This is me

Dear Stevie,
My friend Julie had the excellent idea of devoting an entire post to all about who we are...other than just mothers to lost babies. I often feel like I am becoming defined by my "status." Yes, I will always be a babyloss mom, and yes, I will always, always have a hole in my heart that belongs to you, but I fear I am going to be forever known simply as "that girl whose baby died." And there's so much more to me than that.

So who am I?

I am the daughter of two amazing parents, who fell in love when they were 16 and got married at 18 years old:


After over 10 years of marriage, and one lost baby girl, I, their "rainbow baby" was born.

The three of us lived in Billings, Montana, where my dad was a youth pastor and my mom taught preschool and stayed at home with me. I was totally spoiled (in a good way!) and always the center of attention. Until, that is, we moved to Richmond, Virginia and my little brother, Brandon was born.

Brandon was born with special needs. He was also born with the greatest, sweetest personality ever. Growing up as the big sister to a brother was disabilities was at times challenging, but I wouldn't change him for anything.

When I was four, we moved to Seattle, one of my favorite places in the entire world. I had a wonderful childhood, full of all the fun things any childhood should have. I was a goofy, out going kid, with lots of spunk and very, very stubborn.


We moved to the Twin Cities when I was 11.

I went through my awkward, middle school phase (I'm fairly certain the shirt pictured below was actually one of those leotard-y things that snapped at the crotch):


Met this really tall, super uncoordinated and awkward guy named Andy at summer camp in 7th grade:


Survived high school, with the help of my best friend, Jersa (who is going to totally love that I put up the following pictures):



And went off to college, where I met and lived with these girls, who I am still incredibly close with (one of them is even now my sister-in-law, your auntie!):


While at college, I re-met that boy named Andy, who was just as tall, but slightly less awkward and much more attractive. Our first date was a "haunted hayride" the week before Halloween. We became completely inseparable after that.

I always said I would never be one of "those girls" that got married really young, right out of college. But that's just what I became. Dad proposed December of our senior year and I, of course, said yes.

We graduated, me with a degree in English Literature and Writing, Dad with his degree in Physical Education (they say opposites attract, right?):


On August 24th, 2007, we got married:


I started my first "real job" working in Development for a large nonprofit (www.voamn.org) that same summer. I still have it, planning events, like our big Adopt a Family event every winter:



The next summer, we got our first puppy!


When Foxy was five months old, we got Jackie (our little Craigslist bargain!):


We spent the next year and a half doing normal "young married couple things." Lots of movie nights, 4am runs to Taco Bell, happy hours, and going out with friends. Life was good.



Then, you came into our lives, and changed everything. And that was good too.

You made us happy and excited:


Then you broke our hearts:


But somehow...we survived. And emerged stronger than ever before.

Together, your dad and I are taking it step by step, day by day. I never thought my story would include a dead daughter, but I am excited to see what the rest of my story, my life, has is store for me. For us.


That's me, I guess. Daughter, wife, friend. Mother.

Oh how I wish I could watch you grow up and create your own story here, Baby. I miss you so much.

All my love,
Mom