If someone approached me one day and asked me what emotion I have swirling inside, on a continuous reel, among the many, I’d name “guilt”.

Guilt that my sons were born so early.
Guilt that we lost our first child.
Guilt that our household runs on just one income.
Guilt that I don’t keep a tidier home.
Guilt that I didn’t push harder for lost friendships.
Guilt that my boy has to push through a world that pushes back.

The list goes on for me.

This time of year (and tomorrow specifically) is quite difficult for me, and for our family.

And around this time, with each year that passes, my body begins to feel that physical painful reminder of what could and should have been.
That pain in my chest, unlike any other, 7 years ago.
The pain that fills your heart and mind when you unexpectedly suffer the loss of a child.

Through this time each year, there’s no truer statement than “it feels just like it was yesterday”.

I share none of this to dwell, or to spread sadness, or to invoke sympathy, or pity. I share this in yet another attempt to connect. To let you all in, and show you who I am.
Who we are.

For a long time, my husband and I felt like we were walking around, hand-in-hand, alone. Not physically, but in every other way.
We felt isolated to our thoughts.
I often made comments about feeling as though I was covered in “sticky notes”, that had my feelings of loss on display. Like in every public place, everyone was staring, though that was never the case. No one knew (or cared about) our life.
And I wasn’t sure which was worse.

You see, the guilt is always there, it simply shifts.

It often morphs from my personal guilt that my body and pregnancy were never a match that thrived, to the guilt of feeling like a sub-par parent.

And I know that at least one of the two, others often battle with.

The therapeutic, and blissful joy that I yet exude from this blog, and from the friendships I have been unexpectedly blessed with, is intense.
The love that our boy exudes from every fiber of his body, everyday saves my life.

And it affirms every word that I preach here, that finding your people is just as important as finding your voice.
So whether you can empathize with pieces of our world, or are just here to learn, and follow, and love, I appreciate you! Remember that.

We were somehow blessed with two angels. One here on earth, disguised as a 5 year-old Disney loving little boy, for us to love and cherish. And one that we can no longer see with our eyes, but feel with every step.

Today I felt compelled to write, if for no other purpose, than to remind you that now that you are here, right here… I promise you will never be alone.
I am here for you.
I see you. In whatever color emotion you are wearing today.
And you’ll always have a place. 🖤