These past couple of weeks I’ve used two words a lot that I used to tell the girls I didn’t want to hear in the summer time.

I’m bored.

If I heard them say it I always had a quick comeback, “bored, great…let me find you something to do.” That was always followed by an eye roll.

I have plenty to do, plenty to keep me busy – I probably should start working on some house projects before the little one comes ~ but I’m bored.

My boredom comes from the fact that all of those things are not what I want to be doing, what I want to be doing is playing with my girls, taking them to the park, hosting playdates and listening to them laugh with their friends, having lemonade stands and homemade popsicles, going to see matinees to get out of the heat or movies on the lawn at McMenamins with friends, going to every fountain in Portland so we can rate which one we like best and going on early morning trips to the zoo before everyone else arrives;  the list goes on and on.

I shared this with someone the other day and they, trying to make me feel better which is appreciated, said, “don’t worry you will have plenty of that soon with your new addition.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about what this person said because I don’t think that I can express in words why that will not cure my boredom. Even with a new life in our house the presence of Anna and Abigail will always be missed ~ nothing or no one will ever fill that void.  I know the person was only trying to comfort me and I do really appreciate that ~ it just got me thinking.

I worry at times that sitting at the park with our little one will be hard, maybe too hard at times. I often wonder how I will parent Anna and Abigail’s little brother or sister with my broken heart.

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Happiness Journal


Last night Tom got home from work and said let’s go camping. Ben is in town this week and we decided that a little overnight adventure would be good ~ plus we needed to try out our new car top tent.

As Tom gathered up our camping gear I could tell he was struggling. The last time our gear was out was when we went to Orcas Island as a family, the summer of 2013. The three of us stood in the kitchen, all very aware of the pain in our hearts, and then Tom said, “ok, let’s go”.

Sometimes that’s what it takes when we have memories from the past collide with the absence we feel today ~ sometimes we just need to say, “ok, let’s go.”

With each new adventure comes new memories, none of which will ever take away from the memories we have with Anna and Abigail, but instead will build on them.

This morning as I sat and watched the smoke from the fire I closed my eyes and could hear them giggling ~ I could hear their laughter so clearly.

I remembered moments from that adventure that needed this adventure to come alive again. I remembered how happy we all were to be together as a family in the woods. I remember Abigail making fairy houses hoping that our fairies would find our new temporary home. I remember Anna riding on her brothers back through the woods   pretending to be asleep with eyes shut but a big grin on her face. I remember rides into town with Emily chatting about life.

I remember sitting in this spot thankful for my family and the chance to connect outside the daily routine of our lives. 

Those memories from Orcas Island colliding with last night’s adventure makes me happy (and sad because I miss our girls so much).

What also makes me happy is Tom’s willingness to push us forward by saying, “ok, let’s go.”


I remember the first time I realized the flutter in my belly was actually Anna moving around. It was the first time I felt a life growing inside of me. I smile at the memory of lying in my bed, hands on my belly, realizing that I was going to be a mom ~ Anna’s mom.

Years later, while cuddling her in bed, we would talk about how she was the only one that had ever heard my heartbeat from the inside. She loved that fact and so did I.

Last night I felt the flutter, it was subtle but I know it’s our little one stretching, moving, and if it’s anything like Tom, dancing. This little one can also hear my heartbeat from the inside. I’m sure that Anna feels honored to share this with her little brother or sister.

There are times in our lives when our journey or life circumstances create a realization in our hearts and minds that may not have been realized if things were different. I have to be honest and say I would trade my life circumstances any day and stay in the dark about many things that have been brought to light since the girls went to Heaven ~ unfortunately I don’t get to choose.

I have witnessed the life cycle of my child. I was there when she took her first breath and I arrived, to a scene no one should ever experience, shortly after she took her last.

I remember holding her little hand for the first time, amazed at the fact that my body helped create this little being ~ I knew right then she was going to teach me so much about life.

I, unfortunately, also have the memory of holding Anna’s hand in the funeral home ~ her body no longer breathing life and I knew right then that my girl was also going to teach me so much about what happens when a life, as we know it, ends.

It was there I was enlightened.

It was there that my deep deep suffering was accompanied by a tremendous peace ~ a peace that should not come to a mother experiencing the loss of her children. A peace, that to this day, I sometimes struggle to fully understand.

It was there when I realized that Anna and Abigail were not gone but rather holding us in a blanket of hope. Their physical bodies, the ones we created, were gone but their souls were very much alive.

It was there that I opened my eyes to the gift that God was giving me, the realization that Anna and Abigail were not ours for the keeping but rather His and in opening my heart fully to this He gave me the gift of their eternal presence which I feel daily through my peace.

Last night, as I felt the flutter, I was enlightened once again by the gift of a little soul wrestling around inside of me. Tom and I created the body but God, He placed the soul for us to nurture, care for and love until it’s time for it to go Home.

Home Alone

It’s been a very busy couple of weeks ~ months actually. The Love Rocks Run is behind us, my family has all traveled back to Ohio after a wonderful family vacation in Central Oregon and Tom is back to work.

I’m home alone.

I like being home and I like being alone, but what I don’t like is that my girls aren’t off on a playdate with friends or visiting another parent returning in a few hours to interrupt my quiet time.

I miss their interruptions and today I’m alone and longing for them.

There will never be a day that goes by in this life time that my heart won’t long for them. Somedays my strategies get me through and I can stay focused on the path that is clearly in front of me now~ a path that honors God, celebrates Anna and Abigail’s life, shares love and joy and soon nurturing another child.

Other days, like today, I just want to sit, cry and scream how unfair my life is and how I’m done and I just want my children back.

The past few weeks have been very emotional, and being so busy, I have not had time to really process everything that has happened…from an amazing turnout for the Love Rocks Run, to meeting Abigail’s liver recipient, and his family, for the first time, to spending a week with our extended family and feeling a tremendous void without our girls being there.

Today I’m home alone, processing this life of mine, sitting in my grief and longing for my girls to bust through the door and scream that they are home.