I’m learning

This week, I am honored to have Amy, from Transplanted Thoughts, as my guest poster for Small Moments Mondays.

Amy has lived through more unspeakable sadness than many of us can even begin to imagine.

Her story is unfathomable and overwhelming.

Her story inspires and brings hope.

Her story exemplifies survival and optimism.

To say that she is strong diminishes her. To say that she is brave doesn’t begin to cover it.

Amy is a survivor…she is truly remarkable.

To learn more about Amy and her lovely family, please read That MorningLucky Scars, and Peppermint Ice Cream Love, just a few more pieces of her beautiful writing.

Thank you for sharing this small moment with us, Amy. Thank you for continually showing us what it means for life to continue…thank you for showing us how to find joy in the small moments. I am so incredibly grateful to you.

I’m Learning — by Amy

I used to be good at juggling.

Juggling my time and that of my 6 children, that is. The two oldest kids live out of state and 3 of the 4 little ones at home were dealing with health issues. 6 kids demanded that I be an organized, get it done kind of mom. In addition to family life, there was time spent running my sewing business.

I thrived on being busy and like most moms ‘my’ time was had after the kids were in bed. This was time spent sewing, chatting online or cleaning up the house.

When I had all four boys at home, I dreamed of the time when they would all be in school and I would have some free time on my hands. I had even figured it out. David would have started preschool the year Jacob entered fifth grade. Zachary would be in Kindergarten, Jonathan in 3rd. I admit I now feel guilty for looking forward to that day. In my mind it’s turned into a warped – “Be careful what you wish for kind of thing.”

Now that I only have 3 of my sons left at home, it breaks my heart that I have all this time on my hands.

And no desire to push myself doing menial tasks just to fill that time.

Sometimes I catch myself staring off into space. I abruptly come to and wonder where the last hour or so wandered away to. Especially in the afternoons after I’ve gotten Zachary down for his nap and the big boys have yet to arrive home from school. This quiet time around the house paralyzes me, draws me into it’s catatonic embrace and doesn’t let me go.

Night-time is the absolute worst for me. I am a night owl by nature and the time spent after the boys fall asleep has always been my most productive. While I still find myself awake at 1 or 2 in the morning, nothing on my “To Do” list has been crossed off.

Once, I had the drive to pack as much as possible into each and every day.

Now, most days are celebrated by simply making it through.

I’m learning to say that’s okay.

I’m learning to embrace the slowness that only grief can impose. The slowness that makes me more attentive to my boys. Once toys and videos were a means to keep the kids busy while I accomplished another task. Now spending that time with the boys has become the priority.

I’m learning to say that it’s okay that the house isn’t spotless because I chose to hang out with the boys instead.

I’m learning to say that it’s okay if I spend the day in my pj’s just because I need to.

I’m learning to say that there is life after the death of a child.

It’s just not the same life.

And that’s okay.


Now, please go follow Amy on Twitter and like her on Facebook.


  1. MamaRobinJ farewellstranger.com

    Amy, you inspire me. This is beautiful and you're right – it's okay.

  2. Kris prettyalltrue.com

    You are learning to embrace the slowness that only grief can impose?


    I am all teary.

    An amazing post.

  3. Nancy C npoj.blogspot.com

    Powerful, indeed. And a good reminder from a fellow "wisher." I have wished so much joy away in my past because I don't live in the moment. Thank you for the reminder.

  4. Kim thechild-kim.blogspot.com/

    This is so universal, this future thinking. All the way over here in a small city in Canada I can completely relate to you.

  5. K

    Another beautiful piece, Amy. Thank you for opening up your heart to us like this.

  6. Lori, YCT yourchildtalking.com

    Few things are as generous as these words right here.

    They speak an incredible commitment.

    So, so lovely.

  7. Lyndsey

    I can't imagine….thank you for the reminder to let it go and to spend precious time with our family.

  8. This post is beautiful. A gift, really. With an impossible price.
    I am left speechless.

  9. BalancingMama

    I began following Amy when I heard about her sweet boy's struggle. She never ceases to amaze me. Another heart-wrenching yet uplifting post. Thx for sharing!

  10. OMGosh! What a powerful, touching, heart-breaking post. I can't imagine losing a child. I can't imagine that emptiness and still having to get through my day w/o them. This is amazing. You are amazing. Blessing to you and your family.

  11. Torkona torkona.blogspot.com

    that was really well written by Amy.. I've got this award she might be interested in for parents: The Torkona Award. Your First Born Birth Story. You might be interested too. it's still running.. so, its there to win for any parents if your interested.

    great post, I recommend getting Amy on board often with guest posting ;-)

    – tork

  12. Amy transplantedthoughts.com

    Thank you to everyone who has posted such kind words. Your love and support is so appreciated.

  13. multitaskingmumma

    I've loved your words for a long time.
    I'm sending you love, support, and my thoughts.
    All good things lovely you.

  14. Rachel mommyneedsavacation.com

    Powerful, powerful post. Wow…

    And yes, it is OKAY to stay in your PJ's all day!

  15. Sherri

    What an emotional post and one we all could stand to read again and again….on those days that seem to never end, during those sibling tussles that we'd love to just ignore.

    Because there's a flip side to those days. The emptiness if they were gone.

    My heart goes out to you, and thank you for sharing your beautiful words here today.

  16. tulpen

    It has to be ok. For the boys. For you.

    Lovely post.

  17. TheJackB thejackb.com

    Sometimes I think that the best part of blogging is the opportunity to open up and engage with others regarding those hard and sometimes awful moments in our lives. I think that there is something about this cyberworld that really encourages camaraderie and I hope that in some small way it helps you.

  18. Katie sluiternation.com

    a slowness only grief can impose.


    i know this slowness. Much love to you.

  19. Lady Jennie aladyinfrance.com

    I have tears in my eyes, even though I know your story so well by now.

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