This website—and my public voice—began in 2016, after my first daughter, Olivia, passed away three days before she was born. I was 37 weeks pregnant. It was a perfectly healthy pregnancy. She was a perfect, healthy baby who just didn’t get to stay.
Writing saved me. Sharing my story helped me make sense of the impossible and has, in ways I never expected, saved lives. It has connected me with strangers who now feel less alone. It has spread hope and love through the small, kind acts we do to honour Olivia’s life.
There are many things I have done in my life, but this—continuing to live after Olivia didn’t—is the one that still leaves me in awe. I don’t always know how I did it. And even now, in the middle of a mundane moment, it sometimes hits me—I can't believe any of this happened, and yet, I am still here. Not just surviving, but choosing to live fully—messy, beautiful, and deeply intentional—because I need to do it for both of us.
This space has always been about Olivia, about grief, hope, and the ways we carry love forward. And in some ways, it always will be. At the same time, this is also a space about what comes after—the life that continues, the ways we find joy again, even when it feels impossible.
Here, you will find everything I’ve written since 2016—experiences and thoughts I shared from the early moments of my grief, and much later, when life went back to "normal" (it never really does, though). You will also find the way I try to celebrate Olivia’s birthday—and maybe you'd like to take part from where you are and have a more amazing June.
I also share some of the ways I have learned to live with grief while showing up for others when it has been their turn. This isn’t a perfect guide. There is no perfect guide. But it is what has helped me. And maybe, in some way, it can help you too.
At the same time, I’m stepping into something more. After years of sharing my own story, I’m ready to bring my voice to the world in a different way—helping people navigate the unknown, embrace their magic, and thrive, even when life doesn’t go to plan.
If you are here because you, or someone you love, is going through the worst moment of your life, I am hugging you and sending you so much love. I know it might not feel like it right now, but you can do this. It’s unfair. You shouldn’t have to go through this. And still—I know you will.
Be gentle with yourself. Take all the time you need. Grief isn’t linear, and you will leave nothing and no one behind. They will come with you. And your life will grow with them.