Miracle Millie: The Book is Live!

I wrote a book. It’s very near and dear to my heart; I love the way it turned out, but I’m under no delusions that it’s perfect. I had to let go the chase for perfection, or this book would have never seen the light of day. And, more than anything, I want people to read it. I want people to share it with their kids: the kids who knew Millie and the kids who didn’t. I want us all to remember.

I had a dream a few years ago, about six months after Millie died. I don’t remember the details (and didn’t remember them upon waking), but there was a vivid image imprinted in my mind: Millie riding on the back of a bird, flying past the Bean in Chicago. It was so real. I mean, obviously, it was not real: kids don’t ride birds around the streets of Chicago. But my half-asleep self was convinced that this needed to become a reality. So I decided to take that snapshot and turn it into a story.

This book has been written in fits and spurts since then. A true labor of love, it has seen many iterations before this one. But I like this one best. And I hope you like it too! You can buy it on Amazon here:

https://a.co/d/1GvxO4d

This fall has been particularly challenging for me. With Nate starting kindergarten, there has been an influx of new people in my life. So many wonderful people, and so many of whom I am now honored to call friends. But with meeting new people comes the often painful choice of deciding what to tell those people. Do I have 2 kids, or 3? Is Nate my oldest? Do I think about adding a third? All these questions are so loaded for me. It’s in my nature to keep Millie tucked away inside my heart until I decide if someone is trustworthy or deserving of hearing her story. But in doing so, I keep a big part of myself tucked away. And then it all feels insincere.

I’ve spent so much time and energy in the last 3+ years trying not to define myself as “the mom with the dead daughter.” Finishing this book, putting it out in the world, slogging through my memories to get here, made me realize something: I am the mom with the dead daughter. That’s not all I am, but it’s a big part of me. And I have to own that part, just like the other parts of myself. Millie’s story deserves to be heard, and so does mine 💜

I would love to hear your thoughts. I would love to see pictures of you reading it with your kids. Show me the battered copy sitting on a shelf in your playroom, edges torn and pages missing from being read so many times. I would love for this story to be shared with all the people I know and love, and with anyone you know and love. I will cry (big surprise), but they will be mostly-happy tears. Call me, text me, email me, tag me on instagram… I want to be part of this story, wherever it goes!