• More than just socks

    October 10, 2017

    “They’re just socks”  I say to myself as I pull the pair of white, patterned socks from the drawer. “Put them on. They are just socks.”   That day, whenever I caught a glimpse of my sock-clad feet, the emotions stirred. Sadness. Grief. Guilt. Anger. I became angrier and angrier until at last I pulled off…

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  • In short, this was all my fault

    September 25, 2017

    I knew I shouldn’t have moved those tables all by myself for the potluck at school. I knew I shouldn’t have been working out at the gym when the walking gave me side pains. Mostly, though, I knew something had been wrong the week before when I had gone to the bathroom and seen some…

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  • How the Decision of Cremating My Son Has Helped Me Heal

    September 19, 2017

    I sleep with my son’s urn every night. His urn is nestled between his Molly bear and his stuffed elephant, Ellis, when I climb into bed. To keep them warm and close, I wrap a blanket around them. Every night, I have to place him there and kiss his urn before I can go to…

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  • An Unexpected Trigger

    September 12, 2017

    One thing I discovered through this first year of grief – I hate packing. It’s not something I could have anticipated being a trigger. I have a very Type A personality. I must be organized. Things need to follow a routine or it throws me completely off. Maybe that’s why packing to leave home is…

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  • Draining the Swamp: Using EMDR Therapy to Treat PTSD After Baby Loss

    September 8, 2017

    “Here you go,” she handed me two-pager sized buzzers, one for each hand. She turned the knob to on and I felt an instant discomfort. At first I was itchy. Then suddenly, I was back in a dimly lit hospital bed, my doula cooing in my ear. I was doing my best to fight against…

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  • In These Moments

    August 3, 2017

    It’s late at night, the chaos and diversions of the day slowly drift away. The house is still and I’m finally able to escape from the hustle and bustle that preoccupy my thoughts. It is in these silent moments that I find her, and together we sit as mother and daughter. It’s here, in the…

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  • If These Walls Could Speak

    June 14, 2017

    [media-credit id=61 align=”alignleft” width=”233″][/media-credit] For any bereaved parent who has left the home they grieved in. I stand alone in the kitchen. The house is now empty. It’s currently early evening and it is still filled with light. It has always been so bright and cheery in here. The scene takes me back in memory…

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