A few days after her birth, our hero, Isabella, had to get under the blue lights to work on her bilirubin levels with doctors and nurses in NICU. |
By Missy Enaje
I had to do a courageous thing today.
A few days after her birth, our hero, Isabella, had to get under the blue lights to work on her bilirubin levels with doctors and nurses in NICU. |
I had to do a courageous thing today.
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Nature begs us to trust the process. |
By Missy Enaje
I started growing a memorial garden on behalf of my daughter. My sweet friend Amy and her family bought the perfect, blue solar butterfly light to complement this journey. She even gave me a bag filled with wildflower seeds. I was so excited to tend to this project and see where it lead.
The following excerpt comes from a fellow creative and grief linguist, John Onwuchekwa.
"Tears of sorrow and tears of joy both canalled into the corners of my mouth, and I realized they both tasted the same. In an instant, grief and hope, joy and sorrow intersected. I learned that grief and hope aren’t parallel streets that we travel down based on life’s circumstances.
Where do I begin? I am releasing a book I dedicated to my daughter, Isabella. I completed the book before she was born and wrote it in honor of her. I also discussed the rare genetic condition she had called Trisomy 18, which affects the development and viability of a child. While no cure currently exists, medical interventions have proven to extend the child's life at the risk of the child's quality of life. There is no middle ground: it's one hard decision vs. another hard decision.
Goodbye 2024.
The end of a year always comes packed with the idea that calls for transformation, renewal or something momentous. Well, it wasn't always like that, at least, during the times where I just really enjoyed partying in NYC. But as I get older, the latter seems to take precedence.