After all my loss in the last eight months, I began wishing 2017 away. I think I lost count after the 4,618th time I said: “2017 can’t end soon enough.” I may have even suggested 2017 should “Suck it” a time or two. No one seemed to argue my sentiment.

It was truly the year that wouldn’t end.

Each day seemed to bring its own new heartache: the loss of my precious child and three other special friends, the loss of my job, the leaving of my fiancé, and the loss of the step-daughter I almost had. And then there were the firsts: the first of my son’s birthdays where he didn’t become another year older, the first anniversary of the day my ex and I met, the first of my birthdays without a card signed by my eldest baby, the first half-year mark since his death, the first Thanksgiving without him, what should have been the first anniversary of my engagement, and the first of so many Christmas traditions that my baby was missing from.

And as soon as 2017 left, as soon as that ball dropped in Times Square ringing in 2018, I wanted my 2017 back.

While my last year will be forever defined by the aforementioned tragedies and struggles, it never occurred to me everything else that 2017 was…

2017 was the year my baby died. It was also the last year he was alive.

2017 was the year I became an Angel Mom, a club no person wants membership to. It was also a year I became an unwitting member of a community of amazing, compassionate strangers who set out to comfort each other as we forge along this unknown path.

2017 was the year of unfathomable heartache. It was also a year of seeing God’s provision and blessings in the midst of my darkest hours.

2017 was the year my fiancé left me. It was also the year that I was finally chosen to be a fiancé to a man I loved, even if the months were fleeting.

2017 was the year of great personal loss. It was also the year that friends, family and acquaintances came forward and showed extraordinary love and kindness.

2017 was a year of deep financial loss. It was also the year I was humbled when so many gave generously to see me through the months after Tanner’s death.

2017 was a year of heart-wrenching days without my angel. It was also the year I realized how strong I could be when I had no choice.

2017 was the first experience with any form of mental health issues as I battled PTSD, debilitating depression and anxiety. It was also the year I became aware of the amount of pain all around us and became truly empathetic to those with brain injuries and mental illness.

2017 was the year I lost the opportunity to spend one more minute with my precious Tanner. It was also the year I truly changed my priorities, put my phone away, and became far more present with the people I love.

2017 was the year my heart lost a massive piece when my baby took a part of it to heaven. It was also the year I realized there was still room to love more orphaned kids into our family.

2017 was a year marked by sorrow. It was also the year I realized the pursuit of joy is truly a choice.

More than anything, looking back, I’ve learned life is truly about perspective and choices. How we choose to perceive and react to what life sends our way is entirely dependent on us.

Choosing to pursue joy is a choice.

For Tanner, it came naturally. For me? Not so much, but I will strive to live (and love) more like Tanner in 2018.

As much as a part of me now wants to hold tightly onto 2017 with all my might, I have learned that some things just can’t be held onto.

Moments are fleeting.

Time is precious.

Life is to be lived fully and joyfully.

Okay, 2018… I’m all yours.

#LiveLikeTanner

Apologies in advance for the vague posting.

My life just took another very difficult and unexpected turn…

Please continue to pray.

This is where it began.

I waited 41 years to find the man I wanted to marry. When I finally met him, he was different from anything I ever imagined, but somehow it worked and we knew it was meant to be. On this day last year, December 14th, I agreed to be his wife.

Everything seemed to be in place. I had a man I loved, two amazing sons I adored, a step-daughter-to-be that I was becoming closer with by the day, and a future that I was excited for. It was a brand new life and a whole new world.

And I was getting spoiled… spoiled by a man who would have dinner ready when I walked in from auction, spoiled by having my doors held open and a hand to hold, spoiled by having a partner for the first time in my life.

When I look back on this past year, December 14, 2016 is where it all began. It was the high before the fall. It was one of the most special times in my life… and just as fast as it seemed to come, it was gone.

I won’t pretend everything was perfect. As with any relationship, we encountered trials as we adjusted to our new lives together and a blending of our families.

A few days after my son died, a friend brought dinner and pulled me aside. “If you love him, let him go,” she said. Again she repeated herself, “If you love him, let him go.” Her advice was to give him my blessing to take six months off from our relationship in hopes we would come out the other side of the devastating loss together.

An angel mom herself, she knew the pain of losing a child and the road ahead of me. She knew the strains such a magnificent loss would place on a young relationship. She also knew the compounding pain of losing the man you love when your love can’t withstand the pain of death.

Even the strongest of marriages sometimes fail to survive the death of a child.

And we were so new: only four months into an engagement after a whirlwind romance. As my ex and I started to seriously struggle in the weeks after Tanner’s death, my friend’s advice repeated over and over in my head.

I wish I had taken it.

I often wonder if I could have saved my relationship.

Throughout my loss of Tanner, I have shared and been so honest about so much. But around June and July I began to feel like a fraud. I wasn’t telling you the whole truth, I wasn’t being fully transparent. For a while, as my relationship began to fail, I stopped writing updates. I was ashamed. I was heartbroken. My brain couldn’t compartmentalize the losses and everything began to blend. I couldn’t talk about my grief over my son without talking about my grief over the loss of a love I was desperately trying to hold onto… and I just wasn’t prepared to admit I had failed to keep my fragile family together in the wake of my baby earning his angel wings.

So I just stopped talking, I stopped sharing.

But this is a part of my story. Losing the man I loved in the way I did was a significant contributor to my breaking… it was all too much. I want other angel moms walking this same path to know they’re not alone.

The last few months I have dreaded today. Dreaded the reminder of what I had and what I lost. Dreaded the day that seemed to set the worst year of my life into motion. I’ve cried heavy tears wishing I could make today never come.

But it’s here. And I am strangely at peace.

Waking up, I thought back to the entry from Jesus Calling that I read on October 5th. Another day I was yearning to avoid, it marked the one-year anniversary of meeting my ex.

“Remember that Joy is not dependent on your circumstance… Do not judge a day devoid of Joy just because it contains difficulties. Instead, concentrate on staying in communication with Me… If you make problem-solving secondary to the goal of living close to Me, you can find Joy in even your most difficult of days.”

I confess I have held onto a deep hatred for the woman who injected herself into my engagement. She knew the loss we had experienced and the fragility of our relationship. She didn’t just take my fiancé, but she robbed me of the girl who was to be my daughter. She took a father and a sister from my son who has just lost his brother and best friend. Her presence exponentially compounded the pain and magnified the grief.

But I have to let go of hate if I want to find Joy.

And Joy is what I seek… for me, for my son and our tiny little family. It is truly what I now wish for my ex and the new family he created.

Yes, it might only be the 14th of December, but today marks the first day of a new year. I don’t have the same Joy that I had on this day last year. But rather than placing my joy in the promises of a fallible human and a stunning diamond ring, today — this new year — I am going to seek to find my Joy in Him.

For His promises will never fail.

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**Please keep any comments kind. This post is not to bash or find fault. It’s about being honest, my path and seeking Joy. My blog is currently being fixed and this post will be added when it is.**

(The photo is my engagement announcement photo from last year.)

Today was “fun”… part way through Christmas shopping at Target I broke. I was near the back of the store and tears just began streaming down my face. Afraid I couldn’t get to the restrooms at the front without making a scene, I found a corner and hid as I waited for the wave of sadness to pass.

I shouldn’t be buying presents for just one son.

I stand there staring at things my Tanner loved. I have to hold them. I have to touch them. And then, with tears, I have to put them back. My heart is aching for the baby I lost.

To echo what Trav recently said: This is hard.

It is so very, very hard.

I love you, my baby in Heaven.

I swear, if I could order a house-call masseuse at midnight without being worried it might be confused as soliciting… I would already be dialing the phone!

After two days at Del Mar, mucking, moving horses, moving bags of feed and shavings and running around, my entire body is tense and I’m more sore than I can remember being in a very long time!

But it’s a good sore. It’s a sore that says I’m still living and I’m starting to “do” again. And it’s a sore that says I’m going to sleep very well tonight… if I ever make it to bed!