I sit on the hard bench in the warm sun watching two of our chosen children run the field in the 5 year old soccer game. Lane is running down the field with his arms pumping with a might I’ve never seen before. His little brother Evan trails behind the whole team seeming a bit lost as he is technically a year too young to be playing. Both of them smile the whole game shining pure joy everywhere. I snap a few pictures with my nice camera to be able to send to my friend Sam lat

Little Bobby rounds second base and darts towards third. This is his first season of kid pitch baseball and he just lined a shot over the first base bag. As the ball begins creeping towards the outfield fence Bobby rounds second while glancing up and to see the third base coach waving him home. The outfielder’s throw is on its way. Bobby approaches home while stealing a glance at the incoming throw. It is going to be close. He slides head first to the right of the catcher who

For generations, there was silence. Miscarriage, stillbirth and infertility were things you just didn’t talk about. It was “private business” and not for public discussion. Then, there were whispers. We light candles and speak softly about lost babies and difficulties conceiving. These are hushed conversations, if there are even conversations at all. Sometimes it’s posts on our Facebook walls. Sometimes it’s very brief mentions of hard times when catching up with friends. It’

Of the five stages of grief, I tend to linger in anger the longest. After I miscarried my first child, I simmered with anger for weeks, furious at the world for a variety of reasons. Infused with my old energy now that my pregnancy was no longer exhausting me, I attacked my home in an effort to clean my way to healing. In all my furious scrubbing of baseboards, though, I never once stopped to ask my husband how he was handling the loss. After all my introspection and self-dis