Seven months ago today my first child was born 4 months premature. She lived for 33 hours. Since then it seems that the dominoes have tumbled one by one into the black hole that had become our lives.  Signs and symptoms of an existence and not a life.  We worked ‘at’ things, we paid bills with no end in sight, we began to feel the doom of hopelessness and it finally became too much.

I have not dealt with my grief because I have been too busy maintaining.  Living here and working here means being someone else, putting up a facade that blends in and is ‘acceptable’ to those around us.  The husband (heretofore referred to as Boy) and I are non-conformists by nature, we shrivel in the mundane and balk at society’s ideas of what we should be as individuals and as a couple.  We are ourselves and we are far past tired of apologizing for that.

This blog is about life and death and grief and starting over, being new, recreation and regeneration.  It’s about fighting stagnation.  I welcome you to the journey.