Ever since we lost her, purple flowers pop up in our path everywhere we go. We hold them as a symbol of her and our friends and family share purple flower photos and videos too.

These women spoke my innermost thoughts, they normalized ALL of the things happening to and around me. I listened to their stories and grieved with them. I realized these were bravest, most compassionate, loving mothers.

I had to come to terms with the fact that bad things happen in this imperfect world where death and darkness exist. Joshua’s death was not caused by any “mistake or choice” I made. I eventually came to accept this.

My love will wrap around you like a warm blanket little love. And with that love, I’ll shield you with a golden aura of protection to keep you safe. To deflect any harm or negativity.

If I could speak to the young loss mom—the younger me—the woman in the prime of her 20s ambitious and eager to make a mark in the world, ready to take on motherhood to only be plowed by feelings of failure and misery, I would like to share these gentle words with her now—and you too—of what I know and have learned for sure, thus far, on my grief journey.

I chose to do something different from my first encounter with pregnancy loss. I wouldn’t isolate, hide, bury, put up a front, smile. I would honor every single feeling that arose, as it did in real time… And in doing so, I was writing a new story. This was new for me.

Despite feeling like a complete failure because I was unable to protect him, I focused on how I could use my experience to be the voice for change.

I couldn’t imagine that my life would one day be filled with laughter, joy, and love again; but it is. Of course, there are also challenges, tears, and pain. All these can coexist in one heart. My heart is filled with love, grief, joy and hope.

I needed a way to say goodbye, not only to the life that had been growing in me, but also to the due date, the list of names, the future I had already started to paint.

We can’t choose how long it takes to win any given battle with grief, but we can choose whether we’ll keep fighting for the life we want to live, or whether we’ll settle into our misery. We can turn with courage toward healing, or we can turn our backs on it.

"I was experiencing the grief of losing my mom and then I started experiencing the grief of losing my pregnancy.”

The present and future are mine to create, and while I’m still finding my way, I see such calm in the skies, and that helps me feel whole.

My child, once torn from me,
Seems close.
I feel her.
She is mine,
I am her mother.

We have been blessed to be able to make connections with other friends and local families that have experienced losses as well. The network and support of their experiences connects us in a family bond that is hard to describe.

I was only prepared to expect the future with my babies, not expecting the reality of losing them both.

I’m here now without her, but I still carry her with me. All of the plans we made are unfolding, and instead of her being in my arms, she’s brought along in my mind.

And then there's grief itself which feels a lot like standing with your back to the ocean. You’re never sure when a wave will hit or how big it will be.

Parenting your dead child is like painting by numbers but there are no numbers to paint by… All the rules and directions have been lost. How does one know what color comes next?

There is a light flickering somewhere inside of every bereaved mother, even on the darkest days, that is fueled by faint pieces of who we are. That light may be dim, but it can shine brightly again.

Once you are able to take some deeper breaths, you may notice life isn’t moving past you so much, but life is beginning to move in you. In a new way. No, nothing will ever be the same, nor after your loss would you want it to be.