“I am writing this to you from the table of our tiny little space. In the room behind me our three beautiful little homeschooled boys are sleeping in bunks and my husband is telling me it’s getting late from our room on the other side of the living/kitchen/dining area. We could go out tomorrow and be approved for monstrous debt, we just don’t want it.”
‘Most of the house was gone. Two different firemen carried my boys down and a third came up for me while their crew broke windows and doors to put out the fire.’: Terrifying house fire leads family down a new life path
‘You are NOT a widow.’
“It might be meant to be funny and it might be catchy, but if you are saying it and your husband is still alive, you are using the term wrong. You are not a widow.”
‘Instead of filling up my own car, I decided to do something nice and fill theirs up first. But when I went to put gas into my tank, there wasn’t anything left.’
“No gas. Not a drop. And so I sat there, with my kids crying in the backseat, on the cold pavement: sad, guilty, annoyed, and alone. I had no way to get us home.”
‘When you (and your nursery) are left empty, messy and unfinished’: Mom’s anguish after baby’s stillbirth
“Twenty-seven days after Cayden’s death I opened that door. But I wasn’t ready for it. I went in to iron my skirt on the ironing board but everything froze, including me.”
