Loving After Loss

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Loving after loss is really hard for many people. I know a lot of people who are divorced, widowed, or single who are terrified to love again. 

They don’t want to have the loss, the grief, or the complication again. 

I get that. But I wanted to love again. 

Brene Brown wrote “We are biologically, cognitively, physically, and spiritually wired to love, be loved, and to belong. When those needs are not met, we don’t function as we were meant to. We break. We fall apart. We numb. We ache. We hurt others. We get sick.”

After Steve died, I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life without a partner. Someone to be my partner in life. To dream with, to build with. 

It makes me mad when amazing women I know don’t fight hard enough for the lives they want. Sure, it doesn’t have to include a man. But it could!

Tim, my second husband, was amazing. He was all the things I dreamed of. I was so incredibly surprised that he already existed! That he was out there, doing his thing, waiting to meet me too. Loving after loss was something we both were doing together! We understood the preciousness of life.

When things got tough with our long-distance relationship or blended family, I knew he was worth it and we were worth fighting for. 

And now? Sure, I’ve questioned if I want the potential heartache again. 

But what I know for sure, is that I’m going to live the hell out of life, make the most of it, and do all the things that bring me joy. I’m going to live bravely and make mistakes. 

And love. 

I want to encourage you to be your brave self. Love more and find where you belong. 

I’m here for you along the way. Join me over on Instagram as I rebuild my life yet again as a “Double Widow” and share the journey with you.

Whitney

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Rock Bottom for Moms

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As I sit here writing the last chapter of my book about Rock Bottom for Moms, I’m thinking of all the women out there who’ve hit their rock bottom during motherhood like me.

I’m thinking about their mom guilt. Mom’s feel guilty about not being the mom they want to be. That their rock bottom moment or moments are taking away from experiences with their children.

I’m thinking about their struggles and sadness. They’re suffering from loss, grief, or miscarriage and infant loss. Their rock bottom might be mental illness or a physical illness. Their rock bottom could be burnout from this darn pandemic thing.

I’m thinking about their children. Their children who love them no matter what. The children who even though their mother has hit rock bottom, need them.

And I’m thinking about their journeys. Rock bottom for moms happens all the time. But it’s usually behind closed doors. We claim to be “fine” and want to appear to have it all together. We have so much pressure to maintain a house, raise the kids, feed them, keep ourselves together, and maybe have a job too.

I want you to know that Rock Bottom isn’t a destination, it’s just a layover. 

A layover is “a period of rest or waiting before a further stage in a journey.” That’s it. Just rest. You’re taking a layover. You’re still on your journey. This isn’t it. Things will get better. I promise. 

I’m writing my book as a tribute to Steve, my late husband. I’m also writing it for moms out there, my friends, my patients, and those I haven’t met yet. I want them to know there’s a way out of rock bottom.

In my book I share with you my story of hitting rock bottom. It can serve as a guide or inspiration. Or just as a comfort to know you’re not alone.

I’ve walked this path too.

Whitney

P.S. Do you want to be in the know about my book launch? Join my Facebook Group for Moms to stay up to date.

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When will I see him again?

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Please don’t ask me when I’ll see Tim again. It hurts my heart.

This is definitely not how I imagined my marriage going. Being a widowed person, remarried, I had high hopes of living with my new husband. Finally getting to do the day-to-day things I had been missing after Steve died.

I was tired of being a solo parent. I was tired of making all the decisions. I was tired of taking care of the house. Being the only one to take the garbage out. The only one to empty the dishwasher.

Marrying Tim gave me hope of things to come.

We knew we wouldn’t be able to live together right away because he lives in the US and I live in Canada. We were working out immigration plans to be together.

But this big thing called the global pandemic got in the way.

My hopes were delayed again.

I feel like I’ve been living in this limbo for 5.5 years since Steve died. The map of the life I imagined got ripped apart.

I know you get this to some degree. The pandemic has changed the map of your life too. The plans you made, the things you were going to do, the people you were going to visit. It’s changed everything.

For me, I don’t know when I will see my husband again. We’ve been fortunate to have seen each other a handful of times over the last year. But it pales in comparison to the plans we had and how often we saw each other before March 2020.

Thank you for caring and wanting to know when we’ll see each other again. Thank you for being concerned. Thank you for feeling compassion for our difficult and unusual situation. I appreciate that.

For now, we are living a long-distance marriage across a closed border with quarantine restrictions, Covid tests, and uncertainty.

For now, we connect through FaceTime, Zoom, and phone dates.

For now, we will both try to live in the moment, enjoy the time with our kids, and not let this moment pass us by. Because one day we will live together and have moments of being sick of each other. But I can’t imagine those days right now.

Whitney

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You’re not broken, just grieving

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I felt like if I could just find someone to date, to fill the void, to be a father for my daughters, it would make me feel better. Then I would be fixed and everything would be ok. ⁠
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But the grieving doesn’t go away. ⁠
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Let me tell you, it’s amazing to have a supportive 2nd husband who loves my kids and me. But at the end of the day, my girls are still missing Steve, their 1st dad. And I’m missing him too. They have 2 dads now. ⁠
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The missing will never go away. I will never be “fixed.”⁠
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I will have a heart with a bit of a scar on it from where it was broken. It won’t go back to how it was before. ⁠
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But that also is good. Because I don’t want to forget Steve or stop loving him. ⁠
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For those of you on your new widowed journey, you may be thinking about dating again. We’re all on our own timetables and journeys. ⁠
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I just want you to know, it won’t fix you. You aren’t broken, just grieving. ⁠
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Hugs,⁠
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Whitney⁠

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Happily Ever After

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Here’s my Top 9 of 2019 from my Instagram @drwhitneyyoung

You know what? 

I think you like love. I think you like a good love story and a happy ending. 

So do I.

I love romantic comedies and all those sappy holiday movies that I watched over the last month that end with them falling in love or having their first kiss. 

But it doesn’t show the real rawness, the stress and excitement of new relationships, the heartache of the first fight, the inevitable misunderstandings, the ups and downs of figuring out how to live together with a blended family.

I’m extremely happy with this next chapter of my life as I was with the chapter that had my first marriage in it. 

I want you to know that these shining happy moments with the beautiful memories are only part of me. 

The grief, the loss, the anger, the sadness. Those also are part of me and my story. 

This next part of my journey, the one that I’m so excited to start on and be part of, will have so many parts to it. I will love the best ones and grow from the tough ones. 

That’s life after all. Choosing love over and over again. Getting up when you fall down. Apologizing for a bad mood, a misstep and getting back to the love. 

Thank you for all for being a part of my journey and for cheering us on. 

xo
Whitney

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Making Moments Matter

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I had a harder time with Father’s Day than I expected. But actually it hit me a day later when I sat down with my counsellor.

“How are you doing?” she asked. The tears started coming.

My younger daughter turned 4 the day before Father’s Day. The collision of the two special days did me in.

On the happiest day of her birthday there is still a shadow caused by the events that happened only a couple of months after her birth.

I still find it hard to look at pictures of her during her first year of life. It transports me back into the pain. The pain of losing my husband, her dad. The pain of my life shattered into a million pieces.

The innocence in her eyes. She didn’t feel the loss like the rest of us did. She had started to bond with him but attachment isn’t solidified by 3 months old.

Leanna met each milestone in her first year of life but if you asked me when she crawled, I don’t know. How horrible is that? I don’t remember. I remember exactly when my first daughter crawled. But my second? I was in a fog. I honestly don’t remember. I was robbed. She was robbed. Steve was robbed.

Father’s Day is another one of those days that reminds me of how he was robbed. How unfair that he only got to enjoy a handful of Father’s Days as a parent? It sucks. But it’s the reality. It is what it is. The grace of acceptance isn’t easy.

As I was searching for photos of Leanna to post on her 4th birthday this past weekend to celebrate her, I stumbled across a photo of the 4 of us. I only thought there was one photo in existence. But here it is. A blurry photo of the 4 of us! Hidden treasure! Here it is! The day that Leanna was born. The moment big sister met little sister. It was a perfect moment.

One of my regrets is that there is only 1 (now 2) photos in the world of the 4 of us as a family. It’s one of those heartbreaking things I realized in the early months after Steve died.

My wish to you is to treasure your moments. Take pictures. Be in pictures. Don’t let your bad outfit, bad hair-day, bad self-image stop you from jumping in pictures with your family. Be part of it. Make those moments matter. Don’t miss out. Enjoy every moment. Treasure every moment. Love is what matters.

Whitney

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