Parenting with PTSD: Surviving the Intense Waves of Grief ~ A PMB Post

Today over at Portland Moms Blog I shared a few minutes of one of my days ~ just one of many I have to live without my girls. This post was very difficult to write but I felt it was important.  With each new day and life experience comes a new wave of grief and at the same time a tremendous amount of gratitude for the ability God has given me to survive the heartache. I miss my girls more and more as each new day passes.

You can find my post here.

My girl in her favorite pink boots!

Anna and her boots

3 thoughts on “Parenting with PTSD: Surviving the Intense Waves of Grief ~ A PMB Post

  1. Anna reminds me so much of our Marla. Those cute little boots and that purse. Our twins are 11 now , as Anna would be, and they makes me think of her, and of Abigail to. I cannot even begin to comprehend your grief. But your posts do snap me out of my own problems and help give strength to get through what I view as hard times. Thanks for sharing.

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  2. I think of you and your family often Susan. The love your family knows and that you’ve shared so much with so many. Every rainbow I see, makes me pause and say a prayer for your family and thank your girls for watching over us from heaven. As my kids get closer to your girls’ ages I become even more amazed at how you’ve become an inspiration and used God’s love to help you through the heartache as it returns time and again. Your love rocks have created another level of healing that stretches farther than anyone could have imagined. I know we’re in the same town and I don’t pop in often but remember, with all of the love you share with those on earth and in heaven. We love you so dearly too! We’ll keep praying for you and sending hugs from afar and in person. Here’s to joy filled dreams and the discovery of new photographs someone has and discovers at just the right moment.

    Love you Susan!

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  3. Susan…your posts are amazing and so heartfelt but also heartbreaking. My mom lost her son, my brother, when Randy was 7 and I was just 5 years old. I often wonder now, being a mom myself, how she survived. I understand now she must’ve had waves of grief also. Thinking of you.

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