A Letter from an Absentee Blogger


I haven’t posted in a Long. Time. Really long. I know how long but won’t say. Why not? Many reasons. And it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. I can’t tell you how often I throw together a recipe and think, I should write this down for the blog! Or do a craft or make a homemade perfume or cream I love and think the same thing. Or just have something I think might speak to someone or something I simply want to put out into the world, but I just don’t. Even this photo. I took it and added the scripture later that evening, having almost written the post in my mind. Maybe a year ago? Longer? And I never did. And I have no idea why.

The easiest reason. Life. I don’t make a living blogging. I do make a living running a transportation business with my husband. We have a five-year old. That we homeschool. Life is busy. So why write now? To break the silence maybe? (Cue awkward laugh.)

I came across the aforementioned picture and it seemed pretty appropriate. I remember taking it. I was on an airport run for our car service, and went to a park across the street from the airport in San Diego to wait on a flight. Having had a bad day, the water seemed soothing. It was so calm yet there was quite a breeze blowing, and this scripture from the Bible came to mind. And I thought about how life can blow at us it seems but it doesn’t always have to stir us up.

Another saying came to mind this evening as I was mulling over the idea for this post that I heard once…Sometimes you’re the Beemer, and sometimes you’re the [gosh-darn] deer. In other words, you either hit something and get a little banged up but then fix the dent, reapply the paint, and move on. And sometimes you’re impaled through the windshield. Or worse. Ever feel like the deer? I do a lot. And who wants to hear about that? But we’re all human, aren’t we?

I started this blog because I thought I was ready to write about the two boys we lost and I wasn’t. Then I began to learn more about my health and some health issues and began to write about that, but my heart wasn’t totally in it. So I began to focus on another idea and passion. I love jewelry. I started making it for myself years ago and for gifts every once in a while and then decided to sell it. I was planning my online shop before I even started the blog but didn’t actually open it until almost two years ago. I was beyond excited and I had worked so hard.

I closed the shop about eight months ago. I’m still heartbroken over it. All that time and all that effort and two sales. Both to people I know. I cried for days but those weren’t the first tears I had shed over it. I felt like I had wasted all that time. And I felt like a huge, unbelievable failure. It’s not my first business attempt that has failed. Or the second. Or third. It’s the fourth. It wears on you after a while. My creative juices just stopped. My little corner of our office became a war zone. I’m not kidding. Like an episode of hoarders. And it was how I felt on the inside. Just a huge mess. A pile of a whole lot of nothing that had started as several somethings I thought were pretty spectacular.

I’ve tackled it and it’s still a bit of a mess but I finally cleared a space, got out my bead board, and made a piece of jewelry. A necklace for my mom for Mother’s Day. It felt so good to create something again. And so I made another; something different for my mother-in-law. Then I sat down and repaired several pieces of my own that needed help. Even those felt good. I have so many ideas and no idea what to do with them. Or with the inventory I have. I keep telling myself I need to sign up for a craft fair or something but never do.

Another huge passion of mine is painting and art is part of my brand name tag line that laughs at me every time I see it. I haven’t painted in a very long time. I want to but haven’t. Maybe it’s rejections. My last attempt into the art world made me feel very much like the splattered deer. But it’s in my heart so on the tag line it stays until I have the gumption to pick up my brush again.

Rejection is awful. I haven’t submitted any of my writing anywhere in longer than I care to admit. Somehow people think it’s encouraging to send me stories of authors that finally get a book published after eight or nine publishers and a year or two. Yeah…I passed that like a hundred publishers and fifteen years ago. And I wonder, what am I doing? Am I wasting my life? Maybe, but then what else am I supposed to do with it? Writing is one of the few things that has been a solid part of my identity and one of the only things I have ever been sure I want to do with my life.

I’ve stuck with it this long because I feel in my heart it is my calling and I wouldn’t feel such a desire to do it if I wasn’t supposed to, but it’s still hard. I need to start submitting again, but again, rejection is hard. And sometimes you need a break. Which brings me back to the jewelry. I closed the shop because it had become a source of stress for me. I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. So I took a step back. As I said, I’m still heartbroken, so part of that is not talking about it. Believe me, bring it up to me in person and in seconds, I’ll likely be in tears. That’s how raw it still is. I can’t even describe it.

The last couple of years have taken a toll. I’ve had a lot of physical and emotional issues that have come up and they have been hard to deal with. And I am actually a very private and introverted person. The worse I feel, typically the more into myself I go. I’ll admit. A lot of my blog posts like this are simply a pretty pathetic attempt at putting myself out there. Feeling lonely and dejected and hoping maybe someone will read it and get something from it.

How are your waters? Still? Turbulent? Are you wading up to your ankles or drowning? As pathetic as an attempt as this may be, these words have been stirring in me a long time and some of my most emotional posts just suddenly feel like they have to be written. I believe that means they need to be written. That there is someone that will come across because they need to read it. Or so I hope.

So anyway, there you go. Hello again. In closing, I suddenly thought of a quote from a favorite movie I’ve been known to quote often… Sometimes I wonder about my life. I live a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder. Do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So, goodnight, dear void.

Until next time,

November 17, 2014 ~ World Prematurity Day


A year ago today I began my blog! While in the midst of setting up my website and such I learned November 17 is World Prematurity Day. The month of November is also Prematurity Awareness Month, and I remember getting goose bumps. It seemed so fitting! Part of the reason I was starting a blog was to share my story.

I am the mama of three premature babies and it is from them my blog and company gets its name. Christopher, Jr. (Precious One) was born on December 9, 2003 at only 22 weeks. He lived for 63 minutes before passing away in my arms. Joshua James (Blessing) was born on April 28, 2010, also at 22 weeks; he passed away moments before he was born but left an eternal mark on my heart. They both did. Their brother, Henry Lynn (Blessing) was born on August 8, 2011 at 32 weeks. Henry not only survived but thrived and we thank God every day for our miracle baby.

The name comes from their nicknames we gave them in utero before we knew they were boys. We didn’t want to simply call them it or the baby. We still call Henry Blessing. There is so much more to all three of their stories and over the last year I have struggled to write them and they are still coming. It is an odd thing; I have no trouble talking about them. All three of them have very emotional stories that somehow are very difficult to put onto paper. So bear with me. Even Henry’s is not an easy story to tell, though his has a happy ending. Getting there was a long, emotional, and at times painful journey that is not easy to tell and relive.

My blog has made quite a transformation. It has turned into more of a health/food blog of late, which was not my intention, but there have been a lot of health changes in my body that I am making for the better and some things are exciting, others just plain interesting, so I share that. Times like this, though, make me think of the other reason I have decided to share my heart with you – my three beautiful boys.

I am a mother of three. Not one. Christopher and Joshua left permanent marks on my heart and holes in our family only they can fill. As active and loud as Henry, a typical three-year-old boy can be you may be surprised to hear sometimes our house seems too quiet. Because it should be so much more active. It’s hard not to think that way at times. I miss them every day.

March of Dimes does amazing work and is working hard to learn about, raise awareness, and hopefully prevent premature birth and they were asking for stories so I made this to share:


I love sharing Henry’s success. He is a miracle. No doubt about it. I lost count how many times we feared we might lose him. There were midnight emergency room visits at 19 and 22 weeks, with me contracting, and I was admitted to the hospital at 24 weeks, with them sure I was going to deliver – but I made it 8 more weeks of daily contractions and hosts of other issues, amazing and astounding the doctors and nurses. He is a miracle. Despite the odds stacked against him – and me – we made it through it together and he is here and absolutely wonderful. I still sometimes stare at him in amazement that this beautiful little boy is really here and he is mine.

Then I thought something was missing. Not every prematurity story has a happy ending. They weren’t asking for those, and I understand why, but the fact is not every story has a happy ending and as I already stated I am a mother of THREE, not just one. So I created this for my angel babies:


If you are one of the millions of mamas or daddies grieving today instead of rejoicing in thankfulness then I send hugs to you. I got my happy ending, but I ache every day for the two precious boys I will never see grow up. I spent a few wonderful hours with them trying to squeeze in a lifetime of love. My husband and I had to say hello and goodbye all at once to those two sweet angels and they may be gone but they will never be forgotten. Today is for you too.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I look forward to continuing to share it with you.