We have been at marriage therapy for about a year, now only going to appointments once a month as a check-in. Now heading toward four years since Nelle died, and nearly two years since our rainbow baby was born, it feels like we have worked through the heavy stuff and are just “fine tuning the top” as our therapist likes to say. Continue reading
These past few weeks, we have felt very unlucky. Ger had a nasty bout of pneumonia that put him out of commission for about 8 days, leaving me struggling to juggle work and the kids. Then a week ago, with finally everyone healthy, we were driving to Noodles and Company for dinner, only to have our minivan die on the side of the road. Continue reading
My husband and I have a long-standing arrangement on weekends. On Saturday morning, he sleeps in and I wrangle all of the kids. Up with Autumn around 6:00, breakfast for the older kids when they wander into the kitchen around 6:45… usually pancakes or waffles. By 8:00, I have left the house with Autumn in tow to go run errands for the week. The big kids have their morning screen time and Ger keeps sleeping. All of this lasts until about 9:30 when I return home from shopping, screen time is over, everyone is awake and the weekend day commences. Continue reading
The day before Thanksgiving, Ger made a comment to me that Thanksgiving was an “easy” holiday. Unlike the anticipation of Christmas or the stigma of Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving was just a day to be grateful for what you have, in his mind.
I responded “But what about people who are hurting?” I pointed out people that we know who are going through or newly divorced. Families with tensions and forced interactions. People spending a first holiday without a parent who passed away within the last year. And of course, the countless families in our world who are spending the day missing a baby that died. Continue reading
This time, three years ago, were the “early days.” Sixteen days since we learned that Nelle had died. Fifteen days since she had been born. I had already been to see a therapist twice. I don’t remember if I had started working again or not. And Theo’s birthday loomed – a trip to a waterpark hotel, planned months in advance. I was relieved that we were not hosting a party, and simultaneously felt so much pressure to make the weekend celebratory for him – that he could be blissfully aware of the searing pain I still felt every minute of every day. Continue reading