On March 5, 2011 at 12:06am, I found my four-month old son, Mason, dead in his bed.
I had just leaned over his pack n play to give him a kiss good night before going to sleep when I realized his skin was ice cold… and that he wasn’t breathing.
That’s the day that I stopped living.
I’ve spent the last eight years barely hanging on, only half living, as I tried to find normalcy and come to terms with the pain that comes with losing a child. I’ve isolated myself as I tried to figure out how I can protect my four living children, trying to do everything in my power to make sure they don’t die and that nothing bad ever happens to them. Even writing this, I know how impossible this is. Kids get hurt, some even die, and there’s nothing I can do to guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen to them. It has been exhausting trying to bubble away my kids and my life from the world while still half-heartedly trying to remain a part of it. I’ve worn myself down into a pit of dark depression, feeling as if I’m smothering from the worry and the fear that I’ve let consume my life since Mason died.
But there is light in the darkness.
Losing Mason has taken my family and I on a natural living journey that I could never begin to summarize in just one post. In our grief, we bought some land and decided to start an organic homestead (even though we had no gardening/farming experience to speak of), and I started getting heavily involved in activism to try and help save our children from all the toxic exposure that is stripping kids of normal lives via chronic illness (and for some kids—it’s killing them).
My family has had amazing adventures as we’ve tried to unravel the truth about how to live a healthy life, hosting several documentary crews at our farm and hundreds of other fun events and get togethers with an assortment of interesting characters and lessons learned. And the adventures are only getting bigger and better as time passes. I’ve come to realized that I have to start documenting it. This life we life… it’s pretty amazing.
I just have to start fully living again.
This year, I’ve chosen one word to summarize my goals for my life, marriage, parenting, career and writing goals for 2019.
This year I’m letting go, taking big chances, going scared, being brave, and accepting that nothing in this life is fully in my control— and it never has been.
I invite you to follow along in 2019 as I show you what it means to live a natural lifestyle on our homestead in the wake of tragedy. Read along as I rebuild everything from the ground up— my farm, my homeschool, my family, my company, my soul, my life, and my faith. I’ll continue to teach you what I’ve learned about how to grow food, how to turn that food into delicious meals, how to take care of your family with natural remedies, holistic nutrition, clean living, essential oils, etc. But, in this new chapter of my life, I’ll also show you what I’m learning about healing, self-compassion, forgiveness, perseverance, strength, happiness, faith, and hope.
I’m still learning to balance it all.
This is my story.