(This is Part 2 of a series. Click here for Part 1).

Outside of the game, my husband and I were sleeping in separate beds. Divorce became the next logical step, instead of something we never thought we’d consider. And I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was painful to be with my son. Every time I looked at him, I just felt empty, reminded of the fact that he used to have a sister. I couldn’t take him to the park because the three of us had gone to the park, together. The sight of other young children was like a knife twisted in my chest. I couldn’t even walk by a Starbucks without remembering her asking, “Mommy, want coffee?”

This is what grief does. It carves a hole inside of you; a treacherous cavern that you know will cave in with just the slightest touch. But I didn’t want to face grief. I thought I could outpace it, and even if I was just one step ahead, it would be okay.
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I never imagined I would need an escape from my day to day life.

At the age of 30 I was married, successful in my career, and mother to two beautiful children. But that year, my world came crashing down. My daughter – just two years old – was forced to fight a devastating bone marrow disorder called Aplastic Anemia. Her bone marrow was unable to produce new blood cells. My husband and I were left helpless and we agonized as our baby girl fought for her life.
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