We finally got wheeled into recovery after what felt like days since I still hadn’t seen my baby boy. I remember wheeling me to a corner, and asking for more morphine as I was jostled around and felt like my stomach was going to split open again. Then when I was finally settled, they wheeled in the bassinet with all the cords and machine noises and our little boy in the middle. 

They slowly unhooked him from the beeping machines and moved his swaddled body over to my bed. I held Kevin’s hand and held my breath. I knew these would be the precious few moments we’d have together. 

Then his doctor placed him in my arms and I felt my heart break over seeing his perfect face. And I heard his struggle of a squeak as he tried to breathe.

We held him and cried over knowing we’d be giving him back. We cried knowing that he would never know life outside of this hospital. We would never see him take a first step, or smile at the sound of our voices. We knew these small hours were his only with us.

Shortly after he was taken off of life support and in my arms big sister came with Uncle Justin. All she did was look with pride that her baby brother was here. I can’t even remember how we tried to explain death to her. I think she understand mommy had an owie from the baby coming out and that he couldn’t come home. I remember her saying he’s not opening his eyes. It’s probably the part that stuck with her the most. My whole pregnancy with Joanna she kept saying “mommy, do you really hope this baby will open her eyes?” And when Joanna was born she was worried that her first picture she saw her eyes were closed.

She was the face of joy celebrating that he was born, reminding us that even though our hearts were being shredded into pieces that the moment of meeting him was still so amazing! We had our photographer take our picture as a family of 4. I kept thinking I hadn’t showered, my hair is still in the sweaty bun the nurse helped me with as I was wheeled in. I’m a crying mess on morphine and this is my only picture as the 4 of us! How messed up is this right now?

We made footprint and handprints trying to remember every moment. We held him and just told him how much we loved him. Around 8 our pastors came and prayed over him and baptized him. We texted what we could manage to a few friends letting them know he wouldn’t be able to come home, not yet ready for phone calls. We called our bosses and told the short story that something went wrong, we were ok, but we’d be planning a funeral and wouldn’t be at work for a while.

Our nurse asked me if I had thought about my milk coming in. I surprisingly had, I knew I was going to pump and donate. I’d donated before and knew it was my one gift I could give from this mess onto someone else. We never put him down his whole 14 1/2 hours of life. He was held in the arms of love for those short seconds of life. By the afternoon his breathing had weakened and his first bright rosy cheeks were becoming more ashen. We knew he only had minutes left.

We asked everyone to leave and Kevin kneeled on the floor as we both held Logan and cried. Have you ever cried so much that you ran out of tears? ? Your swollen eyes just give out and dry up while a current of unrest still gushes through your soul. And you look up toward heaven in utter frustration. That was us! I felt the Holy Spirit in those moments more than any place I have been. I felt an anger at God that these were my only moments and that I was forgotten. I felt cheated. I thought of all my friends with babies that were in their arms and here I was giving my son back to God at less than 1 day old.

We asked our pastor came and prayed and sat with us as we said our goodbye saying we will see you one day again. We then let the rest of our family in and held hands and prayed and sung “Jesus loves the little children.” After a while the nurse had asked if they could take him and we could get sleep. At this point we’d been up for about 36 hours straight. They assured me that if I wanted him back during the night they would bring him back. I reluctantly let him go, and tried to think of him going to the nursery rather than the morgue.

Our hospital didn’t have a cuddle cot which would’ve given him more time in our room. Now I’ve learned about these amazing devices that help keep the babies body cool and allows for less time saying repeated goodbyes as the baby goes to the morgue. My nurse tried to help me finally move out of bed and I felt like my stomach was being ripped open again now realizing I’d still have recovery from the c section to get through.

My midwife asked if I wanted something to help me sleep. I said, sure I guess I’ll take anything you’re giving at this point and finally drifted to sleep. I still had to be waken up for vitals and the fun massaging of the uterus. Just another reminder my stomach was empty and this was an awful reality. The next morning I asked for Logan back as soon as I woke up. I’d asked my mom to try to pick up some more clay for footprints. I remember her getting to the hospital and saying, the clerk said “have a nice day, I just thought what is wrong with the world for still going on? This is not a nice day.” We called our friend and photographer and asked if she could come back and do pictures of us as a family with him before the funeral home had to come to get him.

We took more pictures and then after it was becoming more evident that his skin needed to go back into a cooler we reluctantly tucked him back into his crib with his blanket and teddy bear as the nurse wheeled him away. Later that evening we made a call to the funeral home our pastor recommended and they came to pick up Logan and take him back to the funeral home. I spent the next days reading blogs and Pinterest finds about planning a funeral for a baby, looking for someone who had walked this path and was still functioning.

A Birthday Lost in Neverland

2 years in heaven is as if it was a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time. We will be remembering you and trying to celebrate you the best we can as the waves come and surround us today.

If you are on Instagram and want to remember his story search for #Instabirth0726 and see his birth and life story and help us remember his short time here.

Happy Birthday Logan boy. I can hardly believe it’s been 2 years since I was clinging to you in my arms wishing for a miracle that would selfishly keep you with me. I know we made the right decision to not let you suffer, but I still wish you hadn’t had to go before me on your journey to heaven. It’s just against every pattern our lives are supposed to follow.

I’ve heard your in a better place at least 1,000 times and I’ve rejoiced at least this many times for you. But I still just feel homesick longing for you. I just feel out of place on days like today. Torn between heaven and Earth and not being able to be seeing your face on days like this.

I have no idea what being a boy mom is like. Would your party have been all about dinosaurs or construction stuff like your daddy? Instead of opening new toys to celebrate you we open messages of remembering you. I have so been wondering what you would be looking like at 2. Would have lost your baby fat by now, how many words would you be able to say? What would you have thought of me if you’d been able to open your eyes? Would you have said this family is crazy and loud and been the quiet introvert or been screaming with the craziness of your big sister?

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t absolutely ache for you little boy. I wish I had some great silver lining to make anyone reading this feel better, but really losing someone this close to you and changing the life plans you thought you had isn’t a silver lining. It’s just hard.

You learn to still breathe and somehow figure out how to do things like pay bills and feed the 4 year old. You do learn to laugh again. But I will always have a moment of looking at the moments of happiness and seeing one face missing. Seeing one little blonde boy with chubby cheeks who should be grinning with me.

I’m going to celebrate today and the 15 hours you were here where you touched so many. You’ve taught us big grown ups way more than we thought we’d ever learn from a guy who’d just gotten here.

So though you’re not going to get the chance to grow up and are forever staying a lost boy like Peter Pan I’m sure you’re still going to wait for me. Logan know your mommy and daddy always have a place for you in our hearts. You are forever loved and forever missed. Especially on days like this. We love you to the moon, the sun and all the stars.

Wave of lightning 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.

Today is a nationally recognized day of remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss of those lives gone far too soon. 

This month:

We remember the babies born sleeping. Those we’ve carried and never met. Those we’ve held but couldn’t take home. The ones who came home, but couldn’t stay. 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.

The Missing Boots

As the seasons change and we enter into the crisper barren brown of fall, there’s something missing from it in my heart that cannot be filled.

Forever and always I will look forward to the fall. The change from the heat of the summer so heavily filled with Logan’s memory of his brief 1 day with us into a new chapter. It seemed fitting the first year after loss to watch the season change into a season where everything felt as barren and brown as I felt.

This fall I’ve smelt the crisper air and am once again hearing the cheers as the home football team scores a touchdown. I still am enjoying a new breath of fresher air from the summer heat. It starts a season that seems filled with kid-centric holidays and gatherings. From the pumpkin patches, to halloween where they seriously seem to knock down your door! And all of that just bleeds into Christmas and toys and innocence of Santa being able to grant a wish.

I can’t help but think as we move into the season it’s one more time without all of my children with me. As we walked amongst the apple trees I couldn’t help but see other families with siblings and wonder what ours would be like if they could have been here. There should be 2 on Earth and one still growing inside of me. That fact that any future child will be a 4th and not 2nd is a hard one to swallow. I know whenever someone asks me how many kids I have, they are probably not wanting the whole sad backstory. They mean merely to be polite and probably don’t really care whatever that number is.

It is something I still grapple with each day when to protect my heart from the pity stares of the truth or denying my true number of children. For me they know they are in my heart no matter what is seen in front of the world. I will always see another pair of shoes that should be filled.


The Elephant Never Forgets

There’s maybe more meaning to the saying ‘an elephant never forgets’ than you thought you knew. These animals are gentle giants walking this Earth who have so much teach us.

Did you ever think that there’s a reason to the saying ‘an elephant never forgets’? Elephants are able to remember all of the grazing land and watering holes from across hundreds of miles which it feeds from. They will remember threats such as lions or poachers. Their memory is part of their survival. 

Elephants are one of the most complex animals who are capable of emotions as humans such as joy, love, sadness, grief, compassion and distress. When a mother loses a calf the other mothers and aunts surround her in a circle as she cries. The mother feels this loss and is visible through her depressed mood and sunken eyes. The herd will cover their deceased with branches as an act of dignity. When a herd encounters an elephant skeleton they will contemplate the bones and show respect for the deceased. Their gift of compassion and memory is truly unique and something to learn from.

The elephant is considered by many cultures to be symbolic of wisdom, loyalty, strength, fidelity and longevity. No other animal on land matches the strength of an elephant. In many Asian cultures it’s considered good luck to place an elephant with its trunk up near a front entrance to encourage this strength in the home.

 The more I have learned about these beautiful creatures the more I am amazed at how Gods creatures continue to amaze me. The elephant has become part of our family symbol that we will never forget and we are a herd of remembrance. We may always have an elephant in the room that may not be seen, but his presence is always felt.

Music Monday (What Kind Of Day Has It Been?)

Some days it’s just easier to start a day with a song. It’s good to remember that life is wondrous and beautiful. I think it reminds you that following your heart will get you to a new place of Love. That we never imagined we’d end up here, but we followed our hearts and has led us to this place.

The question “What kind of day has it been?” is one Aaron Sorkin asks on almost everyone of his shows. It’s a question that I’ve been trying to be more mindful of asking. What can I look at from today that was the high point? Not everyday has more highs than goods, but taking time to reexamine each day has become increasingly important to me. We were reminded in church this morning that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. That is a lesson I continue to learn and attempt to appreciate each moment of each day.



No Ruler to Measure Grief

So many people who have contacted me since I started writing with their own stories. These are stories of old wounds, vulnerability and reopened scars and the memories that haunt us at night. They usually start with a disclaimer “it doesn’t compare to what has happened to you” or “I wasn’t as far as you were.”

These disclaimers make me think that at some point our society decided that we need to rank measures of loss. That for some reason some hurt was worth more than another hurt. We try to minimize our hurt and be a martyr. I’ve learned that to rank a loss is just cruel. The worst thing that could happen did and that’s all that matters. The weight of your loss is not transferrable and not measurable. If it’s heavy for you it should be acknowledged and that’s really all that matters.

I want to thank the many people who have opened up and shared stories of their scars. They are all special and unique and part of what bind us together. We all have struggles and are all trying to persevere.

There is enough suffering to go around and it can be overwhelming. We don’t need to put comparisons or disclaimers on our emotions.

Some of best advice in those darkest first months was to try to talk to myself like I was talking to my best friend. She let me acknowledge I was in the trenches and to remind myself to be kind while I was trying to fight a war with myself.

If your waiting for a permission slip to feel complicated things all at once here it goes. Remember your allowed to be happy about good things while your sad about good things. Your allowed to be proud of every mountain you have climbed. You are not obligated to justify your feelings. Especially feelings of grief. You are not obligated to minimize your loss.

We are all here to bear witness to one another. To lend a hand when we see someone slipping. I hope that you know this is not a competition of who has it worse. No one really wants to win that competition.

Remember to be to yourself. To talk to yourself as if you were your own best friend and not the guilt tripping enemy you maybe listening to in your head. I’ve found that grief is a complication of emotions of sadness mixed with happy mixed with another sadness about feeling happy. Remember your not crazy, it’s just grief. And anyone who thinks grief is a smooth transition of checkmarks is probably living in some crazy sub-universe!

Why I Write 

If we haven’t already met, hi I’m Sara! I’m writing this blog for my son Logan. His time in this world was a brief 14 1/2 hours, but so much love was shared during his short time here. I write to families who have experienced grief, and to those who support them on their journeys.

I write about what has brought me joy and what I wish others would understand about the complexities in my mind as I navigate new normal. Ideally, I’m writing in this public manner because I was tired of whining in my journal about wishing more people would understand my thoughts after. I want people to not walk on egg shells around me. I want people to know what has helped and what still hurts. Some of my writings are for me to get the day off my chest. While others come after I think now I have the perfect thing I wish I would’ve said at the time. There are many times where it’s easier to write it down and send it into cyberspace than to try to think of the right words in the moment.

I hope that you feel free to share any of my writings if they are helpful to you. I want to thank each of you for taking the time to read any of my posts and getting to know me and my family.


Your Irreplaceable

Time will not change that. Time does not heal all wounds, it allows for a different perspective.

No matter what stage in life our children are not replaceable. No matter how many others I hold in my arms they will not be the one I lost.

I’ve talked to other loss mama’s about how we could all write books of the stupid ‘helpful” things we’ve heard since our loss. One of the top is: “Your young you can always have more.”

It truly aches hearing that.

It assumes that children are interchangeable.

This is usually not meant to be said in a hurtful manner. It’s thought to be look on the bright side. But really it is just minimizing the loss.

Would you say to your grandparent who just lost their partner of 50 years “Don’t worry you can always get married again?”

NO! That would sound completely insincere. You know that although they could get remarried it doesn’t mean that time is forgotten with their loss.

Although our time was shorter than we had wanted with Logan. Having a living child or any possible future children do not replace his place in our family.

The moment that those 2 pink lines show up your life is changed. You make plans before the child is fully formed. You alter your life choices and prepare space in your heart and home for the future you hope for.

Time will not change that. Time does not heal all wounds, it allows for a different perspective.

No matter what stage in life our children are not replaceable. No matter how many others I hold in my arms they will not be the one I lost.

I have heard other loss moms judging me by reminding me to be thankful for my living children. Which I am. But that does not mean I do not mourn the one who is not here.

I’m asking for a stop in the mommy wars.

We are all broken. You may have good intentions. I do not think anyone who has said this has said it purposefully trying to be hurtful. I just ask you to remember: children are irreplaceable.

No matter how long their stay was on this earth, there will never be another exactly like them.

The “If Only” of Mama Guilt

This guilt is a different monster. It is filled with questions like “If Only…”

“You failed to keep your baby alive”

“I had one job.”

“Why did I survive?”

“You failed your child.”

If Only...

When I had my first child I thought I had done my homework like so many first time moms. I read all the healthy pregnancy books, first year baby books. I had the aps that told me what fruit or vegetable my little  munchkin was the size of each week.

Then reality hit. I had a baby screaming in my arms and realized that I hadn’t ever changed a diaper much less held a child so small and been expected to keep it alive. What the hospital and all the books failed to really tell me about that was in addition to my baby I was leaving the hospital with a big welcome to motherhood bag of guilt.

Guilt over reanalyzing every choice made for your child. Guilt that I used the TV as a baby-sitter, disposable diapers, daycare choices and being a working mom.

I thought I had figured out how to let it go with my second pregnancy. I had come to the realization that we are not the always clean house put together family. Accepted that my child will probably eat more fast-food, watch more TV than maybe on my ideal wish list.

What I was not prepared for was not taking my child home and the guilt that followed. This guilt is a different monster. It is filled with questions like “If Only…”

“You failed to keep your baby alive”

“I had one job.”

“Why did I survive?”

“You failed your child.”

There’s enough guilt that we put on ourselves that we have to work though. If I can give any advise to those supporting those in grief. It’s lay off any guilt trips. Believe me we have enough of one going on within ourselves.

I need to hear from my husband and other moms that “You did not fail! Not even a little!”

I know that I cannot always be an attentive mom to both my child in heaven and the one here on Earth at the same time. There is always one that is being neglected. It’s a balancing act that has no permanent solution.

The best that I can do is to let go of those questions. I am the best mother that I can be at this time.

I have to let go of thinking my thoughts were so powerful that they wished for any of this. I have made the right decisions for my family.

The only question left is “Am I choosing to forgive myself today and let go?”





Would You Like To Tell Me About Your Family

Instead of asking ‘How many kids do you have?’ Consider what will you say if they don’t have any, or what if they came here to not talk about kids. Ask them instead ‘would you like to tell me about your family?’

I used to get so much enjoyment from a day of pampering. A day for me to Just relax and enjoy. Most recently I have found myself having an almost breakdown before having to psyche myself up before entering the salon.

The reason is simple. I know I am putting myself in a situation where I will be asked THE QUESTION.

‘So do you have kids?’

I can’t explain with enough accuracy the gut wrench that is this question. Do I say 1 on Earth and not mention my 1 in heaven?

Do I rock their world and say a 1 day old who died and a 3 year old who loves to talk about him, even at sometimes uncomfortable times.

My most recent time I said a 3 year old and baby hoping to leave it at that. Of course it was eventually asked about him and had to tell about his passing. Which mostly leaves the unassuming person totally shocked and feeling guilty.

For the record I never feel guilty for talking about Logan. He is a part of our family who we talk about every day. What makes me mad is how strangers will never ask me what his name was and how the conversation basically ends there.

Through my journey into motherhood I have met so many other types of mothers who all have their own thoughts on this question.

The mom who has no living child, but fought so hard to try to become one through every attempt surgery and miscarriage. The one who went through everything for her baby girl to have an unfair ruling and custody lost. The mom’s who aren’t sure if they should just say look at the alive child and feel guilt ridden for neglecting the loss.

I beg for all of us with complicated answers to this awful question, please ask us:

‘Would you like to tell me about your family?’

Please allow us to tell you on our terms.

Neverland-That Place Between Awake and Asleep

It was a place between asleep and awake that reminds me of Peter Pan. A place where he’s waiting and will be with me.

Since this I can go to sleep with the hope that someone else will visit me and tell me about whose caring for Logan and hear that he’s ok.

This post has been on my mind to write for a while. This actually happened last October and I had felt hesitant about sharing it publicly because it was so moving for me. After sharing it with a friend pushed me to try to share this because there’s some other adult children who were lost and their parents might like to hear about it too.

To also preface this story after we lost Logan I was having an incredibly hard time going to sleep and would wake up about 2-3 times a night and be unable to fall back asleep and watched hours of Netflix’s trying to take my mind off why I couldn’t sleep. In October we went on a visit to see my mom and step-dad in Arkansas. I’m sure Logan saw his Mama suffering and thought he needed to try to do something. So here goes my Neverland dream:

The dream started with me and Kevin in a really long weaving line. I think we were waiting in line to go into some building. The line made a switchback and suddenly I was standing in line next to Justin. (Justin was a friend of a friend I had known back in college. Justin was one of the most genuine and kind people I have had the pleasure of knowing. In February 2012 he and a friend were on a trip to Houston. They were driving back to their hotel and a drunk driver going the wrong way on the interstate hit their car head on. Justin and his friend Shelia were killed in the accident.)

I saw Justin and he was standing next to Shelia, whom I had never met in my life on Earth. I gave Justin a big hug. In my dream I knew it was weird that he was there because he had passed. I gave him a hug and wanted to talk to him and he was gone. Then Shelia gave me a hug. While embraced with her she picked up my necklace with Logan’s picture on it. She asked me what this was for. I told her this was Logan, but he’s passed away. She said ‘I know and he wants you to know that he’s ok. He’s just not strong enough to come back yet.’ 

Then suddenly she drifted away and I was embraced in a hug with Allie and Kevin. I woke up in a slow floating feeling. I can remember fighting to not wake up that I wanted to go back to the dream and ask Shelia so many more questions.

It was a place between asleep and awake that reminds me of Peter Pan. A place where he’s waiting and will be with me. 

I’m sure that Justin was there so that I would recognize Shelia. I know his pain is over. I know that there are so many more people caring for Logan than I can even think of. I know even though I want to ask for babysitting references for him, he’s got the best references of all.

Since this time sleep has become so much easier for me. I can go to sleep with hopes of another Logan dream. With the hope that someone else will visit and tell me about what he’s doing and that he still thinks of those who love him on Earth.

I Will Always Wonder Who You Would Have Been


I couldn’t help thinking as I drove my daughter to school today how this day should have been so different. This should have been Logan’s first day of daycare. I should have spent this last week freaking out if I had enough milk for him while I was away at work. Are the teachers I’ve trusted with him going to be meeting his needs just as I have been over these past 5 months? This fall and holiday season were supposed to be mommy/son bonding time. We were supposed to have had so much time with just the 2 of us. The thought of who you would have been is a question I will always wonder and never get to know on this side of heaven.

I am thankful for those who wonder with me. Those who help remember that I am a mother of 2 even though they can only see 1. Today I am lost in wonder. The wonder of what my reunion with Logan will one day be. Will he be the baby that I will finally be able to hold again, or a grown man? One day I will have answers to my wondering. Until then I will continue to be amazed at how life continues to slowly move on, but how so many lives are forever changed from the brief moment Logan was with us. Even the smallest things can have the greatest impact.

When The Waves Hit

Until this wave I had forgotten how grief can physically hurt! How your arms long for something that you can no longer hold! Grief can tear you up until you are raw!

#infantloss #lifeafterloss #oneinfour #writingisthereapy

Most of the time I feel pretty together. There’s many times now where I can put the memories aside and focus on the present. A feeling of being both present and also my mind on Logan has become my new way of thought. I feel I’ve prepared myself for the dark days when I know they’re coming. For the holiday celebrations and making time for myself to have my time alone. I feel like overall I’m getting better at managing my life with grief as a partner.

Every so often there’s a wave that will come out and even though I think I’m ready for the grief it seems to almost swallow me whole.

The other day at church I felt this wave as I watched a family walk up with their baby to be baptized. It wasn’t the ceremony that got me, it was actually seeing the baptism gown. I was hit with a wave so hard I felt that I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from myself. The sudden memory of Logan in the same gown that myself and my daughter had worn. The memories of him cuddled in his blanket in his casket instead of a bassinet.

Until this wave I had forgotten how grief can physically hurt! How your arms long for something that you can no longer hold! Grief can tear you up until you are raw!

There’s times can come crashing down reminding you of what you don’t have. How overwhelming the sense of anxiety is when you’re in the thick of it.

I know times like this are now a regular part of my life.

That in between the waves, there is life. That some days I’ll see it coming and others where the day will wash over you. I may have some more learning to do from these waves.

I know that without my support I would allow myself to get swallowed. To be surrounded by those who understand why some moments I have to walk away and not have to explain has allowed me to allow myself to surrender to some of the waves that hit.

This week was a reminder to me that sometimes I still don’t know as much as I think I do.

In order to heal you’ve got to feel.

Finding Love

I’ve learned that there will not be a time that I won’t be remembering or grieving, but it won’t always be a tsunami. Grief comes in waves and sometimes you swim around it and sometimes you go under, but I have learned that through God I will always be able to come up.

The only advice I remember really grasping onto is to talk to yourself as if you were your best friend. Be kind to yourself. That some days one breath at a time is good enough.

I know before I had experienced loss I had friends who had gone through grief of parents death and I had been a faltering mess. I’m sure I said some really not so helpful things most likely starting with “At least..” I can’t say how much I wish I could take back any of these words. The only thing I feel that I have truly learned over the last 204 days is that there is nothing that is least about grief. I didn’t realize this until I was standing at my sons funeral being comforted by “At least he didn’t suffer,” or “he’s in a better place.” Really there is no better place than our home for him, and no I don’t actually know that he didn’t suffer. Technically he lost oxygen for too long and probably became unconscious but I can’t imagine his fight to get more oxygen him not suffering but as he was a baby how can he explain that?

I have learned that overall everyone really does mean well. Even when it’s the wrong words and they stumble. They want to love you and they feel sorry for your pain. I have learned that there are only a few who truly are willing to get in the trenches of the pain with you. Those who don’t think you’re crazy for just wanting to sit down and cry with together. Those who answer the texts at 3 AM when sleep is too much. Those who say I don’t have a solution or magical words. Those that say they just don’t know what to say.

I’m sure most people don’t understand this type of grief. Most people my age have maybe lost a pet or a grandparent whose passing was expected. I think everyone thinks it is sad and understands that. I don’t think that people understand that it is not something that you can just get over. For them it is probably forgotten about after two weeks.

Those who haven’t experienced child loss will be spared from your thoughts of looking at babies the same age as your missing one. They probably are wondering why your staring when you’re lost in grief thinking is When you hear someone shouting his name for their own child and your heart stops beating. You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut and reminded all over again that it is not your child they are calling.

They don’t see all of the childcare forms asking how many kids are you registering. How this will make you think this should be for two.

There is so much love that has surrounded us and so many lives that have been touched by Logans short time with us. There are times I’m so grateful for these reminders that for a moment he was mine and I was his. There are other moments when I’m angry that I’m left with reminders rather than him. How I would trade all of these for him just to be with me for a moment again.

I have learned that no amount of sadness will be able to bring him back, just the same as my happiness does not erase him from my heart.

I’ve learned that the stages of grief chart is a total lie! That grief is messy and unorganized and cannot be put into a neat little box. Some days you move forward some days you’re the same.

I’ve learned that there will not be a time that I won’t be remembering or grieving, but it won’t always be a tsunami. Grief comes in waves and sometimes you swim around it and sometimes you go under, but I have learned that through God I will always be able to come up.

The only advice I remember really grasping onto is to talk to yourself as if you were your best friend. Be kind to yourself. That some days one breath at a time is good enough.

I’ve learned that grief has helped strengthen our marriage. That as we have learned as we grieve differently we recognize this need in each other. I have learned that God has not failed me. God is with me in pain and joy. There is an eventual reunion, although I want God’s time and my time to be the same. There is a deeper love I have found through grief.



If you haven’t seen the movie ‘We Bought a Zoo’ the 2011 film with Matt Damon I’ll give you a short run down. Damon’s wife passes away and looking for a fresh start he buys a dilapidated zoo and works to reopen it with some quirky staff members. There’s this scene shortly after his wife passes away that it shows him opening the door and thanking the many people who show up all bringing him lasagna. I’m wondering if this was meant to be satirical or if someone in the writers room had actually had experience with this. From my own personal experience it seemed a little close to home. That everyone really does have 1 dish they bring and it’s usually lasagna. Now, I love lasagna and carbs, but there was so much lasagna.

One night we were so excited when someone came with a bowl of cut up fruit and enchiladas. We had been overwhelmed with meals and left overs during the first weeks I had yet to make it to the grocery store, but someone thoughtfully picked us up some breakfast things and my daughters favorite snacks. Another great gift we were given was paper plates, plastic silverware, napkins and toilet paper. When your grieving you usually have several extra people in your house and you will be so thankful to not have to worry about someone cleaning your dishes or putting them away. I know people mean well in cleaning for me but it still stressed me out later trying to look where things got put away.

I have to say the people who just showed up at my house with food, cleaned, took my kid were the best. My therapist has told me several times that the burden lies on the griever with what you want people to do. I had a few people who did not wait for directions they knew my daughter needed to burn off some energy and that we needed a break from the constant needs of a 3 year old.

It’s also important to show up and also ask the griever if you are planning on cleaning. That stack of papers may not look important, but it might be the last thing the deceased was organizing. Seemingly unceremonious things become sacred memories for the survivor. I can’t always explain the logic, I wouldn’t let anyone wash my sports bra I was wearing when I went into labor. It’s finally washed and now folded in with Logan’s box, because to me it’s now too special to bring myself to wear again.

When you initially speak to someone walking a road of grief please don’t emphasize that ‘time will make it better’, ‘that their loved one is in a better place’, or ‘at least you have…’ Not only are these things cliché but they also emphasize that you are separated from this place where your loved one is. That the only place you want to be is with the one you have lost. There is no at least that will change that. Today is not the day of your splendid reunion, it is a time reminding you of your long separation. It is way too much honesty to absorb in these darkest of days. Overall be mindful. I wish I had been brave enough to tell some people just to leave the food at my door. Making small talk with those who I barely knew was at times excruciating. I knew they were probably wanting to get out of the situation as much as I was. If it is at all possible don’t linger. You can even arrange a time to drop it off and text the person.

Please continue to bring comfort food, desert, and wine. And bring it in a disposable container that doesn’t needed to be coordinated to be returned. Remind them that they are loved and that you will walk beside them. Now when I have that cheesy bubbling joy of lasagna I am reminded of all my friends who brought me their signature dishes. The love that they poured out for me when they didn’t know what else to do. I hope I will learn to be able to nurture others the way I have been so lovingly nurtured. I am forever grateful for all the lasagna, but in the future I will be finding a new signature dish to bring when called.

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