Author:tessa
A heartfelt letter to my son Jade, five years after his death. About grief, motherhood, death, forgiveness, trusting life again, and the unexpected gifts that can emerge from even the deepest winter.
Exploring the phases of the menstrual cycle, this post helps women understand how hormones affect energy, mood, and daily life.
A personal reflection on my journey as a woman, exploring cycle awareness, healing, and learning to come fully home to my body.
A reflection on change through the lens of the feminine cyclic nature, exploring how our bodies and rhythms guide personal growth.
A powerful and tender story of birthing a baby after experiencing stillbirth, exploring grief, hope, and the resilience of the body and spirit.
Reflections on navigating life transitions — those moments when everything familiar shifts and your foundation feels swept away. A reflection on the need for deep support for the nervous system.
When I was asked to write about losing our son Jade, I felt both an instant yes and a deep vulnerability. Stillbirth is often wrapped in silence, yet it is one of the most profound initiations a woman can experience. In this piece I share about grief, ancestral pain, embodied healing, and the truth that every birth — even one that ends in death — births a mother too. Because breaking the silence is part of how we heal.
A personal reflection on friendship between women, shared grief, and a bronze Cherish Stone holding a child’s ashes. This piece honors embodied remembrance—how touch, ritual, and meaningful objects can support the grieving process and keep love close.
Reflections on grief, resilience, and navigating loss, exploring how shifting the question from “Why me?” to “Why not me?” can support healing and self-compassion.
A deeply personal reflection on birthing a baby without a heartbeat. This piece explores the physical, emotional, and spiritual reality of stillbirth, the power that can arise in surrender, and the profound love that can exist even in moments of unbearable loss.
In these past months of grieving I’ve learned something unexpected: not everyone’s tears are mine to carry. Our GP reminded us that people respond from their own pain, their own history — and that I don’t have to take that on. I can meet someone with love and still stay centered in myself. Grief is teaching me boundaries, gentleness, and the radical practice of choosing myself. This is not selfishness. This is self-love.
During Baby Loss Awareness Week I reflect on the unpredictable waves of grief after losing Jade. From deep sorrow to unexpected light, this journey is an invisible earthquake — one that breaks you open, yet slowly rebuilds you into something truer and more aware.