FEATURE ARTICLE:
By: Marie Kriedman In the immediate days following the miscarriage of our daughter, my husband and I were in a minefield of grief. We were in shock, still trying to understand how our life had taken such a turn, and we felt deeply overwhelmed. We needed a breather from caring for our children, so we stepped outside for a quick break. The weather matched our mood. The sky was black, and a storm was blowing in quickly. And amazingly, unfathomably, there was one solitary pink cloud…
Read MoreNEWS ARCHIVE:
Milestones
By: Rebecca Stockwell A close friend had a baby a few weeks before my son was born. We live a few hours from each other,…
The Little Yellow Butterfly
By: Casey Zenner One of the greatest things about being a parent is watching the bond your children have grow over the years. When you…
Seasons of Love
By: Nikki Grayson The deep green and blue ocean waters rise and fall before me. The deep blue horizon looks to be a million miles…
Longing for the Hyphen
My son’s short life reminds me to use my hyphen well, to live life to the fullest.
Sailing
By: Ann-Marie Ferry Twenty-five feet of crystal-clear water rolled between the pier where I stood and the smooth, colorful boulders on the lake floor. I…
An Artistic Walk Through Grief
By: Ann-Marie Ferry The suddenness of grief is disorienting. It leaves us grappling for a way, a path to walk. We as bereaved parents had…
Signs From Asher
By: Amy Lied In preparation for this month’s article on signs that we’ve received from our child, I went back and read a post I…
Listening To the Voices of Bereaved Fathers
By: Ann-Marie Ferry Fathers often get the short end of the stick when it comes to grief support. It should not be. However, for a…
Full and Broken
By: Ann-Marie Ferry My heart is full and broken. I am sitting in my quiet living room as a sweet little 11-week-old girl sleeps on…