Losing a Child: Always Andy's Mom

He should be here. Today's guest, Lindsay, says that these are the four most impactful words that have been said to her in the year since her 6-month-old son, Chase, died from bacterial meningitis. These words don't try to cheer her up or remind her of some grand plan. They simply acknowledge the wrongness of the whole situation. Lindsay's family no longer feels complete without Chase. Smiling 'Chasey' should be tagging along, trying to keep up with his big brother, Jack. Chase should be here. From the time her two boys were tiny babies, Lindsay would read to them. She loved reading board books by Nancy Tillman, especially 'On the Night You Were Born' and 'Wherever You Go: My Love Will Find You.' This second book begins with the line, 'I wanted you more than you'll ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go.' The book goes on to describe how the mother's love will follow the child wherever he or she goes, whether it be going swimming, climbing trees, or marching in parades. It reminds the child that as they grow, their mother's love will continue to follow them throughout life. The last line of the book reads, 'You are my angel, my darling, my star, and my love will find you wherever you are.' Since Chase's death, Lindsay has truly realized the truth of that little board book. The book was certainly not written for grieving parents, but we can hold fast to the words of that book, can't we? Death does not end our love for our children. Our love continues to follow them after death.  Lindsay's love for Chase has followed him all the way to heaven. In the year since Chase died, her love for Chase has not diminished. Her love has continued to grow just as it does for all mothers. On Chase's birthday, Lindsay now donates 70 copies of 'Wherever You Go: My Love will Find You' to the NICU where she works and Baby Chase once stayed.  Certainly, Chase should be here as a laughing, smiling toddler, but as she sees parents read these books to their new babies, Lindsay remembers that their love for each other continues to grow, and these books will help spread that love even further.

I feel like God arranges for certain guests to come on the podcast just when I need them most. On the day of this interview, I was particularly weepy, missing Andy even more than I normally do. I think God knew I needed someone to cry with, and Nancy was that someone. Nancy calls her son, Jacob, her Buddha baby, weighing 11 pounds 3 ounces at birth. The bib that they brought with them to the hospital would not even fit around his neck. However, that was not the only reason Jacob was called her Buddha Baby. Even as an infant, Jacob seemed to be a calming presence to everyone around him.  Shortly after graduating from high school, Jacob was feeling a bit tired while working a new job. He noticed a lump that was quickly determined to be lymphoma. However, cancer did not slow him down. Jacob was determined to keep living his best life and even started school after his diagnosis. When beginning a new cancer treatment, it was expected that he would be in the hospital for a relatively short stay and then move on with life. In fact, at 19 years of age, Jacob would only let Nancy stay a certain number of hours each day so he could have some privacy. Suddenly, one evening after Nancy went back to her hotel, everything changed. In a matter of hours, Jacob suffered severe complications from the treatment, leading to brain swelling. Jacob, her amazing teenage Buddha, was gone. In the five months between Jacob's death and this interview, Nancy feels as if she has been living in a fog. She finds that she just wants to keep moving and walking constantly. At times, she wondered if she would even be able to make it back home. Tears still come daily. She has joined support groups, where she talks to other bereaved mothers who get it. She listens to my podcast during long walks. Nancy talks to Jacob and looks for signs of him in nature. So in today's episode, we talked about and cried for our boys. She understood my pain, and I understood hers, and after an hour of talking and crying, I knew that we both felt just a little bit better. So thank you, God, for sending Nancy just when we needed each other most.

Grief and Laughter. At first glance, it may seem like these words could be considered polar opposites, but as we grieve, moments of laughter and joy can be a balm for the soul. The intense pain of grief oftentimes feels overwhelming. It is deep and dark, and it can feel like it will go on forever. I remember the first time that I laughed after Andy died. I felt tremendous guilt. Andy was dead. I felt like I should never laugh again. I should be sad every moment of every day. But that is not how we were made. We were created to be beings that felt joy and happiness. My mind wouldn't let me stay in the darkness continuously, and that is a good thing. Laughter can bring a tremendous release of emotions in much the same way that crying brings release. Most people do not feel guilty when they cry during grief, but laughter can cause guilt. My hope is to help people learn that laughter is amazing medicine for the soul and not something to avoid.  This week's podcast is an edited release of the Livestream with Gwen. (If you tuned in and had a difficult time listening due to technical problems, I apologize. This version is much better!) Gwen shares her wisdom on the benefits of laughter and learning to reintroduce laughter into our lives while still navigating through the depths of our pain. We are certainly not suggesting that someone can simply let go of their grief and choose to be happy. (Many people have said those words to me, and frankly, that is simplistic and absurd.) We are asking you to seek out moments of laughter and joy. Seek out people in your life who make you feel good, even if it's only for a few hours or a few minutes. For me, the best people to laugh with are actually other bereaved parents. It feels safe to laugh with them, knowing that they will not judge me if I laugh and cry at the same time. Having those people and moments in your life may help make the pit of grief feel a little less dark and help you feel a little less alone.

Today's guest, Catherine, says that in many ways, she grieved for her daughter, Helen, not once but twice. The grieving began after she suffered complications during delivery, which led to seizures that began shortly after birth and multiple medical complications. Catherine grieved for the life she had hoped and dreamed of for Helen. Then, fourteen years later, Catherine's grief started fresh when Helen died unexpectedly in her sleep. Although Catherine says that she grieved Helen twice, Helen's 14 years were not years full of sadness and grief. They were joy-filled years. Catherine loved being Helen's hands and feet. She loved seeing her eyes light up and give big smiles. Catherine was a part of Helen, and Helen was a part of her. One day, when Helen was young, the two of them were watching TV, and Catherine saw the inspirational story of Team Hoyt, a father-son duo who competed in over 1,100 races, including numerous Ironman Triathlons. Son Rick suffered from cerebral palsy, but said that when racing in a specialized wheelchair with his dad, Dick, he felt freedom and joy. After Helen died, Catherine felt lost. She did not know what to do with herself without Helen being beside her. When asking her priest for advice, he answered that he didn't know what she should do, but that for many, participation in sport could be a good healing modality. That's when Catherine began to think once again about the inspirational story of the Hoyts. She knew that she couldn't physically swim, run, and bike with Helen, but perhaps she could still be with her emotionally. That's exactly what Catherine did. Her first triathlon was done almost secretively, with only her husband's knowledge. As she waited in the water of the lake at the beginning of the race, wondering if she had made a mistake in signing up, until the sun began to rise, and she felt Helen with her.  Over the years, Catherine has continued to train and now races in an Ironman triathlon each year, following in the Hoyts' footsteps. She compares the training to her life, first as a mom of a special needs child and now as a bereaved mom. She chronicles her journey in her book, Finding My Stride: A Guide to Finding Power Raising a Child with Special Needs.

Belief expansion. As they navigate life, all adults develop a core set of beliefs. When tragedy strikes, sometimes these core beliefs can be shaken. Some grieving people lose their sense of spirituality, while others gain a deeper, stronger faith after experiencing trauma. Dave was trained as a therapist, but nothing in his training prepared him for his 18-year-old daughter, Jeannine's cancer diagnosis and death. He grew up in the Christian church with some Christian traditions, but Dave's core values and beliefs were grounded in science. Dave realized in the months and years after Jeannine's death, he needed more. Science alone did not bring him the comfort or peace he needed.  Dave says by pure serendipity, an interfaith minister named Patty entered his life. (I like to think this was by divine intervention, but I digress.) Dave had a spiritual experience with Patty that changed his life forever. Over the next ten years, Dave began exploring more and more ideas of spirituality with Patty and others. Dave said that he began to realize he did not have to abandon his core beliefs and values to adopt additional beliefs that aligned with and complemented his perspective. Dave now asks himself, "What can I add here that is going to help me get through this part of my life?" He truly feels that if he had continued in the old set of beliefs that he had when Jeannine died, he would not be where he is today. Dave said,  "My journey demanded that I needed to embrace different perspectives about how I saw myself, how I saw the world, and how I saw my values if I was going to reengage in life again while still honoring my grief." Dave wrote a book about his experiences and conversations with Patty called, 'When the Psychology Professor Met the Minister," available on Amazon. He also now hosts a podcast, The Teaching Journeys (listen for me on an upcoming episode). On the podcast, Dave continues his own journey of belief expansion by learning from the stories of others who have experienced challenges in life. Dave says, "We are all students and teachers...let's learn from each other." I cannot think of a more amazing way to learn.

Near the end of today's interview, my guest, Miranda, said one of the most beautiful sentences that I have ever heard from a bereaved mom, especially one who is only 9 months into her grief journey. Miranda said, "Denver's death is going to be my reason, not my excuse - my reason to get up, my reason to do, my reason to survive, and my reason to love." Denver was a happy, healthy toddler who had just celebrated his first birthday when he died from accidental suffocation while he slept. His birthday theme just weeks before had been 'One Happy Dude,’ so Miranda and her family used the decorations for his funeral. His funeral was full of yellow smiley faces and lots of bright colors. The family handed out smiley face pins at the funeral.  Every summer, their hometown of Medicine Hat, Alberta, has a hot air balloon festival. This year, Miranda had the idea that one of the pilots might be able to take a picture of Denver up in a brightly colored hot air balloon during he festival. By the time the festival began, all thirty hot air balloons contained pictures of Denver. Many of the balloonists are international and continue to bring the picture of Denver with them as they fly all over the world. This month, Denver's picture is flying with a hot air balloon over Italy.  I have shared many times about bringing Andy's teddy bear with us as we travel to help us have a symbol of Andy with us. Continuing to live and make happy memories without him is challenging. Living without Denver's smile and laugh each day is extremely difficult, yet Miranda continues to get up and try. She, too, often travels with a little teddy bear she can hug when the pain of missing Denver feels too great.  Miranda's goal is to try to keep on living in the best way that she can - her reason to live and not her excuse. Each day still contains tears for Denver, but the tears no longer flow all day. She tries to look for smiley faces around her as she thinks of Denver's little picture flying in hot air balloons. Every time I see a hot air balloon, I will wonder if a little bit of Denver might be up there in its basket.  

When today's guests, Andy and Kristen, lost their almost 2-year-old daughter due to complications after a seizure 2 years ago, their lives completely changed. There was life before Juniper died, and there was life after Juniper died. Before Juniper died, they had two young girls in daycare. Days after Juniper died, their older daughter, Macie, started public school, and Juniper was gone. There was no longer a need for a daycare. They were suddenly navigating a world where they were bereaved parents. It was as if they were suddenly living in an alternative universe. Years before Juniper's death, Andy had watched his aunt and uncle mourn their son after he died in a car accident. Andy now realized that he didn't have a clue about what they had gone through - the pain that they felt each day. Andy and Kristen found themselves looking to other bereaved parents for support. They joined their local Compassionate Friends chapter and became regular listeners of the podcast. I sometimes have doubts about continuing to produce the podcast each week. It is certainly a labor of love, but it does require a lot of work, and sometimes, when listener numbers falter or donations stop for several weeks at a time, I wonder if the time for the podcast has passed. Then, I hear beautiful words like I heard today, and I realize that even though most of my guests have never spoken to each other, we have created a community of grievers. Before ending my conversation with Andy and Kristen today, Andy shared, "For all of the other parents who have been on the podcast and are now listening, we have cried for your children. We have mourned for your children because we know how it feels. We have heard them." Kristen says that early on in their grief journey, they knew that someday, they would want to share Juniper's story on the podcast. Today, almost two years later, is that day. Now, Andy and Kristen can know that all around the world, other bereaved parents are truly hearing them. They are crying for Juniper and mourning her as well. And for me, that is all that truly matters.

I have often said that different people grieve differently. Today's guest, Lori, adds a new twist to that statement. She lost two of her four sons almost 30 years apart from each other, and she is grieving so much differently now than she did the first time around, showing that the same person can grieve similar losses differently as well. The stories of Michael and Logan's deaths are far different. Michael died at age 2 of an aggressive type of cancer called neuroblastoma. He died after 9 months of treatment in his mother's arms at the hospital, which she says gave her time to say goodbye, but also forced her to watch him endure pain and suffering. Twenty-five-year-old Logan, on the other hand, died suddenly from an accidental drug overdose in his apartment. Logan was there one day and gone the next. Lori says that after losing Michael, she became an extremely compassionate person. She and her husband turned to each other for support. Loris describes him as her rock. She was very involved in church, turning to her faith to help ease the intense pain of loss. Over the years, Lori says that her biggest fear was that she might lose another one of her three remaining boys, but despite Logan's long history of mental health struggles, she did not ever think this would happen to them again. Then, 18 months ago, the unimaginable occurred - Logan died, too. After Michael died, compassion emerged. This time, however, fear and anger are the dominant emotions. She has trouble going out in public. Lori hasn't gone to church, and her faith feels broken. Her relationship with her husband has been damaged, and she has moved in with her two living sons, who are now her two rocks. Online support groups and podcasts have become her coping strategies.  These vastly different responses may seem surprising. I know they were unexpected to Lori, but there is a lesson here.  Grace. We need to give others and ourselves grace. We cannot control our feelings or our responses to grief. We need to feel our emotions, whatever they may be, and work through them. Through hard work, hope for the future may come again, for Lori and for us.

Livestreams with Gwen are back! This week's livestream topic was to be about the fact that we are living in two worlds - longing to live in the past while dealing with our messy lives in the present. I talk about my struggles of missing Andy while trying to be the happy mother-of-the-groom at Valeriano's recent wedding. This conversation quickly morphed into another topic. Respite. First, is it OK to take a break from your grief? And second - where do I find respite when I need a break from my grief? My answers - First - YES! And Second - walks outside in the sunshine, riding in our boat, listening to birds while on my deck, listening to music, reading a good book, and playing board games with family or friends. The most important point is this. It is OK (and actually GOOD) to take a break from your grief. Many grieving parents feel like they need to feel their grief all the time. Every book they read is about grief. Every podcast they listen to is about grief. Days are filled with therapy and support groups. While all of these things are great, breaks are needed. Our bodies and minds cannot handle the constant pain of grief. I remember in those early days feeling like I needed to feel the pain constantly. If I started to laugh or even smile, I would remind myself that Andy was dead, and the smile would disappear. As the seven-year anniversary approaches next week, I feel the heaviness begin to worsen again, but I have learned that the best way to get through these difficult days is to take some time away from the pain as well. I will have intentional times with my family to talk about and remember Andy. There is an upcoming 5K race where 25 of my co-workers will be wearing Be Still bracelets as they run to support our local FitKids program. But there will also be time for me to have respite. I will spend time reading a book and listening to birds outside on my deck. I will play golf and go boating. Hopefully, I will be able to convince my family to play a board game with me. Finding this balance is what gives me the strength to continue on each day.

Since becoming a bereaved parent, several phrases have irritated me. One of the most bothersome things people say to me is, 'You are so strong. I could never do what you do.' I feel like that suggests they don't think they need to help me—that I can handle everything on my own without assistance. When I first heard about today's guest, Cristi, and the 'Mentally STRONG' method she developed, I wasn't sure if I would like it. However, because Cristi lost not just one, but three children, I thought I should give it a try. After our conversation, all my doubts melted away. When Cristi talks about being mentally strong, she doesn’t mean being a resilient hero doing everything alone. Instead, Cristi teaches people to face their grief and sorrow directly, in community with therapists and other grieving individuals. As a psychiatric nurse practitioner, Cristi believed in cognitive behavioral therapy and the power of positive thinking. But after losing her adoptive son Johnny to drowning and seeing her son Reggie—and later daughter, Miah, and husband, Bundy—suffer from DRPLA, a terrible degenerative disease, Cristi realized that simply thinking positively was not very helpful for those grieving. We can’t just 'look on the bright side' and think positive thoughts after losing our children. That isn't realistic or natural. Cristi understands this too well. She writes, "Grief can feel overwhelming, like a weight that never lifts. It consumes your thoughts, leaves you feeling lost, and makes it hard to get through the day. It's an unpredictable journey that pulls at your heart. But in these moments of deep sorrow, there is space to feel, process, and find a path toward healing." The Mentally STRONG method isn’t a quick fix for deep grief, but it can help you face and work through your grief. It can help you find purpose in life again. If Cristi can find purpose and experience joy after losing Johnny, Reggie, Miah, and Bundy, so can we. For more information and access to her book and documentary, visit mentallystrong.com.

Today's guest, Jody, worked as an actor on Broadway for a year, but nothing had ever prepared her for the role she was required to play after the birth of her firstborn daughter, Lueza. After a completely unremarkable pregnancy, Jody suffered severe complications during childbirth, resulting in significant brain injuries for Baby Lueza. After suffering from horrible seizures as a young infant, they were able to stabilize little Lueza. Once they did so, she began to show a smile that would light up a room. Still, Lueza had significant delays. She could not sit, eat, or talk independently. At one point in time, Jody remembers looking at her husband and saying, "Will Lueza ever be able to sit up on her own?" Her husband's answer stuck with her: "She may be lying down, but she may be very happy." Over the years, Lueza proved her Dad right. She continued to be 'lying down,' but she was always very happy. She loved music, movies, and roller coasters. She would laugh and squeal and could let her family know what she did and didn't like with the slightest head movements. And her smile continued to light up the room.  Lueza had a profound effect on many people around her as she interacted with doctors and nurses in the medical community and her teachers at school. Over time, Lueza slowly developed more complications and died suddenly at home one night after getting what her family thought was only a little cold.  Then, Jody's life changed once again. She was no longer the mother of a medically complex child. She was now a bereaved mother. There were no more hospital visits. The medical equipment was no longer needed in the family home. Jody began doing arts and crafts as a form of healing. She attended spiritual support groups for bereaved parents. Most importantly, Jody began to write. Jody wrote a memoir about her life with Lueza that was years in the making. The title of the memoir was so fitting - 'She May Be Lying Down, but She May Be Very Happy.' This memoir was a story of her life with Lueza and a heartfelt thank you to all the people who had helped her over the years. A beautiful tribute for a beautiful girl.

When today's guest, Andy, lost his 18-year-old son, Heston, to suicide, he had a lot of time to reflect on life and finding one's purpose. Early in Andy's grief journey, he saw a visual that truly resonated with him. The image was of a framed picture that was completely black. The blackness represented the grief that, early on in one's grief journey, was all-encompassing. The darkness of the grief covered every part of the bereaved person's life. Then, there was a second image of a black rectangle the same size as the first. However, the picture frame was now several times larger, so that the black portion now took up only 5% of the frame.  The explanation is simple. The deep grief does not go away. The hole in our hearts remains. What we can work to change is the rest of our lives. We can grow and expand so that our lives are bigger than the grief. There are portions with love, joy, and happiness. They do not eliminate the grief, and the grief remains a part of the picture, but it is not the entire picture. The idea is not to get stuck in our grief, but to bring it along with us as we continue to experience life.  This past weekend, my (foster) son, Valeriano, got married. It was a beautiful wedding. There were lots of smiles and happiness surrounding the couple, but there were tears, too, as we had our first big family event without our Andy. Valeriano bought a special green pen to use to sign his marriage certificate to honor Andy. I put his picture and teddy bear on the seat where he should have been sitting. The new family picture included Andy's picture and teddy bear. We did not ignore our grief and forget about Andy on Saturday. We brought him along to be a part of the celebration. This is just what Heston's Dad, Andy, encourages as well. He brings Heston with him, feeling his presence. He has even released a powerful book, 'Overcoming Life’s Toughest Setbacks: 15 Breakthrough Core Beliefs to Transform Challenges into Opportunities!' The book is available through his website, askandycampbell.com. If it's half as good as my conversation with him today, I know it will inspire many of us on our grief journey.

Today's guest, Jackie, says that her guiding purpose is based on a quote that she has written down and keeps close by. David Viscott wrote, "The purpose of life is to discover your gift. The work of life is to develop it. And the meaning of life is to give your gift away." Jackie says that is exactly how her son, Stu, lived his life and how she works to live her own.   Initially, after her amazingly talented, loving son, Stu, died by suicide, she lost herself. Stu had been living his dream life in New York City. He had his own apartment and worked at a job he loved as a barber, cutting hair. Then, mental illness invaded his life and took him away. Jackie was left feeling alone. Hope? What is that? Healing? That's impossible. She tried going to grief support groups but felt overwhelmed. Then, Jackie found an organization called Eric's House. Their vision is that 'no person who is bereaved by suicide or substance use will suffer these devastating losses alone.' Jackie said the organization saved her.  Ever so slowly, hope crept back into her life. Jackie didn't force healing to come, but it did, a little bit at a time. She joined one of their online support groups and then another. They gave her the tools that she needed to start rebuilding her life. She began writing an article for the organization's newsletter and started facilitating support groups for them as well. Over time, Jackie found a purpose for her grief.  Now Jackie compares herself to the old apple trees in her backyard. They appear to be 150 years old. They have branches dying each year and huge holes in them, but they persist. Each year, the trees blossom and look beautiful. They produce apples that feed the deer in the area. Whatever life throws at them, they keep going.  That is a great visual for our lives now. We may have huge holes inside and limbs that are missing, but we just keep going. As ugly as our lives may look from the outside, they can still produce beauty and help provide for others along our life's journey. We may not be who we once were, but we can still be amazing.

Maeve was a little girl who was born to be a big sister. As soon as she was able to toddle around the house, Maeve was bringing the family dog her favorite books to read and making sure he had everything that he 'needed'. Shortly after Maeve's second birthday, her little brother was born, and Maeve was truly in her element. She adored Declan and wanted to share everything with him. Baby Declan loved being a part of the 'Maeve show' as her mama, Tarah, described it. Declan would grin as his big sister laughed and danced around him. Life was good. Then, one day, that perfect life was destroyed. The little family was on a flight to DC. The flight had been delayed, so by the time the plane landed, Maeve had fallen asleep on her dada's lap. Tarah's husband tried to rouse her, and could not. Maeve was no longer breathing. He let out a scream, and both parents immediately started CPR. Their perfectly healthy 3-year-old daughter had died for no apparent reason while sleeping on her father's lap. Her official cause of death was Sudden Unexplained Death of Childhood (SUDC). Their world was shattered. Tarah first wrote to me less than two months after Maeve's death. She shared her story and asked to be connected to another mom whose daughter died of SUDC. Over the almost two years since that first email, Tarah has continued to email with family updates, show ideas, and eventually, about Maeve's Foundation, the charity that Tarah and her husband started in Maeve's memory.  Initially, Tarah just wanted to collect enough money to buy a bench as a dedication to Maeve. Then, that idea grew into sponsoring a memorial garden in Maeve's memory. As more people contributed to the foundation, Tarah knew they needed to grow.  The organization now has a new mission - Maeve's Wish. Maeve's Wish is working to provide 'a truly magical respite for children battling a chronic or terminal illness - a trip to Walt Disney World.'  Just as Maeve wanted to make her family dog and baby brother happy, she will help make precious family memories for others. We're pretty sure she will be laughing and dancing as she watches from heaven.

Storytelling. It's my very favorite thing about doing the podcast each week. When I meet each guest, I am privileged to help people share their child's story with people around the world. I have come to learn over the past 300-plus episodes that this storytelling helps lead to healing for both the guests sharing their stories and the listeners who tune in each week. Emily learned about the power of storytelling years ago while writing her book, Birth Story Brave. As a perinatal mental health specialist, she recognized the importance for women to be able to work through their own birth story experiences to help them heal when things don't go as planned. Hundreds of miles away, Malhaley, a fellow perinatal mental health specialist, used the book with her patients as well, finding its 'storytelling as healing' theme to be extremely helpful.  Then, the unimaginable happened. Not only did Mahaley have her own birth trauma experience, but her daughter, Saachi, needed to be admitted to the NICU and died a few days later. Mahaley's world was rocked. She did not know if she would ever be able to work in perinatal mental health again, but as she did consider going back, she thought about Emily and her book. Mahaley knew that she needed to work through her own story to begin to heal. As helpful as Emily's first book was to Mahaley, she quickly realized that families whose birth story leads to their babies being admitted to the NICU needed something more. The birth story was important, certainly, but for these families, it was only the beginning. They need a guide to help them after the birth, when their babies start and sometimes end their lives in the NICU.  Mahaley interviewed Emily, and an idea was born. The two of them began to write another book, 'Your NICU Story: Reflecting on Your Family’s Experience', which will be released in September. In it, they utilize the power of storytelling to help families navigate their own NICU experiences, whether they ultimately bring their babies home or not.

There is one question that this week's guest, Nicole (nicolebgebhardt.com), asks each client when she first starts seeing them as a life coach.   What are three things you love about yourself?  How did you answer this question? Was it difficult? Did you even come up with three things? I have to admit something. I had a hard time. As a mom, I can think of three things I love about my kids. As a wife, I can easily name three things I love above my husband, but when asked to look inward like this, I falter.  Nicole says that 85% of her clients have the same struggle. They can't name even one thing, let alone three. There was a time when Nicole had these same feelings. After suffering through two miscarriages and the death of her 9-week-old son, Samuel, from SIDS, she didn't feel like she deserved to be happy. Nicole turned to alcohol, and when her husband began abusing her, she felt as if she 'deserved' the abuse.  Even after having three healthy children, leaving her first husband, and meeting her 'Prince Charming', she still didn't love herself. Five and a half years ago, she decided to take her own life. After surviving that suicide attempt, her outlook on life changed. She chose to become clean and sober and focus on loving herself first. This certainly was not easy, but when talking to Nicole today, I can say that she, quite simply, radiates joy. Despite her past, Nicole does not let these experiences define her. Nicole realizes that she is not a victim. She is a survivor, and that is amazing. She is resilient, she is strong, and she is awesome.  Think about your own life for a minute. Think of all that you have gone through. Likely, if you are reading this, your child died. Perhaps you have suffered through abuse and addiction or tried to help a loved one through their struggles. Maybe you have lost other loved ones or your job, marriage, or home. Despite all of these things and more, you get up every day. You are strong and resilient. We all are.  Can I name three things I love about myself? Yes, I can. And so can you.

Episode 300. It's hard to wrap my head around a number that big. Hundreds of beautiful stories. Thousands of listeners. Later this summer, we will reach another milestone: the 7th anniversary of Andy's death—14 years of having Andy here on Earth and 7 years of Andy in heaven. Another concept that is so difficult to comprehend. In today's episode, Gwen plays host and interviews Eric and me as we discuss the podcast and its growth over the past six years. The addition of our videographer, Jen, has been an incredible blessing as she has created beautiful video clips to share on Instagram and Facebook (@alwaysandysmom). These videos have helped us all see the featured children in real life, so to speak. Over the next few days, you will be able to see Andy featured for the first time! We also talked about our recent family trip. Vacations can be difficult after losing a child. Part of us may feel like we don't want to make new, wonderful memories without our loved one. Certainly, there were moments of sadness and tears as we traveled, thinking of Andy and knowing how much he would have loved it. We made a point of taking Andy's teddy bear, Herky, along on the trip and capturing pictures with him every single day. Herky had his special pouch in the backpack and made appearances at St. Peter's Square, the canals of Venice, and the Acropolis. Our 'Herky pictures' certainly did not replace having Andy with us, but they gave us all a moment to think about him and feel like a tiny bit of him was there. As we start our next 100 episodes, I look forward to seeing what new changes lie ahead. The first addition will be the opportunity to share your child on the podcast in a unique way. While some people want to share their child on an episode, others may never feel ready for such a step. I was inspired by Michael's Madre, who offered to sponsor the full cost of her episode, which is $125. Now, I invite others to do the same. If you feel called to sponsor all (or part of) an episode in your child's name, visit the Donate Page on andysmom.com, and their name will be announced in the introduction. Thank you all so much for the love and support you have shown me. The podcast has blessed me in more ways than I could have ever realized. I cannot imagine what my life would be like today without it.

"I'm good." This was a common response that Mary Beth's son, Michael, used when he didn't want to do something or go somewhere. "Michael, do you want to come with me?" "I'm good." It almost became a bit of a family joke. After Michael died 18 months ago at 21 years of age, his brother, a talented artist, wrote a cartoon depicting Michael in heaven. In the cartoon, his brother was longing to have Michael back with them, here on earth, with their family, so he called heaven. When Jesus answered the phone, he was asked if he could send Michael back home. Jesus responded, "Let me go ask him." Michael's response was typical Michael - "I'm good." The problem, of course, is that although Mary Beth is sure that Michael is 'good', Mary Beth is not. She and their entire family miss Michael terribly. Michael is the second of five sons in an incredibly close family. Although Michael had a long history of anxiety struggles, his family thought he was great. He seemed happy and was completing his college education with a degree in biology. He was a brilliant and talented young man with a bright future ahead of him.  Unbeknownst to his family, however, Michael was suffering inside. Mary Beth was shocked when she found him dead in the room where he had been living at his grandparents' house, and more shocked when they learned that he had taken his own life. After searching his computer, they found an unsent email where he described having homicidal and suicidal thoughts. He was suffering a mental breakdown and shared that he feared that he might kill other people. In that moment, he seemed to feel like the way to protect others was to die himself. Mary Beth did not know how she could go on living after losing Michael, but day by day, she is doing just that. Each day is a challenge, but Mary Beth continues to get up, go to work, and parent their four living boys. Does she expect to cry daily? Of course she does. Can she honestly answer, 'I'm good' when she is asked? Definitely not. But, until that day comes, Mary Beth clings to the knowledge that Michael is most certainly ‘good’ up in heaven.

I have long loved Faith's Lodge and, since the early days of the podcast, hoped that someday, I might be able to talk with someone from that wonderful organization. Now, that wish became a reality. Today's guest, Kelly, is not a bereaved mom herself, but she was at the side of her sister when she lost her 12-year-old son, Carter, almost 15 years ago. As I listened to Kelly, I was struck by how instinctively she did so much 'right' after Carter died. Logistically, she handled so much for her sister in those first days and weeks, but perhaps even more importantly, she kept Carter a part of their everyday lives in the months and years that followed. When holidays came, Kelly made sure that Carter was remembered. Kelly continued to ask for parenting advice from her older sister, asking, "When this happened to Carter, what did you do?" Shortly after Carter died, Kelly's sister's family attended a retreat at Faith's Lodge. Her sister shared that for the first time, she felt like she could fully be herself and not have to wear a mask and try to hide. Then, 13 years ago, while golfing at a charity golf event, Kelly was asked if she might consider leaving her job and becoming the executive director of a non-profit organization. She had no interest in leaving her job, but politely asked the name of the organization - Faith's Lodge. The tears came, and then, long hours of considering a career change. With her sister's blessing, Kelly started the job that has since become her passion. Under Kelly's guidance, the organization expanded to be even more than an amazing year-round retreat center. They developed a program for employers called 'Hope Works Here' to give businesses tools to help bereaved parents return to work successfully. This month, more big changes came to Faith's Lodge as they undergo a rebranding in order to more clearly define their mission and purpose. Their new name is the Child Loss Foundation. They still offer their incredible retreats at Faith's Lodge (although they hope to spread to additional locations). They still offer resources for employers, now called Child Loss at Work. Additionally, the organization merged with another Minnesota non-profit formerly called The BeliEve Foundation, in order to expand their mission of offering immediate financial support for newly bereaved families. I have long known that Faith's Lodge was a magical place, but now, I can't wait to see how many more lives they will be able to touch as they grow and expand.

From the first pages of reading the memoir written by today's guest, Sally McQuillen, I was quite honestly hooked. 'Reaching for Beautiful: A Memoir of Loving and Losing a Wild Child' is an absolutely beautiful story that Sally wrote after losing her 21-year-old son, Christopher, in a boating accident shortly after Christmas. Sally shares that as she raised Christopher, she often found herself worrying about him. Christopher is described as a 'wild child' who suffered from addiction and loved to take risks. He lived every part of his life in a big way. Parenting Christopher was truly a roller coaster ride for Sally and her husband.  After losing Christopher, Sally's life was forever changed. She says that one of the greatest lessons that she learned both from raising and losing Christopher was to learn to let go of fear and instead cling to love. Sally had to "make losing Christopher a permission slip to be compassionate" with herself. Over the next months and years, Sally was challenged to let go of the fear, guilt, and regret in order to forgive herself and move forward with life. This was certainly not a quick process. Sally says it took her seven years to feel a sense of normalcy in her life after Christopher died. After Jen, my Instagram and Facebook videographer, watched the video of today's interview, she wrote to me that she felt so comforted when she heard Sally say that it took that long to feel 'normal' again. This is the biggest takeaway from this episode. There is no timeline for grief. Everyone’s journey is their own. Some people appear to move faster and some slower, but it is not right or wrong. We need to take that lesson from Sally and give ourselves 'permission slips' when we think about our grief.  This brings me back to Sally's beautiful memoir. I found myself feeling so much love as I read this story, whether it was reading about Christopher's struggles in life or about Sally's grief after he died. The book is described as 'a luminous story of how love triumphs over pain, love transcends fear, and love never dies.' I couldn't agree more. Thank you, Sally.