LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.

LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“My son is standing by his school gate and suddenly he is grabbed by a stranger. I’m holding my baby and I accidentally drop him down the stairs. I thought I was a failure for thinking and feeling this way. But I wasn’t.”
“The 7-year-old who suddenly ‘can’t’ put their own shoes on? The 10-year-old who asks you to get them a drink? The 4-year-old who whines they can’t put their own jacket on (but they totally can)? They may just be craving more of your eyes and thoughts on them.”
“I love my children, but this is me. I need antidepressants to be a better mother. My house will sometimes look like a bomb site. That’s how I survive.”
“No waiting mass of family and friends in the waiting room. No hospital bedside meeting with your sissy. Just us. And you.”
“I was at the gym when I got the call it was probably not a viable pregnancy. So, to take my frustration out, I went and lifted as heavily as I possibly could. The following week, I went in for blood work to make sure my numbers went to zero. When I got home, my husband and I went for a walk with Michael, and then the doctor called me. My numbers didn’t go to zero, they more than doubled.”
“The system isn’t perfect. Gifts aren’t always easy or life-changing or neatly packaged. Little things like spending more time outdoors with my kids during the pandemic can be a gift within a tragedy. I’ve also had hardships that didn’t seem to yield any gifts.”
“It looks like looking into a dirty mirror, taking a silent selfie I’ll surely put a filter on later, flashing a goofy-*ss grin, feeling proud I ran two miles, mowed the lawn, and got a shower in while the kids are at grandma’s. Then we remember, alas, it’s only Tuesday, and though the kiddies have a day off of school tomorrow, it’s back to work, the grind, and the monotony a typical Monday through Friday delivers.”
“A few months later, we found out we were pregnant again. It was a day full of pure happiness, and we knew this time it would work out. A week or so later I started having some pain and concerns. We were told it was another miscarriage. Five days after being told we miscarried, the pain was back and so incredibly severe. My OB said, ‘Take some Motrin, and hopefully it would go away.'”
“It did a number on my already-raw heart. A week later, I was FaceTiming my mother-in-law. I kept the camera angled towards my husband Luke—careful to ensure no one caught a glimpse of my healing body I was suddenly insecure about. During the call, I was thrust into the camera view.”
“Keeping track of those stubborn mates for four girls is near impossible. Actually, it IS an impossible task, and I’m not willing or ready to even begin to tackle it.”