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Author's Series: Writing Through the Grief of Miscarriage and a Mother’s Illness

We're so excited to introduce something new to our blog: The Author's Series. Each month, we'll be sharing a story from an author who has written about their experiences in motherhood. Their stories are vastly different, yet all share the common thread of motherhood. We hope that you enjoy seeing this journey through their eyes...and keep your eyes on our social media for some fun giveaways!

Why You Won’t See Me Cry on the First Day of School

Why You Won’t See Me Cry on the First Day of School

 So, while I am sad that I might not clearly remember what it feels like to have a chubby toddler hand in mine or a ginormous preschooler hug on her first day of school...my hope is that in their place I will experience my fingers entwined with that of a woman’s as we prepare for her wedding, or the tight hug of a young adult as we drop her off for her first year at a university.

The Silent Mother: A Mother's Day Tribute.

The Silent Mother: A Mother's Day Tribute.

You are not forgotten. You are not weak or less of a woman. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are remembered and honored. YOU have the toughest job in the world, for to contain such love with no child to pour that love upon…yes…that is the toughest job in the world. This Mother’s Day, I celebrate you.

Relax and Pedal Harder

Relax and Pedal Harder

My daughter has been learning to ride a big girl bike; it is hard, scary, and frustrating (For both of us.) Re-perched after a fall, she began to sing, "relax and pedal harder; relax and pedal harder when you're scared on a bike."  I smiled and breathed deeply – those were just words Mama needed to hear.

Joziah's Story

Joziah's Story

"They wheeled us to the back of the delivery ward away from everyone else and 1 hour later, our quiet, beautiful baby boy came into the world. I don’t remember much due to the medicine, but I’ll never forget pushing. A beautiful nurse, Beth, took our baby and prayed over him and cleaned him. We eventually held him, but I don’t know how long after he was born that we did this. Time was not important anymore. Nothing was. In the following days, we held Joziah, cried over him, took pictures of him, questioned why over and over and made funeral arrangements. Leaving the hospital was the worst. It was a feeling of deep sorrow, failure, shame, guilt which all sat on my lap instead of a baby to go home."