Wednesday, December 21, 2011


I've never gone this long without blogging.
I don't know if it is the time of year, a bout with the stomach flu, dealing with Bubba's allergy, or all of the above, but I find so many posts floating through my head these days, and so little time to sit and write them.

I hope the holidays are being kind to you all. I know that for the ALI community in particular, this time of year can feel especially cruel. A reminder of all we should have, that we don't. A big giant slap in the face from the universe.

I recently ordered the book of this, we will not speak, by the incredibly talented Angie M. Yingst (fellow blogger, BLM, and all around cool chickie) and she wrote something in one of her poems that really, really struck a chord with me.

She said:
"Though we have lost a petal, we are still flowers
lush and full together, in a garden of hope."


Even when it feels like there is nothing left in this world worth living for, there is still some measure of hope to be found. Sometimes it is just out of sight, tucked away behind all of your troubles, but hope is there nonetheless, whispering that you can move forward. That things can get better.

When I lost Peyton, this community gave me hope in the knowledge that I didn't have to go through this alone.

When I lost my fertility, this community gave me the hope that I had other options to build my family.

When I started bleeding, and was told to prepare to miscarry my twins, I found hope in the words of comfort and encouragement that came my way. That same hope carried me through nearly seven months of bedrest.

Hope - from all of you.

So now here I stand, on the other side.
I have two healthy children here with me, and though we are missing their big sister (we always, always will) this holiday once again feels joyful.

There were more reasons than I can count (or recall now) beating me down with the message that things were hopeless, but each morning I am greeted with two smiling faces who remind me that even though it felt like it at times, hope was never lost.

There is always hope.

That is my message to all of you reading this. No matter where you are in life, no matter how things feel, or seem, regardless of what you are now facing, there is always hope that things can get better. If not this Christmas, maybe next.

Sending love, light, and above all, hope, to my sisters (and brothers) in loss this holiday season.


I am participating in this year's 25 Days of Giveaways blog hop. Be sure to check back on 12/23.


  1. Thank you for that. I really need help remembering it as I face my first Christmas without my twins, twins that should either have just arrived or be coming in the next three weeks, but who I've instead been mourning since August.

  2. Merry Christmas to you and all three of your babies. I hope that your home is filled with God's peace, love and joy this Christmas.

  3. I so agree. There is always hope even if it is very small.

  4. What a beautiful post!!! There is always hope and Jesus when there is nothing else!!! Hope you and your family have a Merry Christmas!!!

  5. What beautiful words. Wishing you peace and joy and hope too, this Christmas, with your beautiful twins and Peyton in your heart.

  6. Well, I just loved this post.
    One guess why...

  7. Hope is what keeps us rolling... Hope is what keeps us grounded.. hope is what keeps us close to our children in heaven. Brandy

  8. Beautiful and, very true words. There is always "hope." One can get through even the longest winter, if one tries to keep in mind that spring and summer always have to return eventually.

  9. Thank you for this beautiful post. I sent it to my cousin who recently lost her first child, a son called Jack, to full term stillbirth. Glad you can enjoy this holiday season with your new bundles of joy. Hugs, Anna

  10. Merry Christmas to you all.This is my first Christmas without my son, we expected things to be so different. Your post meant alot and i will keep this hope with me x x x

  11. Thank you for this. We just lost our first daughter, who was stillborn on November 20. Even though this is the hardest, most painful thing I have ever had to do, I can't help but have hope. I'm glad that I'm not alone.

  12. Agreed. There is always hope. "And if not this Christmas, maybe next."

    Merry Christmas to you Kristin. I am so with you on this post. I did not think I would ever enjoy another Christmas... but this year was different. There is hope. xx