Peek-a-Boo Grief

Thursday, February 19, 2009
I'm so tired. I'm so pregnant. I'm so hormonal.

The vacation high is wearing off.

Today I don't feel like facing my life. Physically, mentally...I'm too weary. No more fighting. No more being strong and putting on a brave face. Not today.

I received a book in the mail last night from a lovely gal who reads my blog. (Thank you, thank you, thank you. ALL OF YOU.) It is called "Comfort" A Journey Through Grief by Ann Hood (who also wrote The Knitting Circle). I cracked it open last night and am already half way through. Her writing is so compelling and raw...her experience so much like my own. And while I am completely enthralled in the book and can't seem to put it down, at the same time, it is ripping my heart open afresh. Today is an angry day. A day I feel sorry for myself and don't want to crawl out of my bed. Let me read these beautiful words and re-live my loss and ask as many questions as I want. Don't ask me to do anything. Anything at all. Please life, just give me rest. Give me comfort.

I can't look at your blog my sweet Cassie, or Heather, or Andrew, or Heidi, or Anna, or Brooke, or Kim, or you or you or you...and you.... anyone who hasn't lost a child. Because today it makes me angry. So angry that you have all of your children and get to live in that safe place with moments of pure, uninhibited bliss... Not knowing this all consuming monster of grief. I love you. Oh, how I love you, but I can't do it today. Today I can understand how Jenny felt when Jack was attacked by the neighbor dog--the horror, the child is in pain and danger! PLEASE SOMEONE SAVE THEM. I understand all too well, but I don't sympathize. Because you, sweet Jenny, got to keep your precious Jack. We all get to keep him here and we love him. But I wasn't so lucky. I don't want my loss to diminish my sympathy for others. But I haven't learned yet how to sympathize with almost. Only with gone. Finished. Goodbye.

Today I can't read the blogs about the love shared on Valentine's Day. Not because I wasn't showered with love and protection and gifts from my dear husband. But because ours was a day of holding on with our fingernails. Almost gripping each other in order to stay alive. Not a care-free joyous occasion. There is an empty chair at every occasion. Somehow I've lost a limb but appear complete on the exterior.

Grief is not linear. People kept telling me that once this happened or that passed, everything would be better. Some people gave me one year to grieve. They saw grief as a straight line, with a beginning, middle, and end. But it is not linear. It is disjointed. One day you are acting almost like a normal person. You may even manage to take a shower. Your clothes match. You think the autumn leaves look pretty, or enjoy the sound of snow crunching under your feet.

Then a song, a glimpse of something, or maybe even nothing sends you back into the hole of grief. It is not one step forward, two steps back. It is a jumble. It is hours that are all right, and weeks that aren't. Or it is good days and bad days. Or it is the weight of sadness making you look different to others and nothing helps. Not haircuts or manicures or the Atkins Diet.

...Grief doesn't have a plot. It isn't smooth. There is no beginning and middle and end.
-Ann Hood

No end. No end. No end.

I dreamed of her last night. She told me in the clearest, purest voice of a young woman, her arms wrapped around my neck, "I love you." Astonished and desperate I looked her in the eyes while pushing her in the grocery cart.."YOU DO?"

"Yes, I love you very much."

Oh, Lucy! You must have known how much I needed that reassurance. Please help me make it through my day at work and soften my heart. Even those who haven't lost a child still have heartache. Help me sympathize and not just cognitively understand.


  1. I wish I could just give you a great big hug! (((Hugs)))

  2. Love you Molly. My heart breaks for you. Each time you post, I hope it is a good day for you. Today is not. Hopefully tomorrow will be better for you.

  3. I don't know you but I am drawn to you because you are living my nightmare. I can't begin to sympathize but I couldn't leave this blog without saying as sincerely as I know how, if I could I would make it better. I hurt for you. I pray for you. Please know there are random people who really, really care.

  4. There is no road map. I'm so sorry for your loss. My losses are of a different nature. You are brave and amazing for sharing so much of yourself. My brother died in a car wreck at 15. My father commited suicide in 2004. All experiences are different but one thing I know for sure is that Anger is o.k. Just feel it for a while. Don't let anybody tell you it's not o.k.

  5. Grief is a journey without a road map. The only way to find healing, is to allow yourself to grieve. I'm sorry for the loss of your beautiful Lucy. Sometimes it's 2 steps forward and 5 steps back. God will cradle you safely is his hands. Gentle prayers for you today.

  6. Molly,
    Don't beat yourself up. You have every right to be angry. You have every right not to read any of our blogs (although, I do miss your comments...I remember your last two from a year ago very well.) Your trial is HUGE - ASTRONOMICAL. You're right. The rest of us have heart-ache, but it is not the heart-stomping, agonizing pain that you have. It's not the same and these things can't be compared that way. Today should be one of the worst ever for me, but I have come to know your trial all too well and mine is only a drop in your ocean. Don't worry - you are more to your friends than anyone could ever ask. You hold us up in ways you will never know. Just the fact that you even have the desire to sympathize with someone is an amazing act of kindness.

  7. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry :(

  8. Molly, even in this time of grief, your writing is just beautiful and Lucy, wow, she was just beautiful too! I can understand your pain, I haven't lived it, but I can imagine what your everyday life must be like and it hurts very badly. We have a family in our little small town here who just yesterday lost their 15 year old son. Went to school healthy and happy, had a heart attack during sports, they revived him, took him to a hospital in Dallas where he had another heart attack and major stroke which left him brain dead. He was brought home to hospice on Monday and left this earth on Wednesday morning. I know this isn't something you wanted to hear, but I wanted to share, it's weighing heaving on my mind, just like you'll do. Now his family has to learn to live a new normal. He was the youngest in their family.....I'll pray from them as I have for you. Love ya from East Texas, Pam.

  9. Your anger makes every kind of sense, Molly, and it's important to give yourself permission to feel it. You'll need to feel it before you can even begin to let it go, because your loss is beyond description. It just is. Few of us out here would trade griefs with you. Let's just say it. Losing a child is the very top entry on any mother's list of things she would least want to endure.

    So of course you're angry. But I don't think you have to worry too much about staying that way. It's clearly not your nature, and you will release it as soon as you can realistically do so. Then it will slowly build up again, and you will release it again, going through this cycle over and over until the anger and its release are not so hard to process because they are not so overwhelming. You will have become more accustomed to the rhythm of them. In my experience, that is the way of healing. Not linear, as you know all too well, but circular...cyclical, even, like waves. And yes, sometimes, disjointed.

    Waves of emotion sweep in and then recede, sweep in and then recede. I sometimes think that's why being at the ocean is so healing, because it encapsulates the process of dealing with life and emotions, both visually and auditorily. I even wrote a poem about it once. I hope you don't mind my sharing it with you.


    ©1994 by Susan Noyes Anderson, "The Lyric"

    What is this thing that draws me to the sea?
    What passion rises with each white-capped swell
    to churn upon a watery carousel
    and break in frothy secrets, spilling free?
    The foaming, reckless water quiets me
    in darkly hidden places, guarded well,
    probing the inner reaches of a shell
    whose pink walls glow with bright intensity.
    I love this ocean pounding on the shore,
    untamed and unashamed in all its might;
    It rolls and crests and dives and rolls some more,
    unbound by man and law and grief and fright.
    The sea engulfs me, draws my answering roar,
    sends waves of darkness crashing into light.

    I hope your waves of darkness crash into light soon, Molly.

    I know they will.

  10. I'm so very sorry about this pain that you are feeling. I wish there was something I could do to help ease it. It really isn't fair at all... and I'm sorry about that. I was just thinking about Lucy holding that tulip... I remember it from your post last year about Valentines Day. I will pray for you to be comforted. I love you.

  11. I just recently wrote a long post about the great trials of my life. I was abused as a child, and suffered greatly. I have a disease and have had three surgeries. We lost our business, our home, our cars. And those things matter, they do, they matter to me, and they are hard. Yet you are right, there is no comparison to the finality of the death of your beloved Lucy. and i would feel angry too, furious. i feel angry now, reading this. it's not FAIR. it's WRONG. i am so sorry for the weight of your loss, and my prayers are with you, and my mother's heart reaches out to yours in love.

  12. You will always have a right to hurt over others' blessings vs. your loss.

    But remember, the Savior feels that pain. So while it may hurt, you are not alone in it. You are never alone in it.

  13. Hi Molly, I'm a friend of Dave and Chars and read your blog faithfully. I love you guys and Lucy. She is trully one of the most gorgeous children ever. What a beautiful dream/ communication with Lucy. I'm sure it was so hard to wake up (wake up to the nightmare). I pray for you and think of you often. I worked at the Sharing Place, a grief program for families. We often referred to grief as waves in the ocean, somedays it is manageable but other times there are swells and unbearable. There is no timeline or wrong ways to grieve.

  14. Molly,

    I stumbled upon your blog a few months ago and have read the journey you've had to take. I feel so much love and sadness eminating from your writing. It is so real that it makes me ache. I must tell you, I had a dream the other day and Lucy was in it. I don't know how that would make you feel, but I thought I would share it with you. It was a lovely spring day and I was outside when I noticed Lucy playing on the grass. She came up to me and started dancing around. She was just as beautiful in my dream as her pictures on your blog. What a sweet face. I have no idea what you must be feeling. The loss of one child, the beginning of another life. I imagine you must just feel torn apart some days...the mix of sadness and grief and yet love and happiness. Molly, i'm so glad you have a wonderful relationship with our Lord. I cry for those that don't have what we do. Go outside and feel the sun shine on your face today and know that God loves you. You have so many friends that love and support you (even if you don't know some of them!). Peace-Brie

  15. Hi Molly :)
    I had to break my lurking and just say that I totally get what you are saying... I have never ever lost a living child but I've lost a LOT of pregnancies and I have been at the point where I can't handle baby showers/pregnant friends (especially if they complain)/blogs with baby due date tickers/the baby aisle at the store...even though I need diapers for my son.
    It's hard to HAVE those feelings and it is hard to just LET yourself feel them and not feel guilty or bad about having them. Of course you love your friends and you wouldn't wish your experience on any of them - or expect their lives to be put on hold - but it is hard to constantly see reminders of something you desperately want but don't have. I totally get it.
    I'm sending you hugs today :)

  16. Thank you for this beautiful post Molly. I've been struggling with some anger lately as well. The only thing that will help is the healing power of the Atonement. That is the only thing that can possibly ease your pain.

    I hope you find peace in the days to come.

  17. Molly, YOUR writing is compelling and raw. You and Vic both have an incredible gift in the way you write. Thank you for sharing your journey, even with those of us who do not understand.

    You are continually in the prayers of this stranger, among many, I am sure.

    With love, admiration and a heart that breaks for yours,


  18. Beautiful Molly, and you are Beautiful in so many ways, I am bawling for you, all out sobbing for what you have to feel, to endure, to miss, to yearn, to grieve. Lucy was an angel far before she ever died. She was an angel on earth. I can see it in her eyes. Perhaps I am sobbing for you right now because I feel my heart ripping into two completely seperate pieces. . . The spring terrifies me. The smells, the flowers that signify new life-because for us, it is not when our babies gained life, but lost theirs. I loved the passage you included on your post. Just know you are ENTITLED to feeling just the way you are. Don't feel guilty about it, just feel it and one day (that is different for everyone) when the really raw feelings subside you will find that you will be more compassionate than you ever were before. I do still struggle greatly with those who complain about "monetary" loss. Monetary loss is always recoverable, fixable. Where as for us, it's not fixable until either we die, or the second coming comes. You are so normal. I love you so much. I love Lucy so much. I know it's weird because I never knew her, but she has taught me so much through you that I have this deep love for her. I see her face and it's like I yearn to see her again. . .like I knew her before she passed. Love you Lots Molly.
    ps. It's really really hard to add all the pregnancy hormones when you are grieving. It enhanced my grief tremendously. Hopefully when you have Peter, where I know he will not take the place of Lucy he will fill your heart with happiness & hope that has been absent for a while now for you and Vic. I know the atonement can ease your pain, but I never found it possible to ease my grief until MUCH later in my grief. The beginnings is pain that just has to be felt so we can then later appreciate the depth of pain the Savior must have felt when he "felt the pain of the world." I am honored knowing my pain was included in that. Much love to you Molly & Vic.

  19. Molly I love you! Do you remember near the end of Steel Magnolias, when the mother gets so angry at the funeral of her daughter that she just wants to punch something? You can come punch me anytime! -Jenny

  20. As always, Molly, I love your writing - especially when it's just raw from the heart.
    I am so thankful to you for helping me understand the journey of grief that you are on. I, of course, could never wish to experience the extreme heartache you go through on a day-to-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute basis, but by allowing a glimpse into your pain, it helps people like me, people who have never lost a child, people who can only imagine it in a tiny way, understand a little more.
    Pray a little harder.
    And, most importantly, cherish our children more intently.
    Whenever I get bogged down by the little stresses of raising my girls, all I need to do is to go to your blog and you give me the perspective I am lacking.
    Thank you, thank you, thank you.
    We love you guys.

  21. Molly:
    I feel like I could have written all that you have written...know you are not alone in what you are feeling and going through. I'm right there with you...mad, insensitive to others etc. etc. Grief is awful! Someone said to me the other day that it's been about a year since Wyatt died so I should be over it and fine...they have no idea do they? Thanks for this post I needed to know today that I wasn't alone in this grief. I loved that quote from Ann Hood I just might need to get that book. Sounds like it would be a great one to read. Just wanted to send you a hug and let you know I think of you all the time. Lucy is the luckiest girl in the world to have such an amazing mother as you. Love ya!

  22. I have only commented once before, and I am a mere stranger to you. But I read your blog frequently, and I truly admire you. Your writing is eloquent and poignant. It tugs deep at any mother's heart-even mine, who hasn't suffered a loss. I am so so sorry your dear Lucy is away. I am sorry for the grief that doesn't leave. Please know though, even strangers pray for you and think of you daily. May your new baby (that is due the same day as mine) bring some peace to your soul. Much love and prayers.

  23. I just have no words ~ only tears, my heart aches for you.
    Sending love and a big hug, Tabitha XXX

  24. After my niece died I was wishing that our custom was to wear something to show that we were grieving a death. I didn't feel happy or want to say that I was fine when the grocery checker asked. I wished I could just have a sign on me that said, "I am grieving, be gentle with me." It is a rough and rocky road. Surround yourself with the people who love you and let you grieve in your own way and in your own time. There is no time limit to love.

  25. I'm starting to believe that six degree of seperation thing. My fun sister said she met you and just like me she is a Molly Jackson fan. She was telling me what a beautiful person you are. (I already knew). My insides hurt so much for you, I'm not claiming to know what your going through-I just want you to know your beautiful post today makes me want to jump in my car and show up on your doorstep...(Don't worry I won't) I'm just saying I wish there was something/anything I could do for you!
    Your in my prayers-

  26. Molly:
    Here is the quote about "No Empty Chairs" even before Wyatt died we decided it would be our family moto. We say it each night at the end of our family song after family scriptures. I had no idea a few years ago when I made this our family theme that it would have such meaning to us. I've thought of so many more meanings to this "No Empty Chairs" like you stated on the comment on our blog. We have had many family home evening lessons on this subject...even before Wyatt died. I feel like we were being prepared for what was going to happen.

    "No Empty Chairs"
    President Ezra Taft Benson said "God intended the family to be eternal. With all my soul, I testify to the truth of that declaration. May he bless us to strengthen our homes and the lives of each family member so that in due time we can report to our Heavenly Father in His celestial home that we are all there--father, mother, sister, brother, all who hold each other dear. Each chair is filled. We are all back home."
    Wyatt and Lucy have filled their we have to do our part to fill ours.
    Love ya!

  27. Molly--

    I know...I even know that I DON'T know... I don't know what it's like AT ALL, but there are times I'm playing with my little girl, or even times when I'm frustrated with her--a tantrum ensuing--and I think of you and I think "Molly would give anything to be dealing with the mother of all tantrums right now" and then a minute later it's gone and I know my day gets to go on in total splendor and I get to blog about light, happy things and make dinner without a constant hole in my heart. I know I've never dealt with this kind of grief, but even the little heartbreaks I've dealt with have taught me something about the all consuming pain you're dealing with and all I can do, all I can offer is a little prayer each time I think about you and hope that somehow these little prayers are helping.

    And I'm so glad you are so honest with your pain.

    God bless you Molly and Vic.

  28. I stumbled upon your blog through another blog and have been checking in on you every once in awhile. Your little Lucy is beautiful. Noone should ever dismiss your feelings - they are what they are. However, even though noone will ever take Lucy's place in this life or in your heart I do believe your void will be somewhat filled when your little Peter arrives. You will have new life in your arms and there is always something spiritual and fullfilling with that. There is no time limit on grief, but I do hope and pray that Peter will bring you a new hope and on the day of his birth you too will be reborn. You are in my prayers.

  29. It is so so so okay that you feel that way. And I'm so sorry.

  30. I am so sorry ..I am thinking of you and your sweet Lucy...Anything I can think of to say seems so, so insignificant to what I feel when I read your blog, my heart along with my eyes just weep for for you...

  31. Molly-
    I'm a stranger... but a friend. I'm so touched and reminded of a time in my life that resembles some of your grief. I lost a baby at 5 months, a little boy, I went through labor in a room next to a SCREAMING woman in labor. I only remember thinking, "at least she's getting a baby out of this, if I ever am able to have another baby I'll suffer labor so quietly, with a smile on my face knowing I'll be delivering a 'live' baby... one I can take home!". It 'hurt' for a long time, it consumed my every thought for a long time. I had 18 pregnancies and 4 wonderful live births that I TREASURE every day of my life! They are all grown and having babies of their own and NEED me all the time... I need that. I have been blessed with a sensitivity like most can never appreciate. I did give my grief to the Savior many times when I felt it would overcome me. You are blessed to be able to share a little time with her in your dreams...tender mercies of the Lord. Keep writing. It heals and blesses the lives of others trying to cope... even 29 years later. Thank you.

    I am praying for more tender mercies for you. Sweet dreams.

  32. I am feeling your sorrow.
    May comfort come to you soon...


  33. Molly,
    Thank you for your words...I too have been struggling. I find comfort in those who are on this road with me...It's comforting to not be alone in this...this road of grief...though I sure hope no one else joins us...I sure don't wish that! I hope you don't mind that I took your quote and put it on my blog too...I noticed Andrea did too...didn't realize that until after I posted. I guess we are all feeling similiar emotions at the moment. Hope to meet you one day.
    (Evan from Heaven's mom)

  34. Molly,
    You are living my worst fear. I was struggling the other night and found this quote. I wanted to share it with you since your pain has to be unbearable. It is by James E. Faust

    “As we live on earth we must walk in faith, nothing doubting. When the journey becomes seemingly unbearable, we can take comfort in the word of the Lord: ‘I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold I will heal thee’ (2 Kings 20:5). Some of the healing may take place in another world. We may never know why some things happen in this life. The reason for some of our suffering is known only to the Lord.”

    I am sorry you have to suffer so much.

    With love,

  35. Hi Molly,
    My email is live far from you...I would love to connect.

  36. I loved your post. I relate to what you are feeling all to often. I think you are amazing and I know Lucy LOVES YOU! The best dreams are when our angels come to just say I LOVE YOU! It makes my heart melt knowing you got that reassurance, they seem to come when we need them most. I know our angels miss us too!

    Sending you Hugs,
    Jen (Angel Kamber's Mommy)

  37. Oh Molly, my heart aches for you! I was laying in bed this morning feeling sorry for myself because Jeremy has been out of town for 4 weeks (except on the weekend) and I was thinking how my friends that have husbands around right now don't understand the loneliness and burnt out feelings I am feeling. Then my thoughts turned to you - You must feel daily that no one understands your pain. That each day people go on living their lives, stressing over little hills (like a busband being out of town!) while you are dealing with a mountain. Please know that you are always in our thoughts and prayers. I don't understand what you are going through, but I do know that it is huge!

    Love you!

  38. I am feeling your same pain this Valentine's Day. It just isn't fair. I am so glad that you got to see her in your dreams and she told you that she loved you. What a little blessing. She is beautiful. I love you.

  39. I am so sorry. I am so sorry. She is the most beautiful little person. She CERTAINLY loves you, Molly. I have never met you or your daughter, and yet every photo and every anecdote shows that so clearly.

    You know, she couldn't have been such a bright, brave, valiant spirit without such an astonishingly smart, superhumanly strong mom. You feel what you feel, and you hang in there. Praying for you and your lovely family.

  40. Molly,
    I don't blame you at all for not looking at mine and other's blogs and being angry. When I put myself in your shoes, I'm mad at me too. It doesn't seem fair that others can forget your loss periodically and go on with their lives, while you can never really escape it. I'm so sorry. For whatever it's worth, I think of you often and mourn your loss. Of course Lucy loves you, of course she does. You are a beautiful family. Forever.

  41. Molly and Vic,
    I've never commented on your blog before, though I read often. I'm so often inspired by the things that you write and those days my hope for you is that things will be better tomorrow, next month and next year. Today as I read, I just wished that this had never happened to you. You have a beautiful daughter and a very lucky son on his way! You are so often in my thoughts and prayers.

  42. I should have the perfect thing to tell you, but I don't. I wish my heart had a better language with actual words I could say! Just know I am thinking about you and praying for you!
    Diana Fischer Caydin's mom

  43. Seriously. Tears in my eyes. You are amazing. Such strength. I haven't lost a child. Well, not one that was born to us. Only an unborn child. But sometimes I have days when I feel the same - when I feel like I can't look at the blogs of my dear friends (whom I love so much) who have children when we can't seem to get one here. I always can look here, though, and feel so uplifted. Thank you Molly, for your example and your strength.

  44. Molly,
    You dont know me, but I understand the pain you are going thru. Nothing takes away the pain that you are feeling. A quote that I found has given me a bit of hope though. I want to share it with you.

    "Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."
    — C.S. Lewis

    With love,
    Paige Sinclair

  45. Molly, You don't know me but I found your blog last night and I was sucked in for hours reading your beautiful thoughts about grief and loss and recovery. I feel like I know you now. I read the blog for hours before I forced myself to go to bed. I dreamed about Lucy and I couldn't stop thinking about the amazing gift that she gave to all of those families who received her organs. With this thought heavy on my mind this morning, I looked at the blog of some friends of my sister in Utah. They have a sweet eleven month old baby girl with a defective heart. They just found out that they found a donor heart and she is in surgery as I write this to receive her transplant. It was so amazing to me to read their blog just the day after reading yours and to see the story from the other side of the transplant story. I have never left a comment on the blog of a person I don't personally know, but I felt compelled to tell you how touched I am by your story and to send you a link to this family who is getting this miracle in their life because of someone like you.

    I pray everyday that I never have to go through something like are going through, but if I am ever called to do so I would hope that I could handle it with half as much grace and candor as you have. My heart is forever changed by your story and you and Vic and Peter are in my prayers.

  46. And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them. (Ether 12 :27)

    Some of us will struggle with the same weaknesses for a lifetime. You may never be able to sympathize with another persons "almost" grief. My faith rests in the idea that my goal is to do the best with what I have and give everything else to the Lord. You can rest on me for that if you need to.


  47. I hope you know that you are so loved!

  48. hi molly,
    It's katie. I wish there could be less loss for all of us. I wish I could help you. You must live so closely to the veil of heaven-I have often been angered by my "inability" to see or receive visits from those I've lost in this life; in a dream, or a vision...whatever you are doing, don't stop!

  49. I don't know you, but I was told by many people to read your blog. Although I cannot relate to the pain that you are experiencing right now, I just want you to know that you are in my prayers. I am a strong believer that God gives us angels to help us through life. I know that your sweet little girl is there with you all of the time to watch over and protect to and will send people in your path to help you throughout your life. I am so sorry for your loss.

  50. PS. i read this yesterday, and i am positive you have already heard it... but just in case...

  51. You don't know me but, Oh how I love to read your blog. Only 4 days after the passing of your sweet Lucy, I lost my 2 year old little girl, Carissa! I love to read other blogs who have lost children. I truly feel your pain, and sorrow. Only those who have lost children know the grief that comes with that loss. Reading your posts has so much truth, and things that I think about a lot and cannot express. Just know that you give others comfort and strength in your words. You can read about my little girl on my blog: have to go back to June 2008)
    I love all the pictures of your sweet little girl, she was adorable and truly and Angel. Also I was wondering how do you get invited to the angels among us blog? I would love to read and be uplifted by many. May God bless you and your family, and just know...there are truly Angels Among Us. Elisa

  52. Holly,

    Thank you so much for taking the time to comment on my blog. It's so nice to make a new friend in "blog world."

    My heart breaks for you. I can only imagine the grief, I am so grateful you have an army of friends and family lifting you through this. I have come to see that friends and family truly are what help to lighten our load, and most of all, our Savior and the truths taught from Him. How lucky we are to know what we know, to have the eternal plan laid out for us.

    I will know be checking in on your blog often. I will add you and your family to our prayers.

    Best Wishes,


  53. Molly and Vic you are so loved. Loved here on this crazy earth (53 loving lines on this blog post...i don't even know 53 people ;)!!!)...but you are loved beyond the veil too.

    It is ok to be mad. It is ok to be sad. What you are facing is beyond most of us to comprehend. You can be anything you want with no apologies.

    Cancun looked amazing. Your pictures made me smile. Thank you!

  54. Your grief will be with you forever.
    Write only happy thoughts on you blog. Write sad thoughts on paper, then burn the paper. One day you will have only happy thoughts and a memory of a sad time. You are not alone, you just think you are. It will get better.

  55. We love you Molly and we all really miss lil Lucy. I hope you are doing well. You look beautiful!

  56. Strange. I found your blog through a google search, because I'm trying to put together a family home evening kit for a family who lost a baby to miscarriage at 16 weeks in October (so would be due this month), and now just learned she has stomach cancer. I feel your words about not having the same depth of sympathy for other people's trials. I recently wrote a post on my own blog titled ALMOST, so I really do "get it".
    My blog is my "black hole", raw emotions, so if you only like to read happy things don't bother to stop by. ;) Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts. Others like me appreciate feeling not so alone in the difficult journey of grief. It's nice to know there are other people out there who "get it".


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