My Story.

My first introduction to loss came when I was around 10 years old. Our family was what seemed to be the picture picture family of three. My dad was an entrepreneur, my mom was a very involved stay at home mom, and I was a typical kid with a little too much energy. 

I remember coming home from school one day and my dad sat me down and told me that my mom had been struggling with addiction. He did a really good job of explaining this to me in terms that my 10 year old self would understand. I remember feeling a loss immediately, I wasn’t sure exactly what it all meant but I felt loss. That this relationship we shared would forever be changed. I was angry, confused, sad, and scared.

As time went by, things with my moms addiction got worse. She began to rely more and more on this vice in an attempt to heal what was broken inside. I remember countless times I begged and pleaded, cried and screamed - trying to think of anything I could say to make her snap out of it. Years later after a lot of heartbreak and some really difficult decisions my parents decided to divorce. The hope of our family becoming whole again was lost.

During this transition, I lived with my dad and without using a million words to describe how wonderful that man was, let me just say…we he was the best. We experienced a lot of pain but he found a way to bring joy to my laugh, to make laughter the norm again, and to love me as well as he possibly could to make up for the hurt I had experienced. He made some of the most selfless decisions in an attempt to protect my little heart from all the pain that was around me. He made sure we laughed, we grieved the things we had lost, and that we ate way too much chocolate.

Fast forward several years, my dad went on a business trip and I stayed with my dearest friend so that I didn't miss any school #responsibleparent. Now, a couple things you should know - my father was one of the most punctual men on the planet. He was always where he said he was going to be when he said he was going to be there, and ten minuets early at that. The plan was for him to pick me up from an an after-school camp since he would be home in time. I waited with a friend as he wasn't in the parking lot and I immediately knew something was wrong. No one had heard from him - no one knew where he was and I just remember thinking something really bad had happened. It took several hours but that evening on the floor of what would be my new home I was told that my father had passed away. 

That moment still haunts me. Typing it out almost 20 years later I still get the chills seeing the words and that same pit in my stomach when I think back on that night. It was and is to this day the worst moment of my life. I will never forget the feeling as the words came out of her mouth - my heart broke into a million pieces. I felt more alone in that moment than I ever had in my entire life.

There was no last hug goodbye - or a final conversation to be able to tell him how grateful I am for all he had done, for me to express how lucky I was to call him dad. But our last conversation on the phone - we said I love you to each other a million times. It seemed so silly at the time but I am so beyond thankful for those repeated "I love you's” we were able to share. I am glad I left my rude middle school, too cool for parents attitude behind that day.  

My extended family was such a gift during this time. They allowed me to grieve, encouraged me to cry, and pushed me to put one foot in front of the other as life must and will go on. We laughed on fond memories, talked about what could have been, we cried, and we hugged....a lot. 

Several years later I found myself in high school, trying to navigate being a teenager. It was summer break and my aunt (a second mother to me) and cousins (who are much more like sisters) decided it was time for a little girls weekend getaway. We had the best time! As we arrived home on such a high from a fun weekend away we all walked into my Aunt’s home to hear my uncle deliver the news that my mom had very unexpectedly and tragically passed away. 

This was the second parent I had lost in only two and a half years yet it felt so unfamiliar. The grief was a completely different monster. We didn’t have that solid relationship. We didn’t share many I love you’s in the months and years leading up to her death. There was still so much to be resolved. The hope of mending the relationship that was so broken was lost.

Miscarriage + Infertility

Many years later, after experiencing so much love and joy I found myself married, in my 30’s and thinking about growing our family. I knew that I wanted a family. I wasn’t yearning for the baby, but I knew that I wanted to create a family greater than my husband and myself. I knew my husband would be an amazing father, and that a sweet little life deserved that gift. We began casually trying, or should I say not trying, to expand our family with little

One thing I have learned is that with life comes grief, with love comes pain. This life will never be free of hurt. What I have also learned through each and every experience is truly the mantra behind this brand: loss is HARD, grieving is NECESSARY, and JOY IS POSSIBLE on the other side of grief. I have learned that each loss is not in vain if we allow it to make us better. I hope that in those moments of loss you know you are not alone. It is ok to feel each and every ache, cry each and every tear, and to experience each moment of anger. I hope you know that your inner strength is far greater than you can ever imagine. When hope seems lost and the light at the end of the tunnel seems so distant - please know you can and you will get through this. Life may not be the same but it can still be full of hope and joy if you allow it.