When Your Baby Dies You Get To Be Angry

The anger arrived three days after my daughter died. I sat in my hospital bed staring down at my arms. Purple and swollen from blown out veins and the IVs and tubes that saved my life. My skin, mottled and ugly, bearing the bruises of my battle with death. The battle that I only half…

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In Our House, We Never Say “Don’t Cry”

We cry in this house. We cry when the grandma dies in Moana, we cry when we don't get our way, and we cry when we're tired. It doesn't matter if you're a toddler or an adult--everyone in our household cries. What happens when we cry? We comfort one another, we pass the tissues, we…

The Power of ‘And’: How One Word Changed The Way I Grieve

Five weeks after Dorothy died, my nephew was born.  I remember going to to our weekly therapy session and sharing this news with our therapist.  Of course she wanted to know how I was feeling about his arrival.  I replied that I was so happy that he was safely here but I was also happy…