March 5, 2023

I didn’t really have a clever title for this post, but this date has been circling in my head since I realized what it meant.

Seven years ago, I had no idea that the little baby inside of me was going to die the next month. I had no idea that I could be a grieving mother. Never in a million years did I ever think my boy would just be gone. I looked forward to being his mom and watching him grow and just having him with me always.

After he was born… I can remember dreading the fifth of every month. It only marked another month without him. In someways it always will, but with time, the reminder of time has lessened.

Until today, when it felt like all the 5ths of the past few years weighed down, heavily, on my chest.

I wish I had the right description word to even try to explain how I feel. There’s just really none that even come close. It hurts and I know it always will. I walk around with this giant Jensen sized hole in my heart. Mila does too. She misses her brother that she never met, but they still have this crazy connection. She says he’s the moon and sometimes I believe her.

He’s like the moon in some ways, always watching over us, there even when we can’t see him, and always the light when there’s darkness around.

The gravity of seven years pushes and pulls me the way the moon does to the tide.

My heart will always be broken from losing him. There will never be a day I don’t think about him. He will always be the best thing that’s ever happened to me and his death, the worst.

I never thought I would make it this far after losing him. The pain, heartache, and knowledge that he’s never coming back is just so much for a person to handle. I knew it’d never ‘get better’ or I’d be completely healed or having another child would make it ok. There is just no way to prepare for knowing your child has died and you have to pretend to be normal every day after that.

In less than a month, he’ll be seven. I wish I could know what he’d want his birthday party to be like or who his friends would be. I’d love to know his favorite activities or if he’d have a cereal obsession like Mila. As much as I complain about the laundry, I wish I could fold his clothes and wash the extra dishes. I wonder what show he’d want me to put on or see if he’d compromise to watch what Mila wanted to watch instead.

Then there’s the even smaller things – like when would he have lost his first tooth and what would his smile look like with teeth missing. How would he walk and what would his footsteps sound like? I want to know everything about him and how he would be now with all our memories, but it’s possible.

This is what March 5, 2023 is like for me. It’s sad and isolating and a lot of me pretending to be what I need to be for the people around me.

As I sit here typing and crying and just imagining, I know I’m doing what I need to be doing as Jensen’s mom. He wouldn’t want me to be sad, but this is part of loving and honoring him. This is what it’s like to be a grieving mother who’s son’s birthday is a month away.

And one more thing… love never dies. No matter how much times has passed and even though that pain is still there, not once have I questioned the love I have for my Jensen.

A piece of my heart is perpetually in 2016.
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Clouded Memories.

This popped up on my Facebook memories this week:

It’s Mila from three years ago. She wasn’t even a year old yet and she had already mastered the orneriest smile. At the same time, she could look right in your eyes and it felt like she could read all of your thoughts. There was so much going on in her head at such a young age — and if you are around her now, you’d still agree to that.

Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these blogs. Something that I need to talk about, but pushing it in the back of my head. I keep working on different things, but anytime I go to write anything else, this wants to get out first.

I have a hard time looking at my memories from early 2019. Even when it’s this beautiful little face smiling on my screen, I get a knot in my stomach.

Seriously, there were two before this that almost made me throw up.

During this time, I was fighting so many mental battles after all the nasty things he (her whatever you want to call him) had said about me and her. I was in such a cloud of anger and heartbreak, I know I missed so many small moments during this time of Mila’s life. Even though I was there every single day, the mental take over that was going on clouded what was going on right in front of me.

I’ll never forget when he asked why I sent a picture to him because, “she means nothing to me.” This wasn’t a normal response, it was to hurt me. Now, it hurts to see those pictures and think someone could ever say that about a child, my child. After that, I stopped sharing her with him.

Instead, I shared her with all of you.

I’m unsure if I needed the validation of someone else seeing her the way I did or what was going on there. She deserves to be shared. I know she’s always been important and just… Mila. She’s always loved her picture taken and asks me to do it now. Some part of me wonders if it was rooted during this time in our lives though.

Still… these memories are hard for me. My brain still blocks a lot of this time out. A mix of postpartum depression, grief from Jensen, and heartbreak tugs at my heart in all of them.

The hardest part is knowing I should have been a better mom at this time. I had to take care of myself and she deserved a happy mom. Like in other moments of my life, I wish I could go back and just take over for me. I would go back and birth Jensen for that Danielle and I would go back and take over for 2019 Danielle too.

I just see those pictures and wish I would have soaked them up more. Instead, I knew I had to snap those pictures, even if they brought up bad memories. I had to be able to look back at her toothy smile, those waves hello, and the chunky leg rolls. Believe me, I’m so happy I did and that Facebook has me see them every year.

One day I’ll be able to look back at all those moments and not be clouded by the hurt I felt while taking them. Every day I’m healing through so much trauma I face in such a short time. It takes time. One day I won’t skip over them or remember those hurtful words.

Today I get to say thank you for everyone that let me share her with them. You don’t know how much that helped save me. I am so thankful that Mila is surrounded by love and support from so many people. When she gets older, she’ll know her impact in our little space. Hopefully she decides to keep spreading the love that shines every time she smiles.

I also get to make a promise to myself. I promise to keep healing and to give myself grace. If I would have known better, I would have done better. Every day I try to keep bettering myself and realizing that smile isn’t so toothy, those waves are getting shorter, and the chunky legs aren’t so chunky anymore. Even when being a mom is hard, I try to remember that I’m still learning and growing just like Mila. Instead of taking in all the negative emotions and feelings, I promise to have a positive outlook on our life and always look back at this time as magical.

Deep down, I know I’ll be able to look back at those pictures and remember all the good emotions and things first. Because even though I had to take care of me, I’ve always been a good mom.


To every mom going through a trying or difficult time, you will make it through this. I promise you just have to keep holding on. There are so many people rooting for you.

DIY Thanksgiving Gratitude Sign

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! This year, I’m trying to start a new tradition with my family: a DIY Thanksgiving Gratitude Sign.

Since there’s been so many events, people, and things in general that have happened in our family, I thought it’d be special for everyone to write it all out. It’ll be a snapshot of gratitude.

Who doesn’t need a little dose of that?

Like this year’s Christmas Bucket List, our DIY Gratitude Sign only uses craft paper and markers. To make it a little more special, I used some left overs fall elements from a centerpiece.

Then, just add tape to the back and it’s ready to go.

I added the first three items to the list: family, health, and laughter.

After looking at it, I decided to add my name to the sign too. Hopefully all my family will so we can all see what everyone says.

I think this will be a beautiful tradition for my family. It’s something I want to do with Mila as she gets older. Even if she’s not in a positive space, I want her to know that I’m always thankful for her. Plus, sometimes the things you’re most thankful for are ‘small.’

This simple and easy to make gratitude sign will make a big impact on Thanksgiving Day.


I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving and holds their loved ones close this year and for as long as they can.

With that, I know so many people grieving through the holidays. They are so hard. I miss Jensen everyday and am so thankful that he was in my life. No matter if you can’t think of anything else to be thankful for, I know a name can be powerful. Write and say your loved ones names.

I know anytime I hear Jensen’s name, I’m so thankful others are thinking of him. I’ll never be able to thank him and Mila for choosing me to be their mom.

How do you talk about gratitude during the holidays? Do you have a tradition like this? Let me know in the comments.

A Letter to My Son, Who Died, on National Son’s Day.

Dear Jensen,

It’s National Sons Day and parents are posting pictures of their favorite little guys.

When I see everyone’s post, I smile because every child is so special and worthy of being shared. They’re proud of their sons and when it was National Daughter’s Day, they were all proud of their daughters too. Just like I was when I posted Mila’s picture.

On that day, I paused and thought about all the grieving moms and dads whose daughters died. I know that sting of seeing other kids grow.

It helped me prep myself for this day, because I wish I had pictures of you at five.

Instead, I get to post my favorite pictures of you when you were born. It’s my day to share how proud I am of my son, of you. I get to talk about how you made me a mom and how even though you’re not here with me, I get to love you more and more every day.

You and Mila both know that every day in our home is kid’s day. In different ways, you and Mila are the focus of everything I do.

I still get to buy the ‘boy’ things and Mila brings them to your bear. She still talks to you all the time at home. Sometimes she even talks for you, with her deep Jensen voice. It always feels like you’re right there with us and I know you’re there. Just as much as Mila is celebrated, you are too, my sweet boy.

On this Son’s Day and all the future ones, I want you to know that you are never forgotten and that I’m so proud to be your mom.

You were the one to teach me how to love unconditionally and to show me the meaning of life.

I love you and miss you always.

Love,
Your Mom

The Forgotten Kindergartener.

It’s back to school time.

Backpacks are filled up. Kids are excited to meet their new teachers and see their friends. Parents are watching their kids grow and learn. The elementary schools are getting a new group of students: kindergarteners.

They’re giddy and so cute. Moms and dads are snapping pictures with their kids walking into their school, in front of the door, or the school sign. It’s how it’s supposed to be.

Kindergarten teachers see their classroom fill up. Every desk is filled. They start to remember their students’ names and smiling faces. A huge classroom full of kindergarteners exactly where they’re expected, needed, and wanted.

But, I have the forgotten kindergartener.

There wasn’t a school list sent out to me. I didn’t get to prepare him to be away from me all day. No first day of school pictures or the last hug goodbye. There will never be ay more growth or learning or anything.

We don’t get to meet his teacher or have them remember his name or smiling face. He won’t get to run to my car in the pickup line and tell me all about his day.

He won’t wake up the next day and join his new friends for day two, three, or ever.

Because I have the forgotten kindergartener that I’ll always remember.

As much as I’m happy to see all the smiling back to school pictures this year, I’m really sad the one little boy’s pictures I want to see won’t be there. I’ll never get to see his smiling face or hear him talk.

Every day I know this fact, but it’s days like what was supposed to be his first day of kindergarten that it just hits a little harder.

Child loss and the grief that comes along does not just go away with time. You get stronger as a person, but it still is the most pain I’ve ever felt. Especially when you remember all that they should be and what you wanted for them.

Even though I didn’t really know how much I’d feel before Jensen’s first day of school, Mila and I did some positive things in his name.

We actually got the kindergarten supply list. A few days ago, we went out and bought what was on the list to donate a backpack. Mila helped pick out the different supplies and knew we were donating them for Jensen because some other little boy might need those supplies.

I packed them up with care, with Mila’s help and we went on our way to donate the backpack.

As hard and sad as it was, I’m always thankful to do things to honor Jensen and his life. This is definitely one that I hope to be able to do every year for him.

No matter what or how many years it’s been… I’ll always remember my baby boy.

My Response to My Daughter Being an ‘Only Child.’

Grief is an ever-changing entity in my life.

Since losing Jensen, I’ve heard the wildest things in efforts to help me ‘get over’ his loss. Now since Mila is three, it’s evolved.

I’ve not been shy in talking about how things can come off as rude or intruding. Honestly, I don’t think that anyone means to come off that way. They mean to be helpful, but it’s just not.

Anytime anyone mentions me having one child, I always let them know “I have two.”

Here’s what I wish I could say…

“Don’t you want more kids so she’s not an only child?”

I have more kids. He just died.

She’ll never, ever be an only child because one came before her. I’m fact, Jensen will always be her big brother. Not even death can take that away from her, him, or me.

If you have a conversation with Mila, she’ll tell you who her big brother is. She’ll let you know he lives in her heart and she loves him.

When we have guests, she shows his pictures off and wants everyone to hold Jensen bear.

She is definitely NOT an only child.

“It has to be lonely for her not having a brother or sister?”

Just because her brother isn’t physically here, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a relationship with him. She talks to his pictures and bear. When I hold his bear for too long, she gets jealous. She misses him dearly and always wants us to read his book. Her relationship with him is beautiful.

Mila also has an amazing set of kids she’s with all the time. Friends and cousins love her and play with her whenever she asks. She is in dance classes and will be starting preschool too.

She’s not lonely.

“Don’t you want to give her another sibling?”

She has a sibling.

My daughter grieves her brother. She wishes he was here and could come to our house all the time. We talk about him because he’s a part of our family. Our family just looks different than most.

If she were to have another sibling, it wouldn’t take away that she misses Jensen. Just like how no other child could fill his spot for me.

When she talks about missing Jensen, Mila has never asked to have another sibling.

She already has one.

One other thing… don’t ask intrusive questions about private lives. If you were supposed to know what was going on, you would.

It’s rude to assume that everyone can have a child easily. For a lot of people, it’s not.

Some people are healing from abuse.

Some just like their family unit just the way it is.

My Everlasting Flowers.

I always dreamed of Jensen picking flowers for me. We’d have a house filled with dandelion and wildflower jars.

Although I do have a house like that now, it’s not from Jensen. Mila brings as much love as she does flowers into our house. Our life is happy, but we will always be missing a piece.

For a long time, I’ve wondered how I could get the dream of flowers from Jensen. Then I got a random tattoo.

After that tattoo, I talked to the tattoo artist about Jensen and how I’d love a bouquet of forget-me-not flowers on me. I wanted to always carry them, just like how he always walks with me.

So, we scheduled another tattoo session.

In a couple hours, I have my flowers picked by my Jensen. Every time I see blue forget-me-nots, I think of him. Now when I look at my arm, I think of him and the countless amounts of flowers he’ll have for me.

It felt a little radical to get a tattoo on my forearm that can always be seen, but I love it.

He and these flowers are a part of our story.

Most of my tattoos are in remembrance of Jensen. I love knowing that even though he’s not physically with us, I can always see him in my body. No matter if it’s on my foot, wrist, or arm, I can always catch a glimpse of him.

By the way, Mila likes this tattoo way more than the one on my ankle. She loves counting them and telling me how blue is for her brother.

What’s your favorite tattoo that you have? Or if you don’t have one, what would you get if you did?

Motherhood freed me.

Last month, I saw a post by Avery’s Garden asking for submissions of creative grief. The prompt was, “What does motherhood look like to you?”

For me, motherhood has been complicated and full of ups and downs.

In the beginning, I was stripped away from physically mothering Jensen. I will never be able to fully explain that pain and how it will always linger. I’ve tried hundreds of time, but there are no words.

As the months and years have went past, my motherhood has evolved.

I have Mila and we remember Jensen each day. With the two of them, I parent and honor them so different. I’ve changed the way I look at my motherhood too.

Here’s how I see my motherhood this year…

Through the grief and nakedness
of losing the biggest part of me,
planted a seed.

Out of that pain and emptiness
came all the growth and beauty.
Motherhood freed me.

I’m definitely not an artist, but I enjoyed painting and creating. When I look at this piece, I think of how far I’ve come and how much love I give every day.

Motherhood isn’t a pretty thing. It’s hard and is never perfect. Somehow through it all, it’s freed me.

I couldn’t imagine a life without them. Everyday I’m glad they chose me to be their mom.

Jensen is FIVE.

I always need a few days after Jensen’s birthday to collect all my thoughts.

Five feels really big. He should be half a decade old. That realization is hard to wrap my mind around. Then I remember, I have to live the rest of my life without him. It’s a mix of seeing Mila grow older and knowing five holds so much that really brought me to a dark space this year.

Not that every year isn’t hard because having your child die really sucks.

Anyways, Jensen’s actual birthday was everything it needed to be. We still celebrate his birthday and I probably always will.

This year, I wanted to do an activity a five-year-old would love to do. So, we went to the zoo.

I want to go over how much we loved the Cleveland Zoo in a future post, but it was a huge part of Jensen’s fifth birthday. It would be silly not to share the highlights of the day.

My favorite part of going to the zoo was that all the animals were out. Since it was a cooler day, they were playing and being active. The big cats were all out and not napping. Even the bears were out of their caves and showing off.

Honestly, I thought of Jensen’s birthday eve book. We read On the Night You Were Born by Nancy Tillman. In the book, the animals were all dancing the night the baby was born. It felt like the animals were out at the zoo for Jensen. I know that sounds silly, but those little connections are my only ones to him.

As with anything during child loss, I also wondered what animal Jensen would like seeing the most at the zoo. At five, he’d definitely have a favorite. Part of me felt like he’d have liked the red pandas the most. I wonder if he’d want his face painted too. Just those little things that constantly pop up.

I’ve finally realized it’s okay to have those sad moments in a happy day. Grief and happiness coexist in the strangest way, especially on their birthdays.

Of course we had dippin’ dots at the zoo!

After the zoo, we went out to eat.

There were a few birthdays that got celebrated and it was hard because Jensen didn’t get that. Mila is at an age where she wants to sing along with everyone else’s birthday celebrations when we go out. Yet, we didn’t get one for her brother at the restaurant.

I often wonder what Mila thinks of those types of things. It’s just our life, but it’s just something I think about.

When we got home, we had family over to celebrate Jensen and his birthday. There was ice cream cake, singing, and bubbles. Everyone said his name and that will always be the greatest gift of all.

Just knowing Jensen is remembered and loved brings me such happiness.

Throughout his birthday, I received so many birthday messages and love. I can’t thank everyone enough for that. The love that surrounds him and his memory is so beautiful.

I don’t know what this year of grief looks like. Whenever I try to plan something, it feels like it gets a little derailed.

One thing I want to do in honor of Jensen this year is a backpack drive to donate to a local school. Since he’d be a kindergartner this year, I feel like that would be a beautiful way to honor him. The closer we get to the summer, the more details and information I’ll have on this.

What I do know is that as we dive into year five, he is still so loved and missed.

I think about my little boy every single day. He is the reason I keep going forward and shapes the way I parent Mila. Jensen is a part of our lives in all ways. Even though he isn’t here with us doesn’t mean he isn’t in our hearts.

No matter how many years pass, I’m so proud to be his mom.

April is National Poetry Month…

…and a bunch more too.

April is not an easy month for me and this year feels extra difficult too. On top of my intense grief with Jensen’s birthday only four days away, I’m drowning in my last semester of school, work, and Mila’s birthday too. It’s a dangerous combination. Breakdown probably imploding soon.

Through it all, I’m trying to remain positive, even when it feels really hard.

This morning, I didn’t know if I was going to blog today. Instead, I took the morning easy and painted with Mila. Since it’s National Poetry Month, I thought it’d be fun to write a poem too.

My plan is to write a poem a day, whether I share it or not. It challenges me to think inward and be expressive. In a month where I don’t have a ton of time to self reflect or do a lot of self care, this will be my time.

For the first one, I thought it’d be poetic to write one about April.


April.
you hold so much of my heart,
i don’t know where to start.
you’ve brought me life and death,
promise you won’t take my breath.
your sun shines so hot,
my son comes through forget-me-nots.
you have flowers grow all around,
while my daughter runs all around.
you always tempt me to love you,
and one day that’ll be true.

It may not be the best poem around, but I think it perfectly describes this month for me.

Here’s what’s coming up for the rest of the month. Again, it’s going to be really busy here, but I’ll be around… promise.

  • April 4 – Easter & Family Pictures
  • April 5 – Jensen turns FIVE!
  • Mila’s Birthday Party
  • April 14 – Mila turns THREE!
  • April 22 – Earth Day
  • April 27 – Last day of this semester.

When it’s listed out like that, it doesn’t seem like so much. Yet, behind every single one of those is a lot of emotions and time. So, I’ll be just a bit busy.

Let me know if I should share my daily poems. Maybe I’ll paint too!