To my "before" self

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To my "before" self

Today's guest post is from Jessica Wilson: 'The next time around, treasure each moment. This is all the time you will have with her. Don’t waste it. When it’s gone, it will all feel like a dream and like you lived in an alternate universe. So sing from the rooftops during your next pregnancy, dance like nobody’s watching with her inside of your belly, and let her hear your bellowing laugh. Don’t spend your days scared or fearful. This will be your only time with her and you need to spend every moment loving this baby before she goes. And when she does go—I, my friend, your after self, will be waiting for you to teach you the lessons of pain, love, and what it means to live.'

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I dreamed of houses

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I dreamed of houses

I dreamed of houses. Houses we forgot we owned so the grass grew up tall, turned prickly and brown. Abandoned houses. Rundown, peeling paint, walls that fell away at a light touch. But wandering through those dream-rooms, some conscious neuron fired, and the realization slowly bloomed: Wait, we already have a house, a cozy life. How did we get here? What now?

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Happy crappy birthday

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Happy crappy birthday

I am glad I was born. I am glad I made my parents happy. I am glad I met the love of my life and got to spend my life with him. I feel immensely blessed for giving birth to two beautiful children. I feel immeasurably fortunate to be able to raise one of them. And even on my birthday, and maybe more that day, I am dead for having lost the other one.

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Earthquake

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Earthquake

No one can live in heightened grief forever but I never expected to find that happiness was possible again. You wouldn't know to look at me now, save for the look in my eyes that I often see in pictures of bereaved mothers, that look you can always glimpse, even when they smile. He changed the ground beneath my feet, my first and beloved little boy.

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