Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Full and Whole with Broken and Missing Pieces

I woke up this morning from a dream. I was lying on my back in the ocean listening for my girls and all I heard was silence. I was in the water looking up at the sky. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face and the sea was calm and quiet. I was content except for the silence. I kept listening hard, closing my eyes to listen, but heard nothing. Then I woke up.

When I opened my eyes I put my hand on my aching heart.

I wish you were here sweet girls. I wish I could hear your voices.

These are the confessions I make daily. These are the things I release so I can grieve them and find peace. When the longings grip me I give them a voice, even if that voice is one only my heart can hear, so healing can replace the longing and I can go on living the best life I can.

I wish I had more time with you.

I wish I could watch you grow and see who you would have become.

I wish I had your artwork on the refrigerator. 

I wish I could give you kisses and hugs.

I wish…

I wish …

I wish…

Every morning another wish.

Every morning another choice to heal.

Every morning another conversation with God to give me the strength to press on until everything gets put right again and for comfort in the meantime. This life isn’t all there is and thank God for that, but I still need hope and hugs and a way through because the pain isn’t less real just because Heaven is real.

When I put my hands over my heart I can feel the empty space inside, the two little Aubrey and Ellie shaped holes that remain since their deathes. I feel their absence, even in my dreams, when I listen for them and hear nothing except my own breath.

I have not filled these spaces and I never will, yet I live with a full heart. This is how I know I’m healing. I have fullness despite the empty spaces, wholeness despite what is missing, and peace despite longing. This duality is what makes healing from grief possible.

Joy and sadness can coexist.

From ashes can incense rise.

Healing is not the result of undoing all the pain but choosing how to respond to it. Your circumstances don’t have to change for our heart to find the healing it desperately seeks. We can choose fullness without having every nook and cranny filled; we can choose wholeness without every piece of the puzzle.

The human heart is remarkably fragile but also immeasurably resilient. And resilience is our choice, not our luck. Broken hearts still beat. Hearts with holes and dents and scars beat powerfully. My heart is stronger than it has ever been. And I wear it proudly on my sleeve, holes and all, because, honestly, it is a miracle.  It isn’t a gaping, hemorrhaging wound anymore. It is an always healing, ever-stronger, honest badge of the choice I made to heal. As long as my heart still beats I’m seeing my healing to the end without guilt or apology.

When my hand goes over my heart in the morning and I give my never-coming-true wishes a voice, my heart keeps beating. It doesn’t die with the pain. It beats again and again and again, stronger each time. It’s another chance and another and another to get up and live full and whole with broken and missing pieces.

That is my choice. Morning after morning. Day after day. Night after night.





I choose life, abundant life, with every beat of my less than whole, missing a few pieces heart.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Heal by Choice Retreats

 A few of you may already know that recently I started Heal by Choice, an organization dedicated to helping people find healing from grief and loss of all kinds. As the mother of two sweet baby girls in heaven, I am well acquainted with grief. I am also grateful to be able to sincerely say I am well acquainted with healing too.

Healing is possible if you choose it. I'm the living proof.

My last six years of healing have not been walked out in a straight line though. The healing that has taken place in my heart, which can not be understated given the depth of my sorrow, follows a line that looks like a mutual fund graph before the recession.  It is full of peaks and valleys inching ever higher slowly but surely.

It started out pretty rough for me. I'm an intense personality anyway so I approached my grief like I do most everything in life- ALL IN. Then I got so emotionally exhausted I bailed. ALL OUT is where I stayed for a while until I learned how to resolve my grief. Before understanding what resolving grief meant I was trying to beat my grief into submission. I hated my pain and I just wanted it to stop. I now know that resolution is the only thing that cultivates lasting relief. Discovering how to make emotionally complete what has been left incomplete changed my healing journey. It can change yours too.

I didn't just give it time. I used time and invested wisely into my heart so that I'd reap real healing, not just temporary relief.  My healing is not yet complete, fragments of my grief still rise to the surface and have to be resolved, but that doesn't make the healing I've experience thus far any less real. I'd like to think of my heart as a work in progress. All our hearts are a work in progress. That is what being human is about.

The problem is, healing, although ALWAYS POSSIBLE, can be difficult, confusing, and lonely. I feel like I've learned a lot the hard way and want to, if at all possible, help others avoid the Grief School of Hard Knocks I attended on my healing journey.

That is why I founded Heal By Choice. I want to help. I want to be a clear voice in the murky pain that is grief. I want to be a supportive and tender ally. I want to offer true, practical advice that cultivates deep and lasting heart-healing. I want to stand against the myths, misinformation, wallowing, stagnation, entrapment, and peer pressure that occurs in the grief support communities we seek for help and find little if any. I want to be a gentle teacher to a society that doesn't understand grief and lead by compassionate example to foster change. I want to wear my own healing heart on my sleeve for all the world to see and not be ashamed to choose healing today and everyday for the rest of my life.

Heal By Choice is taking shape a little more everyday. I've been working hard developing workshops, ebooks, videos, curriculum, and resources that support real healing and it's all generating positive feedback.

That is why I am so excited to announce Heal By Choice Retreat!

Heal by Choice's inaugural retreat will take place November 6th-9th, 2014 in the beautiful Santa Ynez Valley of California. It is an intimate healing retreat for women seeking care and comfort for their hearts after the death of a child.  Heal By Choice Retreat is a safe place to share your story, connect with other women, and learn valuable tools and insights you can use for a lifetime to not just survive, but thrive, after a child dies.

This four day, three night all-inclusive retreat combines grief recovery workshops, daily yoga, trail walks, and a Teamotions tea tasting with healthy meals, special guests, and friendships to support your healing journey.

The Heal by Choice Retreat will be led by me and Crystal Tenpenny of Teamotions with special guests Carrie Pascual of The STILL Project and singer and songwriter Alisa Turner.

I've also decided to pour my  heart into not just one, but a series of healing retreats that focus on learning the skills and tools necessary to recover from grief and loss of all kinds. Grief is a part of life, but unfortunately most of us have not been taught the skills necessary to resolve grief and find healing.  This is not something we should be ashamed of but proactive about. Let's learn how to tend to our hearts, build supportive relationships, and foster hope and healing that lasts. Let's refuse to believe that some things are impossible to get over. Let's choose healing and change our own lives!

Please visit my website www.HealByChoice.com or www.HealByChoiceRetreat.com to learn more (and watch our short video while you are there!).  If you'd like to continue to receive information about this or future Heal By Choice retreats please join our Heal By Choice Retreat email list HERE.  Also, I invite you to like my Facebook pages Heal by Choice and Teamotions as well as the facebook pages of STILL Project and Alisa Turner.

Thank you again for beginning yet another new journey with me!

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Putting My Vocal Dukes Up

This time of year is always intensely introspective for me. My girls died the first week of July in 2008. Ellie on the first and Aubrey on the 7th. It was the hardest week of my life. I remember going to a Fourth of July celebration for the sake of my son who, at the time, was two and a half. We wanted him to see the fireworks and have some semblance of normalcy despite the hellish reality we were living at the time. I remember not wanting to go at all. I was afraid I’d burst into tears in front of strangers and I was still recovering from my C-section. I sat in the car pumping my milk and grieving my sweet Ellie while my other precious baby was confined to the NICU.  And by the look on my little son’s face we were not fooling him with fireworks. It was the worst Fourth of July ever.

Six years later this Fourth of July was fantastic: a parade in the morning, swimming all day, and a fantastic fireworks show after dark spent entirely with family. I thought about my girls as I always do, how it would be fun to have them with us, two blondies waving little American flags and swimming all day in Nana and Grandad’s pool. I always feel their absence. I've come to accept that it is simply a part of my life now and I’m even able to smile when I daydream about them.  My heart doesn't hurt like it once did and I’m thankful for that. It feels good to be full-hearted again even with pieces missing.

It does make me sad though that this community is so steeped in stagnant grief. Worse yet, there are many in this community that proclaim not-healing as a perfectly acceptable reality. Since the saddening An Open Letter to Those Who Use Lying Language  post on the MISS Foundation blog by Dr. Joanne Cattiatore I've found myself more vocal than ever with my stance on hope and healing.  It compelled me to put up my vocal dukes so to speak and make my disagreement known, not for my sake, but for the sake of all the broken, hurting hearts.

So here is what I have to say: Any person, doctor or otherwise, who refers to the death of her child as a sentence of suffering is not someone I will listen to, ever. Although I respect her freedom to feel how she wants about her daughter’s death, I will not now nor ever let her speak on behalf of my children or my experience. I’ll speak for them and myself, thank you very much, and she can take her lying words and STOP IT. NOW. Her words do not tell my story either. I am neither unsophisticated nor uncomfortable to firmly disagree with her condescending limited perspective. Her experience is not truth. The death of a child is NOT a sentence of suffering. It is statements like this from influential lips that fall onto vulnerable ears that are the real fraudulent language that confuses an entire community into becoming trapped in their pain because some entitled doctor wants to put a so-called ignorant society in its place. I’m sorry but I can’t stand by and allow this to go unchallenged a minute longer.

I will not be ashamed to heal nor shame others for healing. I will spend my life helping others find healing if they want it.

I will not be intimidated nor manipulated by others using bereavement to bully and project the chip on their shoulder onto me.  

I will not make it society’s job to make my healing or my hurting easier. I will not pretend that others have an obligation to fix me. I will take responsibility for my own heart always.

I will not allow anyone else to speak on behalf of my children that died without my permission, EVER.


Healing is possible after the death of a child. Healing is possible after any loss for that matter. A broken heart is not permanent if you don’t want it to be. This isn’t my opinion either. It is the truth. How do I know it is the truth? I know because healing is a choice, not a happenstance. Healing doesn't befall us randomly like tragedy can.

The healing of our heart is ultimately up to us and nothing, not even the death of our precious babies and a misunderstanding society, can steal from us our freedom to choose how we will tend to our heart in the face of tragedy and pain. The state of our hearts is our responsibility, our choice, always. Not even the death of a child can override the power we have over our own heart.

It isn't our family’s responsibility to heal us nor our spouse’s. It isn't society’s either. And not healing, although an option as we can choose not to heal as freely as we can choose to heal, is even more tragic than the death itself.  

I personally have experienced true healing and not because I’m just lucky or because I must not have loved my girls as much as you love the baby you miss so much. I have healing because I gave myself permission to choose it standing over the tiny grave of two little girls I’d have given anything to get back. It hasn’t been an easy journey but a worthwhile one absolutely. I shook off the chains of my impending sentence of suffering with obstinate refusal to let the sweet little girls I love only be remembered in the pain of their death. I suffered for a time yes, but there are no chains on me. I am free and I use my freedom to honor them in my healing. Unashamed. Unapologetic. Undeterred.

It has become my life’s calling to make it known to all aching hearts that healing is always possible. It is possible to find healing after the loss of a child. And not just for me. For everyone. I know what I wrote is bold and it won’t land well on everyone, but sometimes it is the uncomfortable things that propel us forward toward things we once thought unreachable. Sometimes the death of a child leaves us feeling that healing is unreachable, but it isn’t. And someone had to say it.

The truth is a parent can find healing and live full-heartedly after the death of a child. Anyone who says differently is lying, confused, or has lost hope. And the death of a child is not more or less traumatic than other death or tragedy.  All hurting hearts can find healing.

Tomorrow I will celebrate the 6th anniversary of my Aubrey’s death. I will cry, I always do, and take flowers to her and set them alongside her headstone. I’ll talk to her and miss her and wonder about the little girl that touched my heart so profoundly in just 13 days. I will continue to long for her as I’ll never get “used to” not having her here but my life isn’t empty without her. My heart is full because I've chosen to fill it. My girls have not been replaced nor forgotten, but I have nothing to prove with pain. I am healing. Every day, I’m healing.

If healing seems impossible to you or you feel confused on how to even begin, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I can help you get the support and tools you need to choose healing and guide you in making a plan. Healing is possible for everyone no matter what, but we can’t do it on our own. Supportive relationships, effective tools, and a plan create a foundation for heart healing. I’m here to help you walk your own healing journey to restore full-hearted living.  

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Still Missing My Ellie Six Years Later

There is something both sad and beautiful about posting through tears. It is a familiar circumstance for me trying to type with tears filling my eyes and streaming down my face. The tears are as comforting as they are painful. Each one reminds me of just how much love and longing I have for my sweet little girl, even after all this time.

I don't have to close my eyes to see her little face in my mind. It is always there. I remember how her skin felt and how tiny she was in my hands. I only held her once. She died in my arms. It was the first and last time I felt her warmth and watched her chest moving up and down.

My time with her before the end was spent peering through the incubator glass wanting to reach in, scoop her up, and make a run for it. I wanted to hold her close, to be as near to her as possible, to comfort her and make her well, but the glass and the harsh reality of her sick little body never let me as close as I wanted to be.

I studied her for hours so I would remember her. I was so curious about her. I watched her personality emerge despite her fragile state and admired her loveliness and poise. What a sweetheart my Ellie. My beautiful little Ellie.

She left us after seven days. Seven scary, hopeful, sad, confusing, precious, frozen in time days.

Six years later it is every bit as fresh.

I miss you sweet girl. Everyday, I miss you. Wait for me. I'll come to you one day.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Keynote Speech

MISS Remembrance Walk Key Note Speech May 2014

Last night I made myself a cup of tea after I put my boys to bed. As I waited for my tea to steep I just stood there for a few minutes, thinking, and enjoying a moment of peace and quiet with the movie Return to Zero on in the back ground.

I’ve been privileged to see the movie three times before it premiered worldwide last night so I can almost say I know it by heart.

In a way we all know it by heart. The movie has done us all an amazing favor by showing the world that babies do sadly die and when they do they leave a story for us to tell on their behalf. We have been granted the rare privilege to be the story teller of our baby’s life.

Unfortunately it doesn’t always feel like a privilege. This beautiful honor comes at a soul crushing cost we’ve all lamented to pay.

Yet we all woke up this morning and came here because we want to have a voice. We want to speak for our precious little ones who cannot speak from themselves. We want to make clear that their lives matter, their existence changed everything for us, and their death not only broke our heart but robbed the world of someone truly special.

We want our babies counted. We want them remembered.

There is no manual however to guide us in telling our babies’ story. People ask me all the time for ideas about ways to memorialize their babies and they are always curious to know want I’ve done. 
In 2011 my sister and I started Teamotions- a revolutionary tea company with an out-of-the-box approach to emotional care and healing.

Grieving and struggling to cope after the deaths of my sweet girls, I found solace in tea. You would rarely see me without a cup of tea in my hand. One day my sister was visiting me and said, “I wish there was something I could put in your tea to make you feel better.” Knowing nothing like that existed, we set out to create it.

Our line of teas was created to support the full spectrum of emotions, offering comfort and healing to the hurting.

We use scientifically supported adaptogen herbs, tea, and botanicals in each blend to help boost immunity, improve the body's response to stress, and restore well-being in every way.

Teamotions was originally intended to be a line of grief-care teas formulated around the emotions often experienced when grieving. However, we quickly realized those emotions are not limited to grieving. Understanding that everyone experiences these emotions we put our whole hearts into developing a line of teas that would bring comfort to all.

Teamotions is so much more than a tea company. It is the legacy of my sweet baby daughters and the platform of which I tell their story. It is also the tangible representation of my passion to help others heal and my commitment to walk along side those who are hurting.

But the truth is you don’t need to have tea company, start a foundation, or even make a movie to tell your baby’s story in a remarkable way.  The best way to honor your child is by the healing of your own heart.

Our love for our child is not measured by our misery. Sadness does not preserve their memory. Our babies did not exist to place a sentence of suffering upon us. They came as a precious gifts. Beautiful examples of life and unconditional love.

I chose healing because I know nothing else I do could ever honor my sweet babies more.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. On the contrary. Healing means remembering-remembering that love this deep may cause unfathomable pain but it also makes a depth of joy possible that non-sufferers could never know.

Our lives are richer for knowing true loss. Compassion overflows in us. Gratitude abounds. Superficiality melts away. And what our babies leave behind is not a permanent prison of pain but the opportunity to embrace fully the beauty and meaning of their lives.  

We must chose healing every day. We must fight for it. We must embrace it. We must find our strength and find our voice –we must never be ashamed to heal

Why? Because it honors our beautiful babies.

We have a precious responsibility that starts with our own hearts. Give yourself permission to heal. Grant yourself the voice your baby deserves 

We are the tellers of their story and only our voice will do.

If you are struggling today believing that healing is possible for you please seek me out. I would love to encourage you.

Healing is possible after the death of a child. Dig Deep. Find your voice. Tell your story. 

And never ever lose hope. 
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