Our Miracle, Milo

It's the last day of 2025. The year that brought me you. 2025 started with thinking we lost you in January, to learning you had a complex heart defect in February. In March, we learned you had Trisomy 13. April and May consisted of fierce advocacy and finding a hospital that believed in you as much as we did. June, you made your entrance to our world, and your departure too soon after. July through December have simply been surviving and finding our new normal without you while trying to heal the hole you've left in our hearts and our family.  In my last post, I said November was the hardest month yet, and unfortunately, I don't feel things are getting any easier. December brought your 6 month birthday, and Christmas without you. It's especially heavy as we move into the new year. When Milo first passed, I struggled with the calendar change to July, then August, because each month took me further away from his life. The concept of the new year takes me back to those raw...

Well, I guess it's an official "mom move" to miss the monthly birthday at some point right? I thought about posting on Milo's 5 month birthday, but between swimming lessons, a busy week of work, and Thanksgiving it had to wait...  To be completely honest, this month has been one of the hardest yet. I think that with my body physically healing, the shock has worn off and now my heart is so raw and broken. It feels so heavy. There are days where I am just trying to get through without completely breaking down, and other days where there's it's just an overwhelming feeling of sadness. We took Ryleigh to see "Wicked: For Good" last weekend, and as they were singing "For Good" the lyrics hit me SO much differently than the many, many times I've listened to the soundtrack. The verses are equally applicable, but the chorus truly resonates with me in a new profound way.   "Like a comet pulled from orbit, As it passes a Sun, Like a stream t...

With each blog post, comes a tracker that tells you how many people have read your post. With each post/update prior to Milo's arrival, we were tracking in the 200-300 range. When Milo was born, that post had over 1,000 views, and since that day, it has slowly dwindled down. My last post had 23 views. My writing has never been about the numbers by any means, but rather to share Milo's story. And while I'm down to so few continuing to follow our story, I keep going back and forth on whether to continue sharing our journey. But my hope is, that because I continue to share our story, that maybe a parent who finds themselves in a similar journey might stumble across our story and feel less alone.  Milo, it's been 4 months since you made your way earthside. I can nearly replay every moment of the day. The laughter, the hope, the tears of joy. When I think back to the day of your birth, one thing I don't recall is feeling anxious. This is strange to me, because I was so a...

  As I sat here trying to decide if I should do a blog post, I went back and forth on whether I should do a 3 month milestone picture. My rational "thinking" brain (in teacher talk) said something along the lines of "Why? It's not like it has changed from the last two." But my "feeling" brain is saying, "Take the milestone picture." It's incredibly exhausting how your thoughts can feel like the little angel and devil on your shoulder that's often depicted in movies. And frankly, you can't get either of them to shut up.  This last month has been one of the hardest ones yet. Josh and I started back to work, which resulted in changes in routine, a lot of chaos and stress, and the heavy realization in my heart that I was supposed to be on maternity leave.  The first week back was absolutely draining for me. I found myself emotional over little things (like the copier being used) or struggling to stay focused during meetings that were ...

  Milo James, today you'd be two months old. We should be celebrating milestones like you holding your head up and becoming more aware of your surroundings. Instead, we spent part of the day choosing fonts for your headstone.  In this past month, we've found more of our groove again. Your siblings keep us busy, in a much needed way. We celebrated Oliver's 2nd birthday. We've had lots of adventures, granted we would have loved to have you with us. We've smiled every time we see a monarch or dragonfly, and said "Hi Milo!" We've visited your grave many times. Ry and O had a blast the last time we visited. We blew you bubbles, Ryleigh whispered words for only you to hear, and Oliver is starting to talk about you and say your name. While you are no longer earthside, you are still SUCH a part of our family. In other exciting news, you're going to be in a book! Born Abel has a new book coming out in the near future: Born Abel: One in a Million-Unicorn Clu...

Today is the last day of July, which is Bereaved Parents Awareness Month. It also happens to be exactly six weeks since Milo left us.  Grief is not linear. In fact, it feels like riding a rollercoaster with a blindfold on. Some days, we are at the peak. Others, we are at the valleys. The rest are a mix between climbing out of the trenches or plummeting to the depths.  I'm grateful for all the resources our family has had access to: counseling, meal trains, books on grief, time off, family time, and more. These things have been absolutely necessary in these past six weeks, which I firmly believe is why we are starting to find our new 'normal.'  In these past six weeks, I have had to do things I would never imagine. From sitting at a funeral home picking out a casket at 5 days postpartum amidst baby blues, to explaining over and over again to a 3.5 year old why her brother will never come home, to sitting in a monument shop picking out which headstone we want for Milo for e...