Sun Light.

Yesterday was one for the books. A tidal wave of grief, guilt and sadness washed over me as soon as the morning light came through my window. A year ago today Tyler had begun his journey into this world. Such a tiny little miracle that would forever change the way we look at this life.

I’ve recently learned that hiding myself away and cramming my emotions in, is probably about the worst way to honor my fallen child. I’m slowly learning to pick myself up and push forward with grace. I cannot fathom a life so miserable that I’m unable to enjoy it for him. My heart truly does ache with each breath I take from Tyler’s absence. However, I pray that one day God gives me the strength  to shout his name to world and not fear the tears that fall afterwards. I know that in time tears of happiness will come, and I’ll welcome them with open arms.


I’m taking a big step and seeking help from a counselor tomorrow. I’m in hopes that using my writing as an outlet as well as talking to another individual face to face will aid in the healing process. I find myself searching for the light of the day now or a simple  smile from a stranger as they pass by me – the little things. This world can be so cruel and unforgiving, but if we look deep enough there’s always something worth smiling for, no matter how much pain we’re currently facing. A new season of life begins after such a loss, one that feels impossible. Have faith – you can do it, I can do it, WE can do it!

It takes a strong person to find hope when life seems so dark, but you were chosen to face this struggle for a reason. God gave you a gift, a gift so precious that only the few of us that have experienced it can know its real reward. We as grief parents know what true love and deep loss feel like all bundled into one.

Mommy is always missing you, Tyler Matthew. You entered into this world a little fighter and blessed us with a lifetime of memories during your short time here. Now its our turn to fight for you, my little love. Rest easy knowing mommy and daddy are spreading your legacy all over this world and will hold you again one day in the not so distant future.




As I roll out of bed this morning, my heart aches for the little boy I’ve lost. I think about how I will never again hold him in this life, see his smile or feel him breathing against my chest. My little angel is just that – an angel. A child of God and living in a world of pure bliss with our Lord and Savior.

Knowing and believing he’s in a much better place should put my heart and mind at ease but I still find myself in an immense amount of pain. I can’t quiet the constant screams or seem to accept that my son will never have to suffer the cruelty of this world. I only focus on the fact that he’s not where I feel he should be, with me.

It’s completely unnatural for a parent to bury their child. It goes against the general order of things in every way. My life has been flipped upside down since losing Tyler. It’s only been two months – however it’s been the most excruciating two months I have ever faced. Just recently I had a day that didn’t seem quite as bad, I even smiled at the thought of him. I found myself full of emotions that didn’t seem to fit the situation. Instead of rejoicing in my love for him I began to feel guilty that I smiled at his photo, instead of crying over his loss.

This path of ‘grief’ seems to be a roller coaster. One minute you’re up and the next you’ve plunged 50 feet at a speed quicker than light. I keep hearing of other mothers and families now facing the same fate we have. My heart goes out to them all. I wish in some way I could touch their hearts, and my own in the process, and simply say “it’s going to be okay” – leaving them with a true understanding of the five simple words. Life doesn’t feel ok after you lose a child and normal will never be ‘normal’ again.  I just pray, I tell God when I’m angry with him and I hold out hope that tomorrow will be better than today. The death of a child is an uphill battle that no amount of physical training can prepare you for.

Reach out to those around you and ask for help when you need it. If you’re a grief parent there are people out there who will listen, despite their lack of understanding on the pain you’re experiencing. Let them help. Cry, scream, or simply sit in silence with their company. I promise it’ll be a relief to know that not only you, but your missing child are loved by many. I often think these people are also angels – angels sent to us to help us through the bad, who will remain with us and wait patiently for the good to come again.


“They say now you’re in a better place, and I would be too if I could see your face. You should be here.” – Cole Swindell


Tyler Matthew

It’s amazing what a song can do to completely change your mood. Music is such a powerful tool. The lyrics above seem to speak to my soul.

These last two days have been excruciating. Not only was yesterday Tyler’s 3 month “birthday” but my heart has been so heavy with missing him. Friday morning I woke up and was paralyzed by the pain I felt after looking over at his picture. Such a gorgeous little man who was taken from the world all too soon. I keep reading stories about families that have experienced this same pain and seem to still find hope in the midst of such chaos. I wish so badly I could be that person. I have so many ideas about where I want my life to head right now, but it seems to have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

I cry. A LOT. I know that’s okay, but I also want to be the mom who honors her child by living for him. How do I do that when I myself have forgotten how to live? There are no words to express the feeling you have when your world is taken from you. I was recently told that I should consider getting back into a routine. What I don’t think others realize is that THIS is my new routine, as sad as it may seem. I can’t take my life back to what it was before Tyler. Lets face it, life will forever be different. Filled with extreme emotional reactions to things that seem minuscule to outsiders looking in.

So, what do you do when you can’t breathe? When you don’t want to get out of bed and face the world? How about going back into a society that appears to have no clue there is a very important person missing from it? I wish so badly I had all the answers to these questions. For now its all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. I pray that soon my family finds some comfort. I know that one day I’ll be living for Tyler like I dream to, but for now I’m mourning him.

I have to remind myself that tomorrow is a new day, a day that I will hopefully be blessed enough to experience. So many people are left with regrets and I’m slowly coming around to the idea of ‘I don’t want to be that person’ – I CAN’T be that person. I need to be a beacon of hope for all of those that follow behind us in this gut wrenching journey. The world does not stop turning because we’re sad or we’re hurting. God does not leave us in our weakest moments, he carries us. I need to carry Tyler. Carry him in my heart and know that in reality, he never left me. His vessel did, his spirit did not. I aim to spread his love to everyone I meet and greet each day with a positive outlook.


About me.

I realize I most likely did this backwards. I told you about my son before I explained a little about myself. First of all, my son is number one, so in my book this story has been written perfectly – with him first.

I’m pretty new to the blog world, but hope that I can reach at least one person in need, if nothing else. Coping with the loss of a child is a delicate and painful experience. Depression can set in quickly or gradually over time; but one things for sure, it’s a slow killer. Often times parents of lost little ones find themselves facing their new world alone, even when they’re surrounded by people. Learning to live with our new reality after such a tragic loss is a maze of emotion that I’ve only scratched the surface of. My journey is beginning with you. If you’re the mother or father of a butterfly baby, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me; thus far I’ve found the most comfort when talking with someone who can relate to how I’m feeling.

I am a 27 year old ‘army wife’ from Houston, Texas, a recent mother and an avid dog enthusiast that loves to travel and blare country music whenever possible. My life recently rounded a very dark corner after losing Tyler. I have always been the spunky, upbeat type, but lately I’ve run out of spark. I met my husband when I was 19. We definitely don’t have that “storybook romance” but we always seem to find our way back to one another after all of life’s hardships. He is my rock, my one and only, my always and forever. (Yeah, cheesy – but all so true!) I pray that if you’re struggling with the loss of a child, you are not suffering equally in your marriage or relationship. At the time of Tyler’s passing we were warned of the strain such a loss can put on a couple – boy was that right! My best advice to any grieving parent is to try to stay strong for one another. If you’re having a bad day, lean on your partner for support – when you see them begin to suffer, become their solid ground. I always try to think about what Tyler would want when small arguments arise and I begin to feel tension building between us. That tiny miracle you held in your arms was only possible because of the love you two once shared – try and get back there. Don’t lose yourselves in the midst of such tragedy.

Our story began in the small town of Lubbock, Texas where we lived for the first two years of our lives together. In 2011 my husband decided to join the U.S. Military as a 19K in the ARMY, and shortly there after we were off to South Korea. Although our time there was short, we experienced a lot and made some life long friendships that we’ll carry with us forever. Fast forward two years and we found ourselves at Fort Irwin, California, smack dab in the middle of death valley and quite literally in the middle of nowhere. It was here that we made the decision to begin trying for a family of our own. On Mothers Day 2015, I surprised my husband with a family photo shoot (can you imagine his excitement?). It was then that I told him the best news I’d ever received and the hardest secret I’d ever kept in my entire life – We’re Pregnant!!!

The next nine months went relatively smooth with a few bumps here and there. We felt our little man kick for the first time on August 30, 2015. I can still remember the excitement I felt in that moment. In October I was diagnosed with a slight placental tear and not even a month later, with gestational diabetes. Despite the set backs we were both still beside ourselves with the excitement of what was to come – Mister Tyler Matthew!

He has been and always will be, our greatest gift from God.