When you die something always happens.

It has been a while since I have written anything. I have been busy. Life changes when you lose a child. You have to learn to adjust to that new life, but you also have to move forward. Losing Morgan was by far the hardest thing I have experienced yet. It affects my interactions. It affects my relationships new and old. I am a different person. Sometimes I feel like I am losing my mind, other times I feel more humble than ever before. There is something few people know about me though. I have never felt like it would be the right time to express it or say it. I don't follow the grain of life. I am different than a lot of my family and friends. I know many people who think the way that I do, but they don't speak about it often either.

It's been six months since she passed away. Six months today. I can't believe it has been that long since I have held her, smelled her, played with her, watched her smile and fight her fight. She is inspiration that will never die within me. I talk about her all the time. The people I meet, I can't wait to tell them about her. Not because I want to be pitied, but because I feel very lucky to have had her in my life. Morgan was my baby. I stood by that sweet girl. I held her, loved her, kissed her, hugged her, played with her, and so much more.



There is something I never did for her; I mean NEVER, something that some people may hang their head in shame about. They may become my biggest critic in life. Never once did I pray for my daughter.  I am Atheist. What does this mean? This means I do not believe in a higher power. I do not believe my daughter is in a biblical heaven living out her forever with the biblical god. I do not believe she is the hands of a higher power at all actually. I believe she is here with me. She is a ball of energy. She is my muse, my inspiration. Her energy is connected to me, and she guides me with that will to fight.


You see she taught me about the fight in her short life. She taught me to smile and be strong. She taught me to love, care, and smile, not only for myself, but for everyone, especially those who need it the most. How do I grieve this way though? How do I deal without knowing or feeling that I will be joined with her in a heaven that brings us together? Well, I may not believe in a higher power, but I believe in her. I believe in her energy and her strength. I believe that all that she had to give will live on and it will continue to inspire me. I believe that when I die my energy will remain attached to Morgan’s like a magnet. I don’t have all the answers, but I am okay with that. I feel her all the time. When I feel my motivation and drive to be a stronger and better person, I am feeling her. I have lived my life scared, scared that I am different than those around me. I have never felt the fear I have felt in the last 18 months of my life.



Let’s talk about testing faith. I am me, always. I never strayed. I never thought that I could start praying this better from the time she was born and to the time she coded. I whispered to her that I was proud of her and it was okay. I wanted her to be without pain. I wanted her to do what was best for her, even if that meant so much pain for me. I for the first time since her birth got to feel like I took some of that pain away from her in some way. Even if I know that she was so sick she just couldn’t take it anymore, I know that I told her I wanted her to be free from that pain. I don’t know how much pain she was in. I can’t speculate. I can’t sit here and say that my pain is worse than what she lived with. I feel confident when I say it cannot be compared.


Morgan lived a different life than the most typical child. She was such a versatile human that I cannot express it in words. She was better than I. She was stronger, happier, and much more open to new experiences. She is the reason I embrace those around me in a different light. I have always been a compassionate person, but Morgan gave me something to be compassionate about, and it was having compassion and understanding for others.


I embrace people who tell me they will pray for us. Not because I thought it would help, but because in my mind and heart, prayer is love to everyone who believes in it. I love, love! I loved support and well wishes. I may not believe in my mind that it can save my daughter, but the fact that someone else does tells me a lot! It tells me that they care and they are doing everything they can to help. They are doing what they truly believe helps my daughter and family. I can’t even put into words what that means to me. It is beautiful! I watched so many people just come out of the wood work to be here for my sweet Moonpie.


I use words like angel, and can’t wait to hold you again. Those words aren’t reserved for only one meaning though. My angel is my ball of sweet, beautiful, amazing energy. Her name is Morgan ‘MoonPie Marshmallow’ Sawyer Holland.


Yes I am atheist, but I still grieve. I still find my connection. I still feel her and love her every day. No I did not feel that prayer would save her, but I embrace those that do believe that it is powerful. No I do not feel that is crazy nonsense. It is just different than what I believe. I know my Moonpie is with me. She is a part of me, just like she is a part of so many people. When you die something always happens.

Its not how it seems

In the last few months so many people have told me how strong I am. It has been tough. I smile, I laugh, and I put on a happy face. What is happening inside of me is a completely different story. I struggle. I struggle to stop thinking for even a moment about her. I want to think about her. I want to keep her in my life.

I go back to the moment Morgan was born. I remember watching her in such critical condition. She was on a ventilator and had sedatives and pain meds for about a month. Her life was hanging in the balance. I was so scared for my baby, but that wasn't the only thing I feared. I feared that I had carried this baby and grew a bond with her. I expected her to be healthy because never in my life had I experienced any other way. I grieved when she was born. Not because of who she was, but because of how I thought she would be. I wanted to put her back in my tummy and make her "safe" again. I knew that didn't make her safe, but in my mind we didn't know what was going on with her before she was born, so in my tummy was safe. Hind sight is always 20/20. I know now that she was not safe in my tummy. She had a fighting chance when she came two weeks early. She was fighting from day one. I went on a long journey. I am not going to deny my strength. I wont because I know that it got me through some things that I don't think I could have looked in from the outside and thought I can do this. Morgan was a story you read about. Not something that is your life, and she was my life. My girls are my life. That has not changed.

When Morgan took her last breath I took my last breath as the person I was. It's true I will never be the same. She has taken so much of me with her, but she has also made a trade. Even though a part of my life will always be missing, just like any child, she gave me more than she could ever have known. She gave me a reason to fight and live. She gave me goals and a future. Obviously  I wish she could live that future with me. It is so hard to even get up and out of my bed in the morning without her, but I do it for her and the rest of my family.

I often get told how strong I am. Let me tell you how strong I am. I cry. I cry a lot. My heart literally aches for her. I remember telling the doctor when she was in the NICU "I know any move we make with her is a risk, but not making a move is an even bigger risk." The same is true for me right now. I am not exaggerating when I tell you if I did not make a move toward living my life, losing her would have been the death of me. Even though I did not feel the pain of the illness the way she did, I did feel it. I have felt it from the beginning.

People can ask their questions. People can wonder how I can talk about her with a smile on my face. People can wonder "How does she do it? I would be a mess!"  The truth is, I am living a life I never imagined. It is not easy. I just try to appear to be ok. I struggle. I struggle at work. I struggle at home. I struggle all the time, but those struggles are mine. Those struggles are helping me grow, and most importantly, making me fell completely connected to a beautiful and amazing baby girl.

I wish for her back. I wish it every day. I cannot express that enough. I want her back! I know it wont happen. I know that I can't wish it all away. I know what the reality of my life is. I know so many of you are trying so hard to be so supportive. I know that pretty much everyone has good intentions, but please keep this in mind: When you tell me that you could not imagine and that you wouldn't be able to be as strong as me it hurts. Even though you would think it is a compliment. I struggle. I struggle with feelings of inadequacy. I struggle hoping that I am grieving the right way for my little girl. That I am missing her and loving her enough. I struggle with, mostly, hoping that I loved her enough when she was here.



So please, if you must tell me how strong I am, just leave it at that. Do not tell me how you think you would be if you were me. It is a situation many do not know, and I hope they never do.

Her name is Morgan

It has been three months as of yesterday since our sweet girl left our world. So much has changed forever. Some days are good, even great, but other days are difficult. People don't know what to say or if it is okay to say anything at all. You see a fear in their eyes when they mention her name. I've been there on that side. Wondering if it is okay to talk about. Do they want to talk about their loved one? Will I make them sad? I never wanted to make anyone sad. I have learned some things since losing Morgan. Everyone grieves differently, but maybe what I have been through can be helpful to those on the other side of the loss.

1. Her name is Morgan
It is not that she was my daughter, she IS my daughter. I love her always. Just like our living children she still means the world to us. I don't want her to disappear from our lives. I want people to tell their stories. I don't mind answering questions about her life. When I say life, I mean her life, not her death. If I cry don't feel bad or guilty because of it. Silencing her memory would hurt so much more. Her life was beautiful and her memories keep her alive in our hearts. Don't be afraid to ask me about her. Don't be afraid to say her name. She is real to us and very important. Her name is Morgan.

2. It will always hurt.
No matter what happens in my life or how much time has passed I will still cry because I miss her. That will never go away. Time wont change that. Time will just give me the luxury of learning how to deal with the tougher times. It isn't a day by day, it is an hour by hour process. Each hour is different. Some day that will change. I know because in the last three months it has change from minute by minute. I know I will be okay. Not because I am healing, but because time has changed my grief and Morgan gave me the strength to get through this. It will only end when I take my last breath.

3. There is no set time.
I have made some life altering changes and decisions in my life. Not just since her death, but since she was born. All of these choices were different from any choice I have ever made. Especially after she was gone. The day I woke up and I was alone in my house was like waking up in a different world. I wasn't sure how real everything was because everything about that day was so different than what I had ever been used to. I have felt so many different emotions since that day. I have felt the ups and downs of yearning for another baby. Not to replace her, but to love and care for. Those moments are fleeting though, because when I think about another baby right now I only want Morgan, and I know that I will not get her back. When people comment on my desire for another baby I don't feel like I can communicate my feelings in words. There is no perfect time after a loss. There may not ever be a time that we welcome a new member into our family, but if we do only we get to decide when it is right for us or what we are feeling.

4. Love and support mean everything to us.
I love having so many people extending their hands out to us to help us through. Going places can be very difficult. Not only am I afraid I will get the "so sorry for your loss", but I am also afraid of what people might say when they are at a loss for words. Things like "maybe you were just meant to have one child" or "aren't you over it yet" or even "at least you still have your other child/ren." When you feel at a loss for what to say it is perfectly acceptable to say "I have no words. I do not know what to say, but I am here for you." It is perfectly acceptable to just tell me you have no words. Sometimes when someone is trying to be there for me and I can see there is a loss for words, and they say whatever they can to fill that in, what they do say can hurt worse than nothing at all. Just smile, and try to make life feel as normal as it can be again.

5. The 5 stages of grief have no order.
They are chaotic. They are random. Even after acceptance I will still feel times of denial. Denial that this really happened to our family. This really happened to our sweet girl. This is my life.  I have moments that I have to remind myself that I can't just go pick her up and she is not coming back. I wake up from a dream and have to realize that it was a dream.

Acceptance. It is something I have to do on a daily basis. I have to not only accept that she is gone, I have to accept that everything is changing without her. I have to accept that life is continuing without her. When I lost her there were moments I thought the world would stop just for her and everything would stand still. I quickly realized that was not true. Not even for me. I had to keep living, not just because everyone I loved was, but because if I didn't I would stop being a mom, step-mom and a wife to 5 people. Yes 5. Morgan still needs me to be her mom. I just "mom" differently with her now. I get to honor her while I take a new direction. I get to carry on her memory and use her story to teach people how important life and education are. We are her voice.

The guilt. Oh the guilt! Guilt does not just come in the form of feeling guilty that something I did may have caused it or that I could have prevented her death. That is actually very rare and a very short lived form of my guilt. I feel guilt that she didn't get to meet everyone I love and adore, because I know they would have loved and adored her. I feel guilt because I can only hope that I loved her and kissed her enough. I don't need to be told not to feel that way because I know I did the best I could, but sometimes those thoughts creep in and I don't let them live there. I just want someone to understand.

Depression isn't always permanent. However it can be. It can also be fleeting. It can come one day and go the next. It comes without warning, and it can be hard to push through. I feel lucky though. I have been gifted with the amazing positivity of Morgan's smile and strength. All that she has given me has truly changed how long I let myself feel the depression. I have been lucky it has not overwhelmed me. If it ever did, I know its not because I am weak. It is because I am human. The love and support helps so much, but it also gives me the confidence to speak when things become too difficult.

The last stage I will address is anger. This is a difficult one. This one is so easy to feel. Most often when I feel it I know it is secondary to something bigger. I am not angry at Morgan, but sometimes I feel angry that she is gone. I could never be angry with my sweet angel. I do feel anger toward people who have done nothing to deserve that anger. I get over it quickly, but its there. Sometimes its over something small and completely unrelated to anything Morgan, but I feel it because I am sad that day and just missing her. Sometimes I feel angry that they are experiencing a happiness in a moment that happy does not seem possible. I am not angry with the medical staff, but sometimes I wonder if there was anything they could have done to stop it from getting where it did. I have to work my way out of those thoughts. The fact is it happened so fast for all of us. We can't see the future. Doctors and nurses are people not super humans. They are people.

This experience has taught me so much. I have learned there is no right answer. There is not "right way" to grieve. Most of all there is no time limit and time has not healed me. It only changes me. I choose daily to keep going, but I am fortunate to have the ability to make that choice. Not everyone does. It doesn't make them weak, or wrong. It just makes them different than me. That is what makes us human. The good and the bad shape our lives.