My Besties’ Gender Reveal Party

Life After Miscarriage

On a lovely Friday evening in July, my best friend Andrea held a gender reveal party at her parent’s house. The party was at 7 but I went early to help her and Alli set up. Going to help prep the party was just like the good old days of baking together, making messes in the kitchen and laughing the entire time.

Even though I was still dealing with some emotions and grief, I was surprised by how well I was handling everything. I was and am so incredibly excited for Andrea. I love seeing her be an amazing mommy to her son, and I can’t wait for her to be a mommy to her baby that is due very soon.

At 7 o’clock we all gathered around the table. We took pictures and watched as Andrea and Zeb excitedly cut the cake that would soon reveal the big secret that was brewing. Zeb carefully served the first piece of cake on to the plate and the gender was revealed…

“It’s a Girl!” Andrea declared with a huge smile on her face. All of her family cooed with excitement, as I tried my best to keep a smile on my face. In that moment the real and raw pain of grief hit me all again. My baby is gone. It’s not fair. It still hurts. I tried my best to keep it together. I watched as Andrea’s mom cried, and cheered that her grandson was going to get a sister. I had to look away at this point, because I was overloaded by too many emotions all at once. I remembered closing my eyes and doing my best to try and muster up enough strength to show my happiness for my friend.

While my eyes were closed I got a huge hug from her mom. She was crying with happiness but also with sadness. She new my story and she new my pain. “I’m so sorry.” She said holding me. Tears whelmed up in my eyes and we had to step away. We went into the next room and talked. She was loving and kind. She probably still has no idea how much I needed that hug.

So, going to the gender reveal party did not go the way I had expected. I thought I would do fine, but when it comes to grief it can strike at any time. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. Andrea was very understanding at how I felt and I truly appreciate that. Though it’s hard sometimes for me to see other expectant moms, I am super excited for Andrea and to meet her precious baby girl.

The Joys and Challenges of Being an Interracial Couple

Just Me Blogging

“Puedo tener su numero del telefono? Charles said to me one day as I was gathering my things and leaving our Spanish class 5 years ago.

“What?” I said, not sure what he was saying. I tried, but I was not that good at Spanish.

“Puedo tener su numero del telephono?” He said again, and stared at me looking for an answer.

“I don’t know what you are saying… you want my phone number?” I asked confused and flattered.

“Si” he said excited. I gave him my phone number and went on my way. This was pretty much the conversation that started everything.

After meeting each other on September 4th, 2014…. we became aquaintances. We then began Spanish class buddies and eventually friends.

After asking me out 3 times, I finally said yes and Charles took me out for Indian. It was so sweet, yummy and awkward… but first dates usually are. By November 4th, 2014 we decided to make it official and become boyfriend and girlfriend…. or Novio and Novia.

We dated for a year and 8 months before getting engaged. He was so nervous as we walked through a park downtown, pulled out a ring, got down on one knee and asked me to marry him… of course I said yes. It was the best birthday present I ever received.

Exactly 3 months later, we tied the knot on November 12th, 2016. We had the perfect fall wedding with many of our friends and family in attendance. We got married in the same church my grandparents got married in, and my Daddy gave me away to Charles. It was beautiful.

Before meeting Charles, I had never really considered dating someone let alone marrying someone of a different race. I have always been open to meeting new people no matter what they look like or where they come from, but I honestly just never thought I would be in an interracial relationship.

Dating Charles made me realize we were from two different worlds. There were a lot of cultural differences that I was not at all use to. A lot of slang and phrases Charles would use I didn’t understand, or had never heard before. Thanksgiving was a huge culture shock. I was used to turkey, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, fruit, corn on the cob and pumpkin pie. In Charles very soul food oriented family we had turkey, ham, fried chicken, greens, yams, corn bread, stuffing, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and cabbage. It was amazing.

When we got married I learned more things about being a black and white interracial couple. For instance people stare at us. Sometimes they are staring at us because we’re cute together, but other times they stare at us with disapproving looks… it’s very uncomfortable.

Regardless of these differences, I truly enjoy being in an interracial marriage. I enjoy being with someone who has a very different background than I, but also shares the same values. For better for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, black or white…. I love Charles so much and I am honored to be his wife.

My Top 10 Favorite Things About Fall

All Things Fall, Just Me Blogging

Fall is my Favorite!

Fall is my favorite season. I love everything about fall. Anything from the colorful trees, to the doughnuts… I just love it! Fall is my happy place! Since I love fall so much, I have decided to share my top 10 favorite things about Fall.

My Top 10 Favorite Things About Fall

  1. Changing Leaves – I love seeing the leaves change in the fall. Here in Michigan it can be absolutely breath taking seeing red, orange, yellow and brown being displayed through out our beautiful state.
  2. Doughnuts – I would have to admit that doughnuts indeed are my love language. What’s funny is I am really not a bread person. I don’t like a lot of bread but I love the sweet, and fulfilling goodness of a doughnut… especially in the fall.
  3. Sweater and Hoodie Weather – I love to layer and be comfy in my clothes. I get so excited when it is just cool enough that I can throw on a hoodie, or look stylish and comfy in a sweater, leggings, boots and a beanie.
  4. Fall Scents – I get so excited to smell fall, I know sounds crazy to say. But I do. I love smelling pumpkin, cinnamon, apple, smores, vanilla and everything in between. I am one of those people who looks forward to a pumpkin spice latte every fall at Biggby. I am also one of those people who enjoys the new fall scents at Bath and Body Works.
  5. Football Games – I get so hyped for football games at my college. It just feels like fall when I am sitting in the stands, wearing my hoodie and cheering on my team.
  6. Back to School – Even though it may be stressful for some, back to school just puts me in a good mood. It just feels like a new beginning with new goals and dreams I have yet to accomplish. Plus, I love catching all the good back to school supplies deals.
  7. The Apple Orchard – I have many fond memories of going to the apple orchard as a child and as an adult. As a child I can recall picking apples, eating doughnuts, going on hay rides and milking a goat. As an adult I can still recall picking apples, eating doughnuts and even accompanying preschoolers on field trips to the apple orchard.
  8. Fall Vibes – For some reason I feel like here in Michigan, people are a lot happier in the fall than they are in the spring. It’s almost as if many of us Michiganaders enjoy the cool weather of fall right after a hot summer. Whereas we are slightly grumpy in the spring because we are still somewhat holding a grudge after the brutal winter we had just experienced.
  9. I Met My Husband in the Fall – Someday I will likely share our love story, but for now I will share how we met. My husband and I met on September 4th, in Spanish class at our local community college. I was sitting at a table by myself in the front of the class, and he came to sit by me… and the rest is history.
  10. My Wedding Anniversary – My Husband and I got married on November 12th , 2016. it was beautifully fall themed with doughtnut holes, apple cider, fall leaves, pumpkins… you name it, we had it. Fall is a very special time for us.

Thanks for reading my Top 10 Favorite Things About Fall! What are your favorite things about Fall?

Book Review: Loved Baby, 31 Devotions Helping You Grieve and Cherish Your Child After Pregnancy Loss

Miscarriage, Resources

Book: Loved Baby, 31 Devotions Helping You Grieve and Cherish Your Child After Pregnancy Loss

Author: Sarah Philpott, PhD

Publisher: Broadstreet

This 31 Day devotional was sent to me from a friend who too recently suffered a miscarriage. I found this book so incredibly helpful in my healing process. This book is full of real life stories, bible verses, and moments of faith that many women have experienced. I love how the author wrote this book as she was not only real with her emotions, but also sensitive with her words and advice to other Angel Mommies. This devotional is separated into various sections, and provides many topics including searching for reasons why and how to honor your due date. I absolutely loved this book and highly recommend it!

This book is available at Barnes Noble and Amazon.

Wise Words from My Friend Andrea

Physical Health, Pregnancy

Hi, I’m Andrea! How do I know Kaylee, you ask? Well, Kaylee and I have been best friends for half our lives. If you ever get a chance to ask her how we met, do it. It’s quite the story! Today, I’d like to share with you about body image. However, before we dive into such a deeply personal topic, I should tell you a little about me. I enjoy crafting, hiking, anything nature-related, good conversations, board games, changing seasons, experimenting in the kitchen, and all things Christmas. Oh, and my husband is my favorite. We met in college (another great story for another time) and have been married for three years. We have an active, inquisitive 19-month-old son and are expecting a baby girl around Thanksgiving. 

Enough about me. Let’s talk body image.

Remember when the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (William and Kate) had their first child and gave the public their first look at their new baby? In the photos released, a beaming but tired William and Kate snuggled their newest addition. Kate wore a beautiful dress that tucked in at her waist and revealed her postpartum baby bump. To my surprise, media in the US centered not on the sweet little bundle of joy, but rather on Kate’s newly postpartum body. I couldn’t believe that after waiting 9-10 months to meet their baby, the public was more interested in how small Kate’s waist was, the fact that her belly still bulged little, and other features not worth noting.

While stigmas surrounding body image affect every person, childbearing women especially experience this reality in a deep and raw way. Some women I’ve known have a newfound security in their body image while pregnant or even after birth, finding pride in what their bodies can do and how many incredible changes they face to nourish and care for a child. Other women face deeper and more extreme struggles when they don’t have the perfectly round baby bump they’ve always pictured, or stretch marks tear across new areas of their bodies, or they face pain with their previously normal activities such as walking, intimacy, or even sitting. 

Pregnancy has a way of impacting every portion of our being, from physical to emotional to spiritual. From the moment conception takes place, our bodies begin a long process of growing, changing, and morphing in new ways. With my first pregnancy, I pictured glowing skin smiling through morning sickness, a perfectly round little baby bump, and minimal weight gain that would slough off with a few months of breastfeeding. Boy, was I wrong. I was instead met with an overall feeling of puffiness from my face to my toes almost immediately after conceiving. My fatigue was overwhelming. I didn’t just feel tired. I looked tired. Acne popped up. When my bump began to show (much earlier than anticipated, I should add), I was met with more insecurity. I’ve always had a rough relationship with my stomach. Attracting more attention to an area I’ve always wanted to downplay brought up even more feelings of insecurity, especially considering the many unwelcome hands touching it (another topic altogether). Yes, I was absolutely thankful to be pregnant, but I just didn’t look or feel the way I had pictured. 

Once I was in the midst of the second half of my pregnancy, my weight gain – while in the healthy range on doctor’s office charts – felt like too much. My jeans were tight and my maternity shirts that had fit me at 18 weeks were creeping too high on my stomach while my bust pushed them too low on my chest. Everything was changing. By 30 weeks, my stomach had reached its limit for how far it could stretch. I tried creams, but my genetics won out. Stretch marks began to span across my growing belly. When I found the first one, I felt panic rise in my chest. “What?! This early?! How many more will I get before my baby arrives?” I’m glad I didn’t know the answer then. I needed time to accept and appreciate my changing body. 

Eventually, I couldn’t see my toes. I could hardly do a patchwork job of shaving my legs. I was too uncomfortable to do much of anything. Basic hygiene took loads of effort. I didn’t feel very human anymore. I used to be excited for this stage of pregnancy when I was obviously pregnant and feeling every movement of my little son…but the discomfort nearly outweighed the excitement. Then I faced guilt for feeling this way. Much of my pregnancy was not what I had pictured.

Then, the day came. The day. I gave birth to my miracle son, my sweet little boy. I had pictured this moment in my mind’s eye countless times. I’d heard women say everything in their world melted away the moment they saw their baby, and nothing else mattered. It’s a bit of a dramatized statement, but it holds some truth. Looking at my son and recognizing that I was his most crucial caregiver brought new perspective to my life. My dislikes about the current state of my body didn’t matter so much anymore. I had more to think about than the size of my waist or how many stretch marks I had acquired. 

Regardless of a shift in perspective, I still had the same body to sleep in, eat in, and see naked in the bathroom mirror. I had the same body to move in, breathe in, and use to care for my new baby. I had to come to terms with what it was. I remember lying in the bathtub at the hospital the first chance I had to bathe after birth. I was exhausted and thankful that I had completed the birthing process. Then, I looked at my stomach…and I couldn’t believe the words that came to my mind. “My stomach is floating.” That once-full belly with a little pregnancy fat and a little pregnancy stretch was floating. My stomach muscles were too tired and stretched to hold it. I felt another wave of panic. “Will my stomach always be like this?! How will I ever run again? How will I ever find another dress that makes me feel beautiful?” But thankfully, I was too tired to dwell on these things for long. 

In the weeks following birth, I was still too tired to do much fretting about what my body looked like. I was caring for a new life 24/7 and adjusting to a new level of responsibility and purpose for me. Eventually, as I emerged from the fog of caring for a newborn, my insecurities began to eat at me again. It took longer than I had imagined for my stomach muscles to tighten again. My extra weight wouldn’t budge much until I had stopped nursing my son. Yet, this round of dealing with insecurities looked different than it had throughout my pregnancy. This time, I had a newfound empowerment. Yes, I was stretched out, tired, scarred, and a few pounds heavier than I wanted to be…but I had carried a life. I wore the battle scars of nourishing another human from the inside out. I plumbed the depths of my heart and mind for strength I didn’t know I could ever muster during the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy, in that birthing suite, and in the middle of the night fits of colic. And in those moments, I had the opportunity to reassess my purpose in life, and how that intense difficulty served to point me to the One who made me, sustains me, and gave me my son to care for. He gave me meaning and purpose and used even my lowest moments to teach me about himself and draw me in to his incredible grace and tenderness. 

Call me crazy, but I’ve found more confidence and strength in my postpartum body than I ever had in my pre-baby body with my flat, smooth stomach and well-exercised body. Defining my purpose and looking beyond the moment to remember it was more impactful than a few stretch marks could ever be. I’ve been scarred by childbearing…but the confidence I’ve found has meant more than any of my previous body ideals. And that confidence could only be found in seeing beyond the moment and shifting my perspective to my body’s purpose. I am so much more than my body. 

Whether you’ve ever experienced pregnancy, birth, or caring for a baby postpartum, you’re bound to at least experience some form of body image issues. Remember, your body is a vehicle to carry out your purpose in life. It’s not the prize at the end of a race. You have a chance to live every day in this vehicle that will continually morph throughout your life, with or without childbearing. And it’s worth it. Don’t let your body be what defines you. It’s about what you do with your body that matters. Who are you? What do you think? What makes you tic? How do you spend your time? What gives you purpose?

What is Human Development? Poem

Poems

What is Human Development?

It all starts from the very beginning…

Before a human even starts thinking

And even before the heart starts beating

It all starts at conception

When the egg and sperm engage in flirtation

That’s when it all begins

As conception takes place

The genetics and DNA become reality

And then forms a baby, for all to see

The birds and the bees

The grass and the trees

All connected through the process of development

As one big family

Making Peace with God

Faith, Life After Miscarriage

So I’m gonna be honest… I have been dreading writing this post. It’s not because it’s hard, I’m lazy or I just don’t want to talk about being restored in Jesus. I mostly think, my hesitation for writing this post is because I am so humbled and gracious for all God has provided for me. I am also feeling somewhat guilty for how I have treated Him.


Before I really dive into this post, I should give you a little background of my beliefs and faith. I grew up going occasionally to a white nondenominational church. I did this off and on with my aunt until I was about 10 years old. When I was 11 I started attending a weekly bible study with my friend and even attended Lake Ann Camp for a week. It was here that I asked Jesus into my heart and to forgive all my sins. I was born again. When I was 12 I started going with my best friends to a larger white baptist church. I faithfully went to that church for about 6 years. At this church I attended many church camps, found growth and strength in my relationship with Jesus as well as wonderful fellowship with friends. I also was baptized and learned how to be a God fearing, woman of God. When I was 19 I attended my first mission trip. I knew of many people who had been on mission trips and claimed they were life changing, but I didn’t believe it until I experienced it. I traveled to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic where I met so many children, created food packages, clothing bundles and even helped build houses for widows and their children. This trip changed my life. At 19 I also started teaching 2 and 3 year olds in children’s church. Even though I felt lost in the church, I was slowly starting to discover my purpose.

When I was 19 almost 20, I decided to start attending my husband’s black nondenominational church (we were only dating at the time). Part of the reason I made the switch to a new church again is simply because, I just felt lost not knowing my identity in church or feeling like I had much of a church family. At this church it was smaller and I felt more at home and accepted. It was here my relationship with Jesus really took off. I was able to grow in skills of faithfulness, trust and even obedience.


“We got married in the same church my grandparents were married in 50+ years ago.”


Before meeting my husband, I had developed boundaries, and goals of what and how I would like to be pursued by a man, how I wanted to engage in a courtship instead of a dating relationship, and what I would like as far as values and characteristics of my future husband. When I met Charles, he wasn’t totally familiar with courtship, but he completely valued a Christian based relationship. We courted for two years, and were engaged for three months. We got married in the same church my grandparents got married in 50+ years ago. Our wedding was beautiful with traditional vows, our first kiss at the alter, and the moment I gave my purity ring to my groom. I wouldn’t change a thing.


Fast forward to January 2019, when I became pregnant. Charles and I had been married for two years and two months. Both still faithful Christians, going to church at least every other week, and thanking God for all that we have. I was content and even excited in where I was. I was pregnant, about to be a mom. We shared this news with my church family, and they rejoiced with us. Everything was great, not perfect but pretty close.

My heart and all my hopes and dreams shattered when we lost MacKenzie. Since there was no concrete reason for such a terrible loss, who could we blame? Well… unfortunately, I chose to blame God. The one being who is In charge of the whole universe, I assumed He had control over this situation and He let me down. I would even go so far to say at the time I hated Him. I cringe at even admitting that. But it’s true. My anger and my hatred was so strong at myself and at God.


“My anger and my hatred was so strong at myself and at God.”


The time between my ultrasound and by surgery, I didn’t really pray much. I think if I did it was just asking things like “Why God?” and “How could you?” I know I worried I would end up miscarrying naturally, before my surgery, but I don’t think I prayed about it. I had hundreds of people praying for me, which was comforting because at the time I just didn’t have the strength. The only time I remember praying was as I was getting rolled to the operating room. I was so sad. I wanted to die. However, I didn’t want to die and hurt other people. I couldn’t bare imagining dying and leaving my friends and family behind to grieve and mourn my loss. So, I prayed. I asked God to get me through. When I woke up from surgery I cried, screaming and told God I hated Him. It was awful. I was still under anaesthesia but I felt like I was watching myself scream from outside my body. I’m ashamed at how I was acting. But honestly, this is what heartbreak looked like.

The weeks following the miscarriage, I continued to fall into depression and blame God. It really hurt my husband to see me like this. I refused to go to church for over a month. I didn’t want anyone to say anything to set me off. I also just didn’t want to come to Jesus and praise His name. So I didn’t. I cried at home, and journaled instead.

By about 5 weeks after the miscarriage, I decided to go back. It wasn’t because I wanted to find comfort in Jesus, it was because I missed my church family. When we went back we were greeted by some kind words as well as some not so helpful words. Most people at the church knew what had happen, but still didn’t know how to react. Once I was there, I was ready to leave. I didn’t want to be there anymore, I came to church but that’s it. That was enough for me at the time.


” I don’t really think I had one ‘Come to Jesus’ moment, but rather a bunch of little moments…”


So, looking back I don’t really think I had one Come to Jesus moment, but rather a bunch of little moments that helped me. After many conversations with my mom, she helped me see that having a baby in Heaven who is perfect, living joyfully and without pain is sometimes better than having a baby here on earth who is sick and in pain all their life. Seeing various rainbows in the sky, gave me peace. It was like a spiritual humbling peace, that showed me that my baby was okay up in Heaven. Going to church and having my sister-in-law pray over me was also so powerful. She just kept saying something good would come out of this, double for my trouble so to speak. But the most surprising moment that happen, was more about Charles grief than mine. As we were praying at church one day, he just burst out crying. He was crying in anguish and devastation that mirrored my own devastation and heart break. This was a side of him I had never seen before.


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Through all of these moments and more, I realized yet again there is an all powerful and loving God. He is the creator of the universe, the planets and the stars… and yet He cares for me! He loves me. I am just a spec on this large planet, but to Him I am everything. I am His daughter. i was wounded, I was angry, and I was broken… and He still loved me. My baby died, but it wasn’t His fault. He allowed it to happen for a reason. The reason being she would have been in pain here on earth, and he knew if I had to watch her in pain everyday, that would have destroyed me more than miscarrying her. He is a gracious and good God.

It has taken me a really long time to get here, but I have. I’ve made peace with God. Even though it hurt, and it still hurts I know it happened for a reason. I know I have a little baby up in Heaven watching over me. I know she is living her best life probably chasing a butterfly. I know she’s okay.

I cry as I write this because I was so awful. I was wrong. Jesus took my baby home, for everyone’s best interest, and for that I am grateful. He is good. I’ve made my peace. I’ve said I’m sorry and I’m trying to do better. I can’t believe I’m saying this but, I am thankful for this lesson of grief and love. I am so thankful I was able to carry my baby, if only for a short time. And I am so thankful that even though I constantly pushed Him away, Jesus never left me, and when I came running back to Him… He welcomed me with love and open arms.

“Be Still and KNOW that I am God.” – Psalms 46:10

The Decision to Try Again

Life After Miscarriage

Sometime in May, after my breakthrough in counseling and our Mother’s Day Getaway… Charles and I continued considering the idea of trying again. If someone had told us that we would desire to have another baby a few months ago, after we had just lost our baby… I wouldn’t have believed it. But it’s true. Charles and I are both in this peaceful place and desire to be parents someday soon.

Throughout our many discussions on this topic, I have disclosed with my husband my fears and anxieties of trying again. It’s scary. It’s a risk. There are so many things that could happen. We could have trouble getting pregnant. We could have another miscarriage. We could have a stillbirth. We could have a difficult pregnancy, or delivery. Or… we could have a healthy normal pregnancy and delivery. It takes so much energy to worry about what could happen. I’m quickly realizing, that this is no way to live.

This summer before we start trying, I have set a few goals for myself; including eating healthier, losing weight, saving money, finding activities I enjoy, starting my personal small business, and just taking care of me. I have been on this journey of self discovery and healing for a little while now. It has honestly been one of the best summers of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I grieve and miss my baby every single day, but I have grown from what I’ve lost. It’s truly amazing.

So, yes someday soon Charles and I are going to try again. I don’t know when. I don’t know how long or if we’ll even be able to get pregnant. If we do get pregnant, I haven’t even considered how soon we will want to share our news. All I know is this… I am not in control of everything. I can and will do my best to take care of myself, but ultimately the future is in the Lord’s hands. I have faith and through this journey, that’s what I choose to hold on to.

Mother’s Day Part 3: The Flowers

Life After Miscarriage

On the way home from the beach, Charles and I stopped by my parents house. We ate dinner with my parents and gave my Mom and Grandma Mother’s Day gifts. It was a bittersweet day, but I was thankful to celebrate it with my family. Before leaving my mom let me go into her flower garden and pick a few flowers to take home.

On the drive back home, I admired and appreciated the beautiful flowers that rested in the vase on my lap. I cherished their beauty and reminisced the day. I thought about how I celebrated Mother’s Day. I also reflected back to that January evening when I found out I was pregnant… and all the many memories that led me to this moment. As I reflected back I became overwhelmed with emotion. All of the feelings of this day had hit me and I sobbed on the way home. Rain hit the windows of the car, and it was as if God was crying with me. As I continued crying, I looked down at the flowers in my lap, and was simply amazed by what I saw. The beautiful flowers I had picked out of my Mother’s garden were now opening and blooming right before my eyes. In between tears I watched in amazement and pointed it out to Charles. Even through my grief and sadness of this day, I was still able to find a little joy. ❤️

Mother’s Day Part 2: My Celebration of Mother’s Day as an Angel Mommy

Life After Miscarriage

On the morning of Sunday May 12th, 2019; I was greeted with a variety of different emotions. It was Mother’s Day. It was the first Mother’s Day that I felt different. Every other Mother’s Day in the past I celebrated my mother, grandma and other motherly figures in my life. However this year, when that pregnancy test turned positive, I immediately had dreams of spending my first Mother’s Day pregnant, and my second with my beautiful baby. Everything in me wished things were different, and I was still pregnant. But sadly that wasn’t the case.

I spent the morning watching the sunrise and writing a blog post. When my husband woke up he wished me a happy Mother’s Day. We got dressed and headed down to the continental breakfast that was being served downstairs. As we ate breakfast I messaged and wish all the moms I knew a happy Mother’s Day. I also received some very heart felt messages from my mom, friends and other family members.

That afternoon Charles and I headed back down to the beach. As a part of my mission to advocate for Angel Mommies, I decided to join in the Blue Mother’s Day Campaign. This is a campaign that brings awareness to all kinds of moms, whether their babies are here on earth or in Heaven. To show support this Mother’s Day I drew a blue heart on my hand in memory of my baby girl Mackenzie.

Mother’s Day Part 1: A Romantic Weekend Getaway on My First Mother’s Day as an Angel Mommy

Life After Miscarriage

During one of my counseling sessions in April, I discussed with my counselor how I was dreading Mother’s Day. Even though my baby would not have been born during this Mother’s Day, just the thought of seeing kids celebrating their moms would be triggering for me. My counselor suggested that I make plans for the day and how I wanted to celebrate.

I talked it over with my husband and we decided to take an over night getaway to Silver Beach, St. Joe. All week long as we prepared for the trip, I obsessively watched the weather. It wasn’t until Thursday that it said it was going to rain all weekend. Bummer. Never the less we still went.

On the drive there we picked up some coffees from Biggby and enjoyed the ride. We had a really nice conversation about work, school, our future together and everything in between. This trip was relaxing and well needed. When we arrived at our hotel, we checked in and went to our room. It was gorgeous. We were on the 6th floor with a beautiful view of the city and Lake Michigan. We spent that afternoon doing some shopping and heading to dinner at a local brewery. We enjoyed some delicious burgers and fries, and continued talking about our future as husband and wife and as parents.

I brought up the topic of kids and when we wanted to try again and start a family. As much as both our desires are strong and we want kids, we both knew we still had some healing to do. I really wanted to work on myself this summer by physically losing weight and being healthier. I also wanted to be emotionally and mentally in a better space. Lastly, I still needed to find some spiritual healing and make peace with God as I was still quite angry with him. Charles wanted to work on himself as well by getting a better job, saving more money, eating healthier and just continuing to grow in our marriage.

After dinner we went back to the hotel and went swimming in the pool and hot tub. There weren’t a lot of people and it was very relaxing. After swimming we rested in our hotel room for a little bit. As the sun started to set we headed down to the beach. It was very chilly but comforting. As one way to remember my baby that Mother’s Day weekend, I wrote her name in the sand. I knew she was in Heaven and I had faith that she could see it from where she was. 🧡

The People Who Reached Out to Me

Life After Miscarriage

The days, weeks and even months after we lost our baby; I had many people reach out to us and show us support. The topic of miscarriage is such a taboo topic. People don’t know how to talk about it. People don’t know how to handle it. It’s sad, especially since it’s so common. I believe one reason people don’t know how to deal with it, is because it boils down to beliefs and when we as people believe when life begins. Now, I’m not about to turn this post into a discussion of abortion… or at least that’s not my intention. But I do want to point out that since some people believe life begins at conception, while others believe life begins when a heart starts beating, and still others believe life begins once a baby is born; then that may be why people don’t know how to handle the topic of miscarriage. They don’t believe miscarriage is a big deal because they don’t believe a woman has lost a baby. They believe a woman has lost a ball of cells or tissue that was turning into a baby. Coming from someone who has had a miscarriage, that makes me feel like my experience, my loss and trauma was insignificant, and that’s not fair. Now, this is just my opinion and coming from my perspective but I believe life begins at conception. Whether I lost my baby at 8 weeks or 8 months… it still hurts. It’s still a loss. I will forever grieve that loss.


Despite the fact that miscarriage has a stigma and is such a taboo topic, I was definitely greeted by many woman who gave both me and my husband love and support through one of the most challenging times in our lives. My friend Alli was a major support for me. She came to the hospital when I had my D & C, she messaged me and checked on me everyday for weeks just to make sure I was still breathing and getting through each day. She would come over at a moments notice or take me out when I just needed to get out of the house. She would listen to me vent, give me advice and just find ways to make me smile even when I didn’t think I would be able to smile again. I have been friends with Alli for over ten years and I am eternally grateful for her friendship and all she’s done for me in my life.

My friend Christa was very kind as well. She would send me funny videos of her lip syncing songs and just goofing around with Snapchat filters… anything to make me laugh. She also sent me encouraging videos, telling me it was okay to be sad and it was okay to grieve any way I needed to. I talked to her on the phone a few days after my surgery and it was so comforting to talk with someone who just listened. She is a great listener.

My friend Reaghan was also a really good listener and empathetic. I tell Reaghan all the time she should be a counselor. She literally has a good sense of when to speak up and when to be silent and just listen. There were days I needed that. There were days I would go through every emotion of sadness, anger, depression, joy and everything in between. Reaghan would never interrupt me through my cyclone of emotions. She would sit and listen but also jump in and remind me that this miscarriage was not my fault. I’m so grateful for her.

My friend Andrea was also very helpful. When I told her the news about my baby, she was devastated. With her being a new mom herself, she couldn’t imagine the pain I was going through, and was also heartbroken for me. When talking to Andrea, I knew I could be brutally honest with her. I told her I didn’t want to feel this pain anymore. I told her I wanted to die. She was very supportive and encouraging, even though I wasn’t very accepting of her encouragement at the time. She said she would walk through this journey with me, and she sure has. She also reminded me it’s okay to be angry at God. We can be angry and we can be confused of His reasons why. It’s okay. I’m very thankful for her and her encouragement.

My mom… she has been my biggest support from my pregnancy all the way until now as I write this. After losing a child herself, she knew all too well the pain and loss I would go through when we found out my baby had died. Even though she didn’t have a miscarriage, and my brother died as an infant, she understood the loss of a baby, loss of control, and the loss of the dreams when losing a little life. She has understood and helped me navigate through every phase of the grief process. When I was little, I remember asking her “What if I lose a baby too?” It was a question I was scared to ask, but couldn’t help that it crossed my mind. My mom said “Well, I guess it just means we were both meant to go through it.” This answer scared me, and I hoped and prayed I never would have to go through it… but unfortunately I did. It sucks. Death is awful and apart of life. Grief takes a lot out of us. Trauma makes us remember we are not in control. So, through this experience even though it sucks, my mom and I have been able to bond and grow closer than we ever have. I thank God for her every single day.

My friend Jeanie also helped me navigate the grief process. She recently lost her uncle and knew all too well how grief can feel never ending and hit you when you least expect it. There were many times I would become triggered or simply fall apart, and she was almost always right there to hold me and tell me to feel what ever I was feeling. It was nice to know I wasn’t alone and she made it safe for me to let out my emotions. I’m thankful for her.

My internship coordinator Danielle was also very supportive to me. She believes self care is super important, and helped me not to feel guilty when I needed to take care of myself after my loss. She has been so incredibly understanding through everything. She has helped me through triggers and panic attacks. She reminded me the importance of being gentle and taking care of myself. She encouraged me on every little accomplishment I’ve made and helped me reach my goals. Lastly she has encouraged and educated me on how to be an advocate for miscarriage and infant loss. She has helped me reach my dreams.

All of my professors this past spring semester were also helpful and understanding through my loss and miscarriage. Without me even asking, they offered me incompletes, extensions on assignments and everything I needed to succeed this past semester. It was hard at times to be open with both of them about what I was going through, but because I left that line of communication open, they were willing and able to work with me and help me succeed.

My friends Maryanne and Ally offered me many prayers through my grief along with so many others. I didn’t truly realize how strong the power of prayer can be, until my husband and I experienced this loss. I didn’t understand how a loss can bring people together and encourage people to support each other. I am so thankful to everyone who sent good thoughts and prayers to me and my husband.


Another thing that surprised me when I decided to share my story, is how many people came forward and told me they too had had a miscarriage. They too understood the pain and loss that I was experiencing. They too knew just what to say in order to help me in this difficult season in my life. I had one friend who messaged me and told me she thought I was very brave for sharing my story. She said she herself her suffered a miscarriage with her first pregnancy and suffered in silence. She now has her beautiful rainbow baby. She has been such an inspiration to me. I had another friend reach out to me and send me bible verses, gospel songs and words of encouragement as she too experienced a miscarriage a few months prior. I had another women private message me and tell me they had had miscarriages many years ago, and now they have other living children of whom are healthy and doing well. But they all told me they never forget the babies they lost and how they can’t help but wonder who those children would be if they weren’t called home so soon. I also had another woman message me who has suffered many miscarriages, and now has two children whom she has adopted.

All these women who reached out to me, have truly inspired me and helped me as I grieve and heal after my miscarriage. I never in a million years thought I would become a part of this club that has babies in Heaven. It’s not a club you ever wish to be a part of. But there’s something about all these women, as well as myself that we all have in common. I firmly believe we have an angel in Heaven watching over us. Through the loss of losing our babies, we look at life differently. We learn to appreciate the little moments, and even find some strength in our short comings. I personally, also have found comfort in God, and how yes He called my baby home and it hurts, but I find comfort in knowing she never felt pain. She is in a beautiful place where she is living her best life and watching over me.

“There is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart for a child who never comes.” – David Platt

Making a Memory Box

Life After Miscarriage

At the end of March, I compiled all of my baby items that I specifically wanted to put away into a memory box, dedicated to my baby. I also gathered sympathy cards, hospital bracelets, pregnancy photos and my ultrasounds. I had gone to the store with my mom and picked out the box and letters to decorate it. I was officially ready to begin this new project.

One evening, Charles went to a hockey game while I stayed home. I thought this would be a good opportunity to put together my memory box, since Charles just wanted this to mostly be my thing. I laid out all the letters on the table, and plugged in the glue gun into the surge protector to heat up. I picked out the letters I needed for Mackenzie’s name, and placed them where I would want them. Once the glue gun was heated up, I began gluing the different letters and designs.

Once I was finished, I began placing the different mementos in the box. I started to tear up as I put away the onesies, and the baby hat. I was absolutely so excited to have my baby girl, and dress her in the cutest outfits, I reflected. Sorrow filled my heart yet again as I folded each piece of clothing and placed them in the box. I guess I would have to wait to have a baby, if I ever get the chance. I thought.

As I finished filling the box, the craziest thing happen. I was deep in my thoughts when… BOOM! I saw a spark about ten inches from my face come from the glue gun. I jumped back into the couch stunned. I looked around and noticed my tv which was playing, was now turned off along with half the lighting in the living room. I looked at the once blue, but now black smoking glue gun on the table. My glue gun exploded. I ended up calling my parents and calling maintenance to help me as I had blown a fuse. That night I learned you are not actually suppose to plug a glue gun into a surge protector. Apparently, since it has a heating element, the surge protector can mess with it as I had seen first hand… lesson learned. All in all, despite that minor near death experience… I loved my memory box and how beautifully it turned out.

“Babies lost in the womb were never touched by fear. They were never cold, never hungry, never alone, and importantly… always knew love.” – J Clark – Coates

Seeing the Rainbow 🌈

Miscarriage

On Thursday March 14th, my day consisted of being at my internship, and going to one of the student organizations. More often than not, my friend Reaghan and I would usually go get dinner after our RSO meeting. Our meeting let out at 4:30pm that afternoon. When we got ready to leave, we were greeted by sunshine and a quick spring thunderstorm. It was a very weird scene to be in the midst of. As we walked through campus getting soaked and trying to think of what to eat, Reaghan pointed out something in the sky.

“Look! It’s a rainbow!” She said excited. We both smiled and pulled out our phones to take a picture. As we looked at the rainbow I was filled with joy… something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Later that night we went out to a local pizza place with our other friend Gillian and got pizzas for $3.14 since it was 🥧 PI Day.

After eating my pizza and heading home, I kept thinking about the rainbow we saw. It was so incredibly beautiful. Seeing this in the sky reminded me of a quote and a bible verse I had heard and read in the past…

“Lord, make me a rainbow… I’ll shine down on my mother. She’ll know I’m safe with you when she stands under my colors.” – The Band Perry

“…and the rainbow hath been in the cloud, and I have seen it, to remember the covenant age during between God and every living creature among all flesh which is on the earth.” – Genesis 9:16


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Seeing this rainbow in the sky restored some of my faith in God. I had been angry with Him for weeks. I said some very hurtful things. I still had a broken heart, but seeing this rainbow in the sky gave me hope. I had hope that my baby Mackenzie was in Heaven. I had hope that she was not in pain now and had never felt pain before. I had hope that she was watching over me, and that she was okay. I had hope that my pain wasn’t going to last forever. I was reminded of the rainbow from the book of Genesis and how God keeps his promises. I thought about that rainbow and thought about my calling to be a mommy someday. Seeing that rainbow after a crazy storm gave me faith that God keeps his promises and He would keep His promise to me. I am now an Angel Mommy, and I will be an earthly Mommy someday. ❤️

The Bears 🙏

Miscarriage

I didn’t realize it at the time, but the prayer bear the Chaplin gave me at the hospital, was actually a bear I had seen before. Years before I was born, my mom had a child who died as a baby due to an unknown genetic condition. A few years later my mom was given a gift from her best friend in remembrance of the son she lost and as a symbol of faith… the prayer bear. So, when the Chaplin handed me my prayer bear, I knew I had seen one before. What are the odds my mom and I would both be given the exact same prayer bear for practically the same reason?

Finding this out made me realize something. My mom and I both lost a child… maybe not in the same way, but we both have experienced the trauma and excruciating loss that comes with losing a child. Realizing this made me cry… a lot. But, it also gave me comfort. My mom and I both experienced a similar loss, and because of this we have been able to bond and become closer. In some ways, I hate that we’ve both had to go through this pain. However, I find comfort and joy knowing both our babies are in Heaven.