Shickel Family

 As time goes on it feels easier to share our story. I still get a little pit in my stomach when I meet new people - I know they will inevitably ask or find out about our Jack and our story and navigating that is hard. But it is getting easier to share as time goes on and our wounds heal into scars.  Another piece to this season is that we often feel like the outlier. We are rare in a way that isn't desirable. It is not common in this country to meet a couple who has lost a child. Miscarriage is common, yes. But it is also not really talked about openly in most circles understandably because it is a source of real stinging pain and it often occurs without most people knowing. Our story is so public. Child loss is so public.  Often we feel excluded from conversations because of our unique situation. Of course not in an intentional way, it just happens. The conversation might start about pregnancy or child birth but shortly after our ability to relate to another new mom and dad halts

 Writing is a funny thing. It is truly an art - being able to describe how you feel in a way that is not only accurate but interesting and with style. I don't feel quite equip often - like my words aren't exactly what I want them to be but I try not to let that stop me from writing. I tend to have thoughts fly through my head that make me think "I should write about that." Sometimes the thought leaves my brain and I move on with life. Other times the thought sticks in there. It almost pings around in my brain, going from the forefront of my thoughts then back into my subconcience and then pings back out to the foreground again as if it isn't leaving my brain because I need to chew on it for longer. And often I chew on it by writing about it. I am not a 'sit peacefully and ponder in silence' person. My thumbs like to twiddle, my knee likes to bounce, and I oft can't sit still if there is unfinished chores in my immediate surroundings.  My best thoughts