Is this a true story?

Yes. Barb Higgins is a real person who shared their own story in their own words. Kintsugi Heroes is a not-for-profit that shares first-person stories of overcoming adversity, told with the person's consent.

What organisation produced this?

Kintsugi Heroes, a registered Australian not-for-profit. Every story is shared with the hero's own consent and reviewed under Kintsugi Heroes' trauma-informed content standard before it goes public.

What did Barb Higgins learn from this experience?

Barb learned she had three brain tumors while pursuing IVF after Molly's death, and believes Molly orchestrated the whole process to get her off medications and find the life-threatening growths in time.

What would Barb Higgins want listeners to know?

When Molly was sick, no doctor listened closely enough to her symptoms; Barb now tells people that if one doctor, therapist, or counselor doesn't hear you, there are hundreds more who will.

What helped Barb Higgins most along the way?

Barb spent two years numb on the living room floor with Gracie after Molly died, and calls this the tragic part of her story, not because there is a right way to grieve, but because she managed it by shutting down.

What would Barb Higgins tell someone going through something similar?

Jack doesn't replace Molly; he evens the score by giving Barb two sons and two daughters, and by bringing her back to life in a way that lets Molly live on through the joy he brings.

What topics does this episode cover?

This conversation includes a typical american life, the girl who gave away her own things, the week that blew everything up, 1,300 people and a musical review, two years on the living room floor and the dreams that wouldn't stop.

The Pain of Losing a Child and the Slow Climb Back with Barb Higgins

Kintsugi Studio

The Pain of Losing a Child and the Slow Climb Back with Barb Higgins | Kintsugi Heroes Stories

Overview

Barb Higgins was living the life she had always worked for: a teacher in her hometown, married to Kenny, with two daughters Gracie and Molly. She had built something that felt solid and safe. In April 2016, when Molly fell ill with headaches and vomiting, doctors dismissed the symptoms as stress. By the time Barb returned from a vacation in Amsterdam, Molly was in an emergency room, unconscious. A brain tumour had ruptured in her brainstem. After a week on life support, Molly died. She was thirteen.

What followed were two years on the living room floor with Gracie, both of them frozen in grief, numbed by medication and alcohol. But seven months after Molly's death, Barb began having repeated dreams about having a baby. Doctors told her she was too old at fifty-three. She didn't listen. While pursuing fertility treatment, an MRI revealed three benign brain tumours in Barb's own head, one of them compressing her carotid artery and likely fatal within another year if left untreated. She had brain surgery and radiation. She grieved. She kept going. On May 7th, 2019, the anniversary of Molly's death, a dance friend of Molly's named Rachel died on life support, and her kidney went to Kenny. Rachel had danced at Molly's funeral. The connections kept multiplying.

In March 2020, at fifty-seven years old, Barb gave birth to Jack on the vernal equinox. His arrival did not erase the loss of Molly. Instead, it allowed Barb to live again. She speaks now of thousands of tiny steps, not one big moment. Of finding someone willing to listen with their eyes and see with their ears. Of accepting what is real, even when it breaks you.

⚠️ Content advisory: this episode discusses addiction & recovery and grief & loss, which some listeners may find distressing.

If you need support, you're not alone. Help is available: • SMART Recovery Australia (addiction): smartrecoveryaustralia.com.au • ReachOut: au.reachout.com • Lifeline (24/7 crisis support): 13 11 14 · lifeline.org.au • GriefLine: 1300 845 745 · griefline.org.au

Chapters

0:00
A typical American life
Barb introduces herself as a lifelong educator who built the white picket fence dream after a rough childhood and competitive athletic career.
3:31
The girl who gave away her own things
Barb describes Molly's character: a 13-year-old who packed two lunches to give away, noticed when others were invisible, and belonged to everyone in her school.
7:20
The week that blew everything up
In April 2016, Molly got sick with headaches and vomiting; doctors dismissed it as stress while Barb was on vacation in Amsterdam when the symptoms worsened into emergency.
12:15
1,300 people and a musical review
Molly's funeral became a celebration where her friends performed songs and scenes she loved, and Barb learned who Molly had touched in ways she never saw during life.
16:00
Two years on the living room floor
After the attention faded, Barb and Gracie lived in a frozen bubble, sleeping downstairs, using alcohol and medication to numb, while Kenny got sicker and the lawsuit dragged on.
21:45
The dreams that wouldn't stop
Seven months after Molly died, Barb started having repeated dreams about having a baby; her first doctor dismissed the idea at 53, but she kept searching for someone who would listen.
27:30
Three brain tumors on her own MRI
While pursuing IVF, Barb's neurologist calls with shocking news: three benign tumors in her head, one compressing her carotid artery, likely fatal within another year if left untreated.
33:15
The kidney that dances
Rachel, Molly's dance friend, dies on May 7th, Molly's death anniversary, and her kidney goes to Kenny; Barb frames it as a way to keep Molly alive while honouring Rachel's gift.
39:20
The fetal echocardiogram and the autopsy
At 22 weeks pregnant, Barb meets the cardiologist who performed the autopsy on baby Gordy, her first stillborn, 21 years before; that baby's heart helped save 11 other children.
44:15
One push and a March baby
Jack arrives on the vernal equinox, March 20th, after preeclampsia; Barb names him after another bereaved mother's son, a connection made through her growing network of parents who lost children.
49:50
Laughter as a survival tactic
Barb explains why she laughed during Molly's final week on life support: losing laughter means losing footing, and she needed both to survive.
53:50
A thousand tiny steps and finding someone to listen
Barb's final word to others facing their own fractures: take the first small step, and find someone willing to listen with their eyes and see with their ears.

1 of 7

The girl who gave away her own things

Aveline Clark (Host) · 03:31

Well, as I said before, my name is Barb Higgins, and I am as typical as they come when it comes to American women. I live where I grew up. I am a lifelong educator, wanted to be a teacher since I was a little girl, and have had one of those lives that has had the greatest of the greatest and the worst of the worst when it comes to experiences in time. Um, in spite of all of it, every challenge that life seems to bring, I've been faced with the backed-up-against-the-wall decision to to be okay and make good with, with what's happened to me or let it consume me. And, and so the story I'm going to share is sort of the, the biggest of the big in terms of what I've gone through in my life. So I am 59 years old and I didn't get married or have children until later in life in my thirties. And I had a very, very rough childhood and it was very tricky. And I just thought that if I stayed single and never had children, that I could sort of break the patterns that existed in my family around, you know, abuse and poverty and all of the things that can come with rural New England families, I think. Oh, although families anywhere. Went to college. I was a Division I All-American in track and field. I enjoyed a wonderful, you know, my 20s. I ran for Nike and traveled all over the United States and had a wonderful time being a competitive athlete. And then I returned home and began teaching in the district, the school district that I went to as a child. Um, I, got married and divorced and decided that that was enough with marriage and had a few single years and then met Kenny, um, and decided that maybe marriage would be okay. Um, I had a baby early on that didn't make it out of my belly, and I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen. I, I grew that baby for 25 weeks and had to deliver him. He had a very bad heart defect, and he plays into my later story quite significantly. But it was at that time that I decided maybe I did want to be a mother. And I gave birth to Gracie in 2001 and Molly in 2003. And I thought that there I was, my house is white, it has a picket fence, it represents the American dream. I could walk to the school I taught at. I lived in a community where I was connected and I knew everybody. And so I didn't think that, you know, any of these things would change. Life being what it is, decided to show me that life indeed could change. So the story I'm going to share begins with the sudden death of my daughter Molly and sort of culminates with the birth of my son Jack. So yes, I am 59 and I have a 2-year-old son. So this is sort of where the story goes. So as I said before, I was just living a very, very typical life, a very lucky life. I have had, in spite of my struggles, I am very, very privileged in terms of I live in a supportive community. I have a wonderful family. I have friends and a network around me that is supportive in every way. Shortly before my daughter Molly began to get sick, my life was in a bit of a turmoil. I had a job loss, you know, my marriage was suffering. We all go through these sort of traumatic and tumultuous times. Molly and Gracie were becoming teenagers. It was 2014, 2015 when my life sort of, aside from Molly, sort of began to unravel. Molly was never sick, so I never had all of this time that I, that I could try to heal her, her, or get ready for her death. Molly was alive and then she wasn't. In the spring of 2016, so right, really April is a very hard month for me, 7 years ago this month Molly's behavior began to change and she began to suffer from headaches and vomiting and all sorts of bizarre symptoms. We had minimal luck with the doctors, they just seemed to sort of write it off as stress, they thought maybe she was too thin, They thought perhaps she had a sinus infection. Trip after trip to the doctor's office with 13-year-old Molly, oftentimes her sister Gracie in tow. Gracie was 15 at the time, and we couldn't seem to get any answers. Gracie and Molly are incredibly close, and they have been incredibly close since the day they were born. And I like to think that they're still incredibly close. If, if, if everything we believe about souls in the universe is true, then I think Molly's right here all the time. So as April marched along, Molly's behaviors and symptoms began to get worse. And we just trip after trip to the doctor's office. I went on a vacation. The last week of April is a vacation week in the United States. Schools are off, well, in the northeast part of the United States anyway, schools are off and families travel. And I went with a friend to Amsterdam for a week and I had a wonderful time. That vacation proved to be sort of one of my biggest regrets because it was the last week that Molly was alive. When I flew home, I was greeted with an unconscious Molly in an emergency room, and I was horrified. Her symptoms had gotten incredibly worse when I was away on this vacation, and Kenny, Molly's dad, had taken her to the ER via ambulance, which was the right thing to do, or so I thought at the time. During my week in Amsterdam, I had this clutching moment. I went to the Anne Frank Museum And I was, I had this rush of panic and it coincided exactly with Molly here, waking up in the night and vomiting and vomiting and, and Kenny and Gracie being very concerned about her. It was like 9 in the morning in Amsterdam. So it would have been 2 in the morning here. And I just had, I was sitting in this museum and I'm reading all these beautiful words by Otto Frank and something made me cry. And it was him reflecting on the fact that he learned so much about his daughter because he read her diary, which he never would have read. Had she not died. So he came to know and love his daughter in a profound way after her death. And it just gutted me. And I sat on that bench in that museum for a good 45 minutes trying to collect myself. So I flew home, you know, the vacation ended, I came back and went to the ER. And we spent 16 hours there fighting for medical care, fighting for a CT scan, you know, what's wrong, they wouldn't let us take her home, but they wouldn't do any testing, gave her medicine, made her sleep. And at the end of this time, a brain tumor ruptured in her, in her brainstem and killed her. In an effort to, I think, buy themselves time and appease us and give us hope, they rushed her to a larger hospital and removed the brain tumor. But the damage had been done. And after a week on life support, with every intervention possible, we had to unplug Molly. So here's my life. I'm teaching, I'm coaching, I have friends, I have a social life. My daughters dance, they do theater. Gracie's enjoying her first year of high school, Molly's thriving in middle school, and it just blows up in my face is the best way to describe it. It was the only time I think I've understood what it might feel like to wake up to an earthquake, and everything you know is in, in rubble around you. That's how my life felt at that time. And so began, you know, sort of the next piece of my life. We have, as I said, a community that loves us, and Molly's death affected hundreds and hundreds of young people and old people, quite honestly. Molly was a light, and she was a fighter for those who who couldn't fight for themselves. She, she was the first one to notice when something was wrong, or somebody was being mistreated, or somebody didn't have something they needed. So I packed her 2 lunches a day all of her life, and she gave away things like her Easter basket and her favorite Christmas present. And, you know, she would earn points in class, and you could pick prizes out of a raffle, out of a basket, you know, or win a raffle with your homework tickets. And Molly would pick the nicest thing and give it to the child that never had their homework in. She just— that was just who she was. So we probably had— we had several hundred visitors come to see her when she was on life support. I thought it would be a better way for her friends to say goodbye to her, rosy-cheeked. You know, she was all plugged in and everything, but she still looked like Molly. Um, and that was a hugely helpful, um, experience for me, quite honestly, because I learned so much about her, um, and I got to meet all these amazing people children and their parents, teachers, the custodian at her school that used to leave candy in her locker because he watched her be so kind and helpful. And she would say hi to him. She called him Mr. John and said hi every day. And sometimes those people are invisible. You know, you have a big building and the people that clean it blend in sometimes like they're less important. And that didn't sit well with Molly. So her funeral was, was a musical review. Molly B: The Musical, we called it. And 1,300 people came, filled that theater, and watched all of her friends perform, um, singing, dancing, scenes from plays, you know, all sorts of things. All the things that Molly loved to do were represented and dedicated to her in this amazing performance. And then that all goes away, you know, all that attention sort of stops, and life became very bleak for us. And I have to say I think back to those times and I get a knot in my stomach and I'm terrified because I don't ever want to feel that way again. And I wouldn't, I wouldn't wish those feelings, um, on, on my worst enemy. Think of losing, like you lose your child in the mall or you're a child and you lose your mom and you're in that panic-stricken moment. Where is she? Where is she? Where is she? Oh my gosh. It felt just like that for months and months and months. Her death was so sudden that none of us had any time to prepare for it. My story sort of branches off in three sort of parallel journeys here. At this time. So Molly died in May, May 7th. And around July, I started having all these funny dreams, strange dreams about having a baby. So I thought I was just crazy. You know, I'm suffering from, from, you know, grief and trauma. And of course, I'm having these dreams. I didn't say anything to anybody. I didn't quite know how to, how to manage them. But after a few months of these dreams, I went to my doctor and explained to her the dreams I was having. I went to my, you know, obstetrician, And she sort of wagged a finger at me and, and sort of scolded me and said, "You get that idea out of your head. You're far too old." I was 53 at the time. So she wasn't wrong necessarily. And I came home feeling a bit angry that I wasn't listened to or respected by my physician, and a little scared that, you know, maybe I was too old to have a baby. And what do I do with this dream and this voice in my head that's telling me to do this? And so I just sort of sat on that information for a while. Also at this time, Gracie and Molly's dad Kenny was getting sicker and sicker. He has a— had a kidney disease and was just becoming more and more ill and weak. And of course, the death of a child does nothing for your health. And along with this as well, my ability to cope caused me to be taking all sorts of medication, psychological medication, anti-panic, help me sleep, help me wake up, keep me focused, you know, keep me numb, all of, all of the medications that I think sometimes we overprescribe. I can't believe I could function on them all, but I did. I was wide awake all day and most of the night. I was also at this time really drinking a copious amount of alcohol. I could make it to about 2 or 3 in the afternoon, and then I was just done. I just had to have a drink and have several more and, and, and get numb. It was a truly miserable place to be. So I have all of this going on sort of at the same time. I was not working at the time. I quit my job and was trying to take care of Gracie. So I, I think back to these years as this indescribable hell where everything sort of looks normal but nothing is normal. The months went along and the dreams continued. And also at this time, we entered into a lawsuit with the hospital and some of the physicians involved in Molly's death. And there is nothing kind or attractive about a medical malpractice lawsuit. Nothing. Both sides, you know, the— my side is the death of a child, the hospital side is saving money and, and the reputation of their doctors. And it's an impossible scenario to find compromise other than a lawsuit that has some sort of settlement. So that was a 2-year experience for us. So in the beginning of, you know, the, the end of 2016, moving into 2017, that whole sort of first year after Molly's death, all of these things were going on. And I followed through on the baby, the baby thing, whatever it was at the time. I went, I went to my— I found a new obstetrician. He was completely supportive of me following through on this journey, just a different mindset. He steered me in the direction of several clinics in the Boston area. I found a clinic that accepted women in their 50s, this wonderful Italian, Italian obstetrician named Vito Cardoni. He was just, he's the most delicious human being ever is the best way I can describe him. He's retired now. I was one of his last patients. And so, and we also clicked. And so the testing is significant. I had to have a full, full battery of physical tests myself. And I had to, um, you know, make sure that my body could actually, you know, grow a baby. And I, and I, and it's, you know, colonoscopy, mammogram, um, EKG, all, all these different tests to make sure that my body was healthy and solid. I did all this on my own. I had not yet included Kenny because I didn't want to include anyone to then find out I couldn't do it. I just thought I'll follow through and see if it can even happen. And I was given, you know, I was given the green light to do this in 2017. But we had no money. I wasn't yet working. I was still a disaster emotionally. And we were still thick in the lawsuit. And so I just looked at the sky and said, stop. I can't do this anymore. And so for the next 2 years, I lived a very, very bleak existence. And this would be, I think, the tragic part of my story. I don't think there's a right way to grieve. I, I will never in a million years tell anyone how to respond to traumatic events in their lives. I'm not them. I don't live inside their heart or their brain, and no one lives inside me. And I, I managed it terribly. I put on a good face. I took good care of my daughter. Um, her life was able to continue in a relatively stable way. The two of us slept on the living room floor for 2 years. We couldn't manage to come upstairs. You know, it was just too painful. Lots and lots of things of Molly's stayed right where they were untouched. This, this, we just lived in this frozen sort of bubble. And I, and I abused all manner of alcohol and drugs at this time. I just couldn't, I couldn't face anything. And Kenny got sicker and sicker and sicker. So you can imagine, I mean, you know, I had support and love around us. So I was never hungry. And I managed to pay my bills as best I could. And, you know, I was safe in those regards. You know, there are people that have it much worse in those areas than I did. I, I still had my home. I, you know, I slept on the floor, but it was a comfortable floor. You know, I had all of that. As 2018 started, it was spring went into summer, we settled our lawsuit almost 2 years to the day that Molly died. Um, and once the lawsuit was settled and the financial pieces worked out, the dreams came back. And by this time I had shared with Kenny that I had, that I had done this process. And, and I, I would have done it by myself, I, you know, I wasn't relying on any— so I didn't have any details around the purpose of this child other than to have one. So Kenny jumped right on board. He said, I would love to be a part of this journey. He and I were struggling. Our marriage was— we had actually divorced by this time, but we were still living together. You can't, you can't separate your family when you lose one-fourth of it. So Kenny Gracie and I just became, you know, this trio of three doing the best that we could under, under our roof. But he was, he was on board and game for this challenge. And so We were having coffee. It was like late June, early July of 2018. And I said, hey, Kenny, guess what dream I had last night? And he said, the baby dream. And I said, yes. And so we picked up and began the journey again. So the first thing that I had to do was go off all this medication. So I often, often say here that I acknowledge those people that are drug addicts and alcoholics, people that are truly addicted in a very unhealthy way to drugs, because this was the hardest thing physically that I've done. And I've done some pretty hard things physically. I'm a distance runner and a CrossFit athlete. I know what it is to hurt. Um, and I've lost a child, so it's not like I haven't been in a bad place, but the physical side effects and the withdrawal effects of all the medications I was on was, was incredibly painful. So this was, you know, August of 2018, and it took me all the way until December. During this time, I had to redo a lot of the medical tests. Um, to make sure I was still, 2 years later, healthy enough to have a baby. I was 55 now, which in this particular clinic was the age limit. So I felt some pressure that I should, you know, I have to do this, I have to do this. As I went off all the medication, I began to have extreme jaw pain. So I have a condition called trigeminal neuralgia, which is a nerve condition in the brain. You have a nerve in the brain that controls your face, and it controls your eyes, and then the middle of your face, and then your jaw. And so My, my version of this disorder made me feel like I had a toothache all the time, and a toothache is horrifying, pain in the face. And so they treat it with pretty significant seizure medicine, anti-seizure medicine. So I realized there's no way that I can go off this seizure medicine. I'm going to hurt too much. How am I going to be pregnant for 9 months with a knife in my face? And so I found a neurologist, and there was a— there's a brain surgery that you can have to repair this mouth condition. So I met with Dr. Cardone. This might hold it up a few months. I need to repair this. Is this okay? That's fine. You know, let us know when, you know, you'll need to have, you know, permission from the neurologist to continue with the IV, you know, the baby process. So I'm, I'm feeling hopeful now. It's December of 2018. I've turned, you know, we're 2 and a half years now out. I'm not feeling better about Molly being gone, but I'm feeling a bit more able to manage life and I'm going off all this medication. So things are becoming clearer, which, which was wonderful and awful at the same time. I could see and feel joy better, but I could also see and feel pain better. But I was optimistic. I'm doing— I'm following through. I'm going to have this baby. I just know it's going to happen. So I had to have an MRI to make sure the neurologist could fix my mouth, and he was located in New York City. So he simply said, schedule a local MRI. And once you have, you know, have had it, schedule a follow-up with me and we'll see if we can fix your mouth. So I went and had the MRI. Gracie was a senior in high school at this time. Kenny was as sick as sick could be. We're sitting at the kitchen table after my MRI and my neurologist calls me on the phone and I look at my cell phone and I think, okay, you don't get a phone call 1 hour after a neurological exam with good news. You just don't. What is wrong with me now? And so I pick up the phone and say hello, and Dr. Tanase, my wonderful, my wonderful Polish neurologist, says to me in her very, very thick accent, "I'm so sorry, your MRI shows 3 brain tumors." So I'm just in stunned silence now because I spent, you know, 6 weeks fighting for my daughter Molly to get her head looked at. And the whole time I was fighting for her, not knowing she had a brain tumor, I had them as well. So the hardest part for that piece of news was, was realizing that had I known I had brain tumors, I might have been able to save Molly. The other hard piece was Gracie, because she was just wanting to be a normal high school senior. She didn't want to be this, the girl with the dead sister. She didn't want to be the girl with a really sick dad. What she wanted to be was a normal high school senior. So now we have to tell her that not only does she have a sick father and a dead sister, but she has a mother with 3 brain tumors in her head. That was a pretty bad day. I have to be honest, that wasn't as bad as Molly's death, but it was a close second because poor Gracie just doesn't know what to think. And she just wants to be happy and normal. I traveled to New York City and this wonderful man, Dr. Eskandar, Emad Eskandar, he's from Turkey. He told me to come right down. I had the MRI, the MRI was sent. And by the time I arrived, he had looked at it from every possible angle. And after several questions and a neurological exam, he said, well, I don't know how you're as healthy as you are with that giant tumor in your head, but it looks to be a benign tumor. It looks easily operable. You just tell Gracie that you are going to be fine. I will make sure of it. Which, you know, that's a pretty big promise for a doctor to make before you cut your head open. So I went, I had all sorts of medical testing. And they were also— I didn't, I didn't have medical insurance yet at the time. Although we had settled our lawsuit, the finances take a long time. And so I was still on sort of government-supported medical insurance. So nothing gets approved. You have to— it's a very limiting network of doctors and all. And I don't know, they worked magic because I never paid a penny for any of, any of the treatment done for me at that hospital. So I returned to New York in January, January 10th, 2019. He told me it would be a little scar on the side of my head, not to cut my hair or anything. I woke up with half a head shaved and the biggest, most giant scar ever. It was a lot bigger than it looked. And, uh, he had to make some adjustments in the surgery. But he said it was benign. It was sitting right on my optic and auditory nerve. And it was compressing my carotid artery. So another 6 months to a year, and it likely would have killed me. It wasn't cancerous. But it was just in a very, very tricky place. So my first thought is, this is why I was supposed to have a baby. My big belief at the time was that Molly, in her wisdom on the other side, now knew I had this brain tumor and had to come up with a way for me to find it. You know, how can I get her off all that medicine? How can I make her find this brain tumor? I know, I'll make her have a baby. So, so that was sort of where my thought process— it act— my thoughts actually remain that way now. I, I do believe in miracles, and this is where the miraculous side of my story begins to take place. I'm now really clean and sober from all of the medicines and the alcohol that were keeping me calm. I've had this massive craniotomy. I had to have radiation. And then I could have my mouth condition fixed, which was the whole reason I went to this neurologist in the first place. So from January through April, I was either getting my head cut open or it was getting blasted with radiation. In the meantime, Kenny is sort of getting sicker and sicker and sicker. But again, I have a family. My mother moved in, my sister-in-law moved in. We had all of this help. Gracie could just continue to live her life. I slept on a mattress in the living room for a long time so I wouldn't have to go upstairs. Um, getting your head cut open twice doesn't— does not do a lot for your vision or your balance or your ability to think. And so, and so that was a pretty long, drawn-out process, and nowhere during that time was I thinking about a baby. I was just really trying to be healthy and well. Gracie, Kenny, and I went to Florida at the end of April, which we, which we do every, every year now. We don't like to be around at the time of Molly's hospitalization and death. It's just too painful. So we were in, in Orlando at Disney World, Walt Disney World. Kenny was unbelievably sick, and I had this bald, swollen head with giant scars everywhere. So we stayed at the, at the home that we were renting with another family while everyone else went to the parks. And I was on my computer trying to distract myself. Kenny was you know, getting sick and taking a nap and, you know, just miserable. And we saw that one of Molly and Gracie's dance friends was on life support. So when you've lost a child, one of the only ways you can feel useful is to help somebody else that's lost a child. It's a very specific, unique, horrifying little group of people, we bereaved parents. And so when I saw that another dance friend was on life support, same hospital, she was 20 turning 21, so a bit older than Molly, but still far too young to be that sick. We— Kenny and I immediately jumped into action, and you can do that from a sofa and a computer. And so we organized fundraisers and t-shirt sales and did all these things for this wonderful family. Rachel, the girl that was on life support, danced in Molly's memorial service. She was in the big opening number. So she— that family had a connection to Molly. Um, we came home from our vacation, um, and went up to visit this family, and their daughter had eaten peanuts and gone into anaphylaxis and was unable to be revived. She had coded and, you know, essentially died in the ambulance, and they got her heart beating again. A lot like Molly, the tumor killed her, and they get her heart beating again and hope that she'll wake up, and she didn't. And so once we knew this, we really, really just enveloped this family into ours. And it was a— this is going to sound strange, but it was a really good distraction for us. Because we could focus on them and we could use our experience to be helpful, as opposed to just focusing on what we were still missing. Um, so it's hard to explain without sounding sort of trite, and I don't mean it to sound that way. Uh, when, when Jen's mother Rachel, uh, realized that Rachel wasn't going to wake up, she asked if we donated Molly's organs, and we were not allowed to do that because we did not know at the time that we unplugged Molly that whether or not her tumor was cancerous, and it was not. She— Kenny could have had one of her kidneys. I shared this with Rachel's mother. So Rachel's mother cocks her head and looks at me and asks what Kenny's blood type is, and it's the same as Rachel's. And I put that out. I said, I'm not here to talk to you about Rachel's kidney. I'm here to support you and help you say goodbye to Rachel. Rachel's 21st birthday was May 7th that year, 2019. May 7th is Molly's death date, the day we plugged her. So we're at the cemetery saying goodbye to Molly for the third time. Rachel is in a hospital an hour away celebrating her 21st birthday on life support, her last day, quote unquote, alive. And Jen, her mother, calls us on the phone and asks for Kenny's kidney transplant coordinator at Mass General because they want to give him one of Rachel's kidneys. This always makes me cry. So we're happy, like utterly happy and grateful and thankful, but we're getting it because Rachel's dying. So again, it's just— it just epitomizes my life. The best of times, the worst of times. With every amazing, amazing gift is some horrifying tragedy attached. And so, and so on May 8th, uh, Kenny went to the hospital and I went and got my head checked, and Rachel was removed from life support, and he received her kidney. So again, we're still in the throes of this horrific new reality. Molly's never coming home. Now Rachel will never come home. We've met this beautiful family who we, we are still close friends with now, obviously, and Kenny has her kidney. So a kidney that danced in his daughter's funeral now lives inside of his belly. And this is, this is the best way to think about that kidney because it allows us to love Rachel and be grateful for her, but it keeps Molly alive as well. And, uh, and it just sort of honors the whole process. So again, the whole process for having this baby just had us in places and times. Had I not tried to have the baby and was still taking all that medicine, had we been in Florida, we wouldn't have been home. I wouldn't have been looking, you know, all the things that led us to be where we were at each of those times. And again, I just feel like Molly was up there just making it all happen. I also think Molly and Rachel spend a lot of time together now, making sure that we're okay down here. Sorry for the interruption.

Three brain tumors on her own MRI

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 30:54

This is Ian Westmoreland, the founder of Kintsugi Heroes, and thank you for listening to this story from one of our amazing heroes.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 31:01

Our mission is for these stories to provide hope and inspiration to people experiencing in life challenges and to also educate the broader community on how best to provide support. If you would like to help us continue to produce more hero stories and cover more adversity themes, we would welcome all donations. These can be made via our website kitsukiheroes.com.au. The donate function is at the bottom of the home page. We'd also welcome any feedback. You can email me direct using ian@kintsugiheroes.com.au. Now let's get back to the story. That was the next, the next phase. The summer of 2019 unfolds, and I have several checkups, and I'll have to do all manner of things to make sure I'm neurologically sound. And my neurologist signs off on me making a baby. So Gracie knows nothing of this. My mother knows nothing of this. We, we told nobody about this process. And I go back to my original reason for not telling Kenny in the beginning. We just wanted to go through it as far as it would take us. And if the outcome was negative or traumatic, it was our journey. We didn't pull Gracie into another trauma. We didn't involve the public or other people that might have a stake in our wellbeing or the wellbeing of a baby. Um, so we said nothing. And so we had, we went through all the, you know, there's a lot that goes into IVF transfers. There's egg extractions and sperm extractions. And if you use a donor, finding a donor, an alive donor versus a frozen donor, and sperm banks and embryo adoption. The IVF world is a profoundly, astoundingly beautiful place that makes me relook at life and conception and God and not God. All of it. It's just such a learning experience for me. I will never ever take anything for granted when it comes to these kinds of things. And people with their amazing brains think these things up and invent them and create ways to help women become moms. It just blows my mind sometimes. And so our first round of IVF didn't work. We went through everything, the shots in the bum, the patches, the pills, all the timing of the hormones, all of it. And I knew, I knew right away it didn't work. I just felt, I didn't feel any different. Every pregnancy I've had, all 4 of them, and when I get to Jack's, I'll share that, I've known, I just know almost right away. So I wasn't all that upset, quite honestly. I just felt like perhaps it wasn't about the baby after all. We have brain tumors discovered. Kenny has a kidney. We have this amazing family connection now. Gracie has a quote unquote sister in her relationship with Rachel's younger sister, Allison. They are to this day, unbelievable, believably connected young ladies. So I thought, okay, well, it wasn't about the baby then. The nurse, her name was Tammy, um, when I said to her, so should I stop taking all the estrogen and everything now? And she's like, well, just keep taking it because I had, you know, you go for a follow-up. So I go down for my follow-up appointment to Dr. Cardone, and we walk in and sit down, and he says, I was sure this would work. This was not a problem with your body, it was an embryo problem. I'm utterly amazed that you're not pregnant. So I sort of look at him and ask, well, can we try again then? And he grins at me and says, are you twisting my arm? And I said, only if you need me to. And he pulls out a list of different things to try and new ways to approach another round of IVF. So we make some changes. The most significant change is we got a fresh batch of Kenny's post-kidney transplant sperm, right? Stronger swimmers, we think. So that was one of his thoughts. And so that was one thing that, you know, and Kenny put up a little bit of a fight. You know, he's had a vasectomy, so it's not, it's not an easy sperm extraction. They have to go in with a needle. And I'm like, well, then you've done your part. You know, I'm sorry if that's too personal, but it's a fun part of the story. We are all ready to have an IVF transfer sort of the end of March, end of February, beginning of March in 2020. And what happens then? COVID hits. And so everything is just put on hold, which for us was fine. We had the, we had, we had the eggs, we had the sperm, I'm on the medicine, it doesn't have to happen at any specific time. So I was just sort of put into a holding pattern for March, April, and May. And, you know, we just all sort of waited with bated breath along with the rest of the world to see what COVID would bring. Once June arrived, certain aspects of the medical community could open back up. And so the IVF clinic that I was, you know, going to called and said, you're what you're like top on our list here. Dr. Cardone was retiring at the end of July. And I think he wanted He wanted to be connected to it, you know, I was his person. So, so I went right, you know, jumped right back into the heavy duty, you know, injections in the tushy and patches on all of it, all that. Gracie in the meantime is, is in college, community college, really having a miserable time with all the COVID restrictions, but doing well. And again, we still kept her out of this. We hadn't brought her into any of this. She was really starting to come into her own. And I just felt like as much as she might be angry at me down the road, I wanted her to have as much just sort of happy free time as possible. So I have the embryo transfer, which is what they call putting the embryo into the uterus. Dr. Cardone's last one. July 29th, I turned 57. August 5th, I found out, find out I'm pregnant. So it was about the baby. At least I was hoping at that time. Uh, I had a fantastic pregnancy for 13 weeks. We said nothing. I am a— I have a big mouth. I love to talk, but I learned in this process to keep my mouth shut. Uh, we had suffered too much, and any— anything can happen with any pregnancy. Just because I'm old doesn't mean, um, it's going to be far worse for me. Young women, you know. So I said nothing for 13 weeks, and for the first 13 weeks, I was still under the care of Dr. Cardoni. At 13 weeks, all the hormonal assistance stops. And it becomes a regular pregnancy like anyone else's. This is where I thought if it were going to fail, it would. So I was in a sort of a panic-stricken phone call. Everything was fine, but I called my local OB-GYN for some reassurance. Gracie overheard me on the phone. This is how she finds out I'm pregnant. That, that was a hard time for her. And I will never ever in my life tell her how to feel about anything. She was furious. And so I just needed to give her permission. To rage and be angry. We function well as a family, and so we can sort of push the pause button when it's dinner time. We can sit and have an enjoyable dinner and be authentic with one another, and then when dinner's over, she can go back up and slam her door and be angry at me. And so we had several weeks of this. I encouraged her to share it with her therapist and find, find a confidant, someone to share it with that she could talk to about it. My health continued to be excellent. I work out at a CrossFit gym, and I worked out 6 days a week like I always did. That was a place that was hard to conceal the pregnancy because, you know, you're in a tank top and spandex. But I'm, you know, 57 at the time, menopause belly, right? Oh, I gained weight in my tummy. The number of times I said that as my tummy began to get bigger, and all of my older friends would, yes, I know, oh my God, me too, isn't it terrible? You know, we'd commiserate about our menopause bellies. Um, my, my local doctor told me I needed to be quiet now for another 9 weeks, go Go to 22 weeks. So 2 reasons he said that. One, I had a baby that didn't live inside of my belly 21 years prior. These things happen. And if I told the public that I was pregnant before we were sure that anything related to my age or the baby was fine and something went wrong, that I opened myself up and my family up for judgment, more trauma, all of that. So I just kept quiet. A small group of people knew my CrossFit coaches, and all of that. So finally, at 22 weeks, I had the final test that I needed to have, which was a fetal echocardiogram. I had to go to the same hospital that I had gone to with baby Gordy in 1999, when we looked at his tender little broken heart. So it was a pretty stressful moment for me. I filled the, I filled the technician in on all the details about Molly, all the details about Rachel, and of course, baby Gordy. So this, this young woman comes in— well, she wasn't super young— this cardiologist comes in, And she sits down and she looks very serious. So I'm immediately in a panic. And she says to me, tell me about your baby that you gave up, you know, that you lost years ago. What did you do with him? And I said, oh, I donated him to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia because they have a good neonatal heart unit, cardiac unit there. And he had this really bizarre heart disorder. And she goes, tell me what it was. And so I explained it all to her and she looks at me and she gets a bit trembly, and she said, I performed the autopsy on that baby. So I'm sitting, I'm sitting in a lab on my back, you know, looking at my— the inside of my belly on a screen with a woman that held my child's body and took out his teeny tiny heart. So they were able to reproduce that heart in a 3D printer and, and learn how to make repairs and corrections in it that have now saved I think 11 babies. So I lost my baby, but by kissing him goodbye— and it makes me cry— and giving him away, there are mommies now that, that won't have to go through what I went through with that baby. And she got to see Jack inside my belly. So that was one of those moments that I don't think Kenny and I could talk for about 5 or 6 hours. If I wasn't pregnant, I would have gone home and had a drink, you know, like, it was just like, like What is happening here? You know, and this is when I think, you know, Rachel and Molly up there are just getting a big kick out of all this. But that was an incredible connection. It was also one of the, the signs to me that Jack was going to be fine. There was too much, too many connections, too many unbelievable things that were far too big to be coincidences, and too many things to happen to one person. I have a book, a book publisher that says I wouldn't make a believable fictional character. Because one person couldn't go through all of this. And on this day, I felt that way. So the remainder of my pregnancy was, you know, unremarkable in terms of my health. I was super healthy. I was fine. The best part of it was telling people that I was pregnant because the responses were, you know, mostly like stone-faced. Like they would look at me and say nothing and just stare at me. What? So that was fun. I was in the gym one day and I said, oh, my menopause belly is getting huge. And my friend Pam says, yeah, you do look like you're getting some weight. I'm like, that's 'cause my menopause belly has a heartbeat. And she just looks at me not understanding what it is I'm saying. And so everyone in the gym that day just went nuts. They couldn't believe it, touching my belly and all this. And then of course, you know, those last— that last trimester, you really do explode tummy-wise. So there would have been no keeping this a secret anymore. Uh, Jack was due April 13th, and right around St. Patrick's Day here, March 17th, um, I started to puff up, my blood pressure went up, I started to get all these bizarre symptoms, and I was diagnosed with preeclampsia, which again is not a good thing to have, but not necessarily because I was old. This was the one time in this whole journey that I started to wish I had more control. I wanted Dr. Chaudhary to deliver the baby. He was going on vacation, a vacation he planned early so he'd be here when I gave birth to Jack, but I had no control over it. This wasn't my decision to make. And so into the hospital I went to have Jack-Jack. I chose the name Jack because one of my bereaved moms that I have— I've just now met in person. Um, her son Jack died right around the time Molly died, and we— she and I had amazing connections to each other's children. I messaged her once to say, just so you know, I have your picture, Jack's picture, on my fridge. And she emailed me back instantaneously with a picture of Molly on her fridge. And she lives on the other side of the United States, so we became close. So when I found out Jack was a boy, I chose to name him after her son. So Jack was the one-push wonder. They gave magnesium for my blood pressure. They gave me Pitocin to induce labor. I went to bed, fell asleep on a Friday night. I woke up Saturday, didn't think I was in labor. I didn't— I wasn't having a hard time at all. They broke my water. Kenny arrived, and 2 hours of contractions and 1 big push, and out came teeny tiny perfect little jingle jangle Jack Jack. Uh, 5 pounds, 13 ounces, 18 inches of utter perfection. You know, other than the preeclampsia and other than him being a bit early, he wasn't considered premature, but definitely early. He had a little trouble navigating nursing. I was actually able to produce breast milk. He still breastfeeds a little more than I want sometimes, but I'm just going to soak it up. And so the first day of spring, March 20th, the vernal equinox, my sweet baby boy came into the world. So if I had to sort of look at all of this, him here has been life-changing. Gracie and he are closer than— if he has to choose, he chooses his big sister. They have a connection that's remarkable. And I love it. It's helpful to me sometimes. And he just loves and idolizes her. I think sometimes too, it's a way Molly can connect with Gracie. I think she gets right in there. Children are so open to that. He's brought joy back into our lives. We've had incredible support, a lot of TV coverage and news media coverage. We shot a TV commercial in Utah for the hospital that fixed my brain tumors. This amazing trip to the most beautiful place. And the gist of it was rising from the depths of despair and knowing that even if your life is as bad as you think it could be, if you can, if you can hold yourself together enough to wait it out and see what happens, that you'll be shown some sort of path. Some little piece of light will come in through the shards of brokenness and show you that It'll be okay. I don't like this version of okay sometimes. I want Molly back. I ask her to come back every day still. But Jack and the whole process of having him, I really do think saved me in a much bigger way than a brain tumor. I think, I think he just saved me from, from not really being able to move along from Molly. Does he replace Molly? Not, not, not even close. Second children don't replace the first children. They just add to the mix. And Jack, Jack just evens up, evens the score. I've had a baby boy and then 2 baby girls and a baby boy, so I've got 2 of each. It's all even and neat. And here I am. So am I perfect? Oh heck no. Am I a good mother? I do the best I can. Do I yell and scream at Jack sometimes? Darn right I do. Am I, am I so sad that I can't function? Yes, I have those days. Do I sometimes drink too much? Indeed I do. Not like before. I, I go weeks and weeks without time. I, I'm so much healthier physically, I don't want to ever disrupt that. But, you know, I had the worst of the worst. Molly woke up April 30th alive, and May 1st she was dead. And from then on, it's been, it's been this crazy journey. So, you know, that's my story. Is it a typical story? No. Can all 57-year-old women have babies? No. Do all 13-year-old girls die of brain tumors? No. But all of this is a part of my story, and it involves enough people and things and circumstances that I think sharing it, I think, can be helpful to a lot of people. At least that's what I hope.

One push and a March baby

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 46:20

Oh, that's overwhelming, Barb. Yes, it is, you know. And you, and you share that story so brilliantly well. Like, you hold yourself together given the years of the trauma and the up and the down and the, you know, the pain. Like, me hearing that for 45 minutes It's like, you know, trying to go through, I don't know, a decade of whatever it is of this, right? The emotional journey. It's like, whoo, just been on this rocket. And yet it's a journey of just hope and miracles. You know, when you were describing the up and the down nature, the worst of it, the best of it. I, I see this all the time, you know. Life is two sides of a coin. You know, we can't have the dark without the light. We can't—

Aveline Clark (Host) · 47:12

correct—

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 47:13

understand how far we can rise unless we've actually gone really low. It feels like your journey is a really perfect demonstration or illustration of life.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 47:25

Yes, absolutely. The opening line of a Charles Dickens book— I can never remember the name of the book, but it's— the first line is, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." And, and if I had to have a t-shirt with a saying on it that was my life, I think that would be it, you know. And, and you've only heard 2016 to now, you know.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 47:49

And yet you're radiating joy. You've got a beautiful boy who's, what, coming up to 3 years of age, is he?

Aveline Clark (Host) · 47:56

No, no, he just turned 2. He turned to March 20th. Yep.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 47:59

Oh, of course. Beautiful. And lucky you.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 48:03

Yeah, exactly. Oh, lucky me. Yeah, in a million different ways, lucky me. I, you know, I've had, I've had a difficult life, um, but I have— I find levity and humor to be very, very settling and grounding for me. Another book quote that I love, there's a book by Ken Kesey called One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and the main— one of the main characters is this big Native American guy named Chief. It takes place in a hospital. And he says, if you lose your laughter, you lose your footing. And that's another one. If in, you know, I remember the week that Molly was on life support, I laughed so much that week, because I was just getting this wonderful experience with everyone that knew her. And I had some friends who couldn't understand how I could laugh. And I felt like, how I cannot— how can I not laugh? Like, if I don't laugh, I'm gonna— I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna make it.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 48:49

Yeah, you've actually— it sounds like you've learned a lot about yourself and found ways to balance yourself and ground yourself. You've got a very strong connection with yourself through this whole process. And I love the way that you listened and you opened to the journey.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 49:04

Right? Right.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 49:05

This is life. And not just the journey, the moments of the connectedness, the synchronicities, the messages, the signs, and just allowing the flow and being open.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 49:17

And I'm not always good at sitting still and listening. I'm a mile a minute all the time. But this has taught me You know, for a while I couldn't move. And in those moments where I was just hobbled by it, I learned to listen. I sometimes say I learned to listen with my eyes and see with my ears. You know, life just becomes so different. You have to look around things sometimes or manage, manage everything in a different way. And so, right, another beauty. You know, I thank Molly all the time. I don't thank her for dying, but I thank her for helping me figure out how to live without her here. That's not always easy. I, I just want her back.

Laughter as a survival tactic

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 49:56

Of course. Of course you do. Yeah, that won't change. But what will change is what you see tomorrow, what you experience tomorrow, you know, through her passing. The joy, the gifts, the, the magic, the, the tapestry that's been woven since has just been really beautiful.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 50:14

That's— and that's the other thing, you know, starting the pod, my podcast, for me, the one I do has been a therapeutic exercise for me in self-learning and healing and self-forgiveness. Oh, self-forgiveness is difficult when you lose a child. It's my job to keep her alive. I'm her mother. And so no matter what people tell me, I can always think of 50,000 things I could have done differently that would keep her alive, whether or not that's true. But I have met the most amazing people in this journey, and I will thank Molly tonight when we have our little pre-bed conversation for you and for Ian and for this whole, whole foundation organization that you have, because I get to be connected to something amazing. And the stories of the other people— I learned so much from listening to people that I would never have met if it weren't for all of this. And I have to focus on things that way. I have to look at it that way. That's another sort of survival tactic now, a healthier one, right?

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 51:09

Yeah, it's the right one. It's the best one. I totally agree. But, you know, I heard something on the weekend that really was playing on my mind a little bit, and I'm just reminded of it now. And that is that all suffering starts and ends when we are rejecting what's real, what's in the present moment. When we push away or we deny what we have or we don't like it, we expect it to be something else. That's where suffering comes from.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 51:35

Wow. That is so accurate.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 51:38

And that's a choice. We can choose to accept what is in front of us.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 51:42

Yes.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 51:42

Or we can reject it, and that's when we suffer. Yes.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 51:46

Yes.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 51:47

Wow.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 51:49

That's such an accurate illustration of what losing a child is like. Like, you know, you have to reject it until you can wrap your head around it. And once you can, once you get to the point where you can just say, okay, she's never coming back, and that is the beginning, that is the turning point. Yeah. And that, and that varies so much from mom to mom and dad to dad and all that. But you're right. That's a really, really articulate way of looking at it. I'm gonna write that down later.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 52:14

Thank you. You're welcome. Thank you. You've, you've shared just such an incredible story. And I, I heard you mention a book publisher. Are you writing a book?

Aveline Clark (Host) · 52:24

Yes. Self-Knowledge. I knew that I would never be organized enough to write it myself. So I have a very good friend who is a published author. She's from England. She's actually living in England for a year now, and she'll be back here in a few months. I hired her, you know, they lost their jobs in COVID and didn't think they could stay in the US. And I'm like, wait, I'm going to hire you to write a book. And so she wrote, she ghostwrote my memoir around losing Molly and all the different pieces. So much that I didn't share here because it's more Molly specific, but she did this beautiful job. She's an incredibly talented author. So we're in the final edits now. And choosing a title and, and a cover and all of the details that will go into the final product. So, right, another amazing learning experience. Yeah, so that's exciting.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 53:09

Wonderful. I love, I love it. You know, the journey continues with Molly even though she's not here. It's, it's, it's her imprint in the fabric of, of life continues. Exactly. As we, as we wrap this up, and I, I don't want to, I just want to keep You know, talking to you, I just feel this, like, you know, warmth. I feel like reaching out, giving you a hug and thanking you. And yeah, I always ask this question, and I know it might sound weird for me to ask this, but if there's people listening to this story, if there's any element of your story that they can relate to, because you've actually talked about a lot of challenges through this, is there something you'd like to share with them that might give them something?

A thousand tiny steps and finding someone to listen

Aveline Clark (Host) · 53:50

I think in all of these things, dealing with Molly's death, wanting to have Jack, having Jack, finding brain tumors, experiencing organ transplants. The biggest piece of all of this for me has been two things: the willingness to take a first step. So my podcast is called A Thousand Tiny Steps, and it's because I believe that everything that happens to us is not a one-step incident. Thousands of steps lead us to everything. That you and I started thousands of steps ago here. So the willingness to take the first step, even though it might not take you anywhere except a couple of inches across the carpet in your living room, right? Take the first step. The second and most important piece externally would be finding people to listen to you. Molly's biggest problem was she was only looked at as a skinny little 13-year-old girl. Had somebody looked at her and said, "If she weren't a girl, what might I think?" Her voice wasn't heard. And in all of the aspects of my journey, I've often felt that my voice hasn't heard. There is not only one doctor or one minister or one therapist or one nurse or one counselor in the world. There are hundreds. And if your voice isn't being heard, then find somebody who's willing to listen to you and willing to listen with their eyes and see with their ears, if that makes sense. Sometimes it's not about what I look like or how old I am or what gender I am or any of those things. And so when people say to me, you know, how can I have what you have? Or how can I do it? I don't know. But I do know that everyone has a voice that deserves to be heard, and everybody can take one small step. Everybody can. I guess that's what I'd say. I mean, you know, my experience is I'm very lucky. I have a body that did what I wanted it to do. Not everybody has that. I have a family that's supportive. Not everybody has that. But we all have a way to get to those things and get to what we want. And so that would be it. It just starts with a small step and finding somebody to listen to you.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 55:43

It's beautiful. It's really lovely. Thank you.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 55:46

Thank you.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 55:47

So appreciate your energy and your heart and your time, Barb, and, and everything that you're doing and giving to other people as a result of the millions of steps that you've taken on your journey.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 55:58

Right. Well, it's the only time I feel okay about it. If it doesn't mean anything, then why did it happen? I guess I reap the benefits all the time. You know, I'll go to sleep happy tonight because this was a wonderful conversation. Thank you for letting me talk about her.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 56:12

You're so welcome. I think you should do it more then, if that's what makes you happy. Just keep doing it, keep sharing. It's a beautiful story and, and it needs to be heard by many people. Thank you so much for your courage. Um, it's been a pleasure talking with you today.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 56:25

Well, it's been a pleasure here too. Thank you for inviting us. Thanks.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 56:35

We hope you've enjoyed episode of Kintsugi Heroes. Please like and share the show to your friends so we can get this out to even more people. If you have a story you'd like to share with us, please reach out using the contact details below. Join us next week for our next hero's story. Until then, keep being you, and remember that we are all heroes in our own unique way. Only when it's broken. Only when it's broken. When it hits you in the middle of the night and the truth burns so bright.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 57:19

Only when it's broken.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 57:23

Only when it's broken. Take pride in those cries, it's only for tonight. And then you rise.

Aveline Clark (Host) · 57:36

Only when you're broken.

Barb Higgins (Guest) · 57:40

Only when you're broken. Only when you're broken.

The Pain of Losing a Child and the Slow Climb Back with Barb Higgins

Overview

Chapters

A typical American life

The girl who gave away her own things

The week that blew everything up

1,300 people and a musical review

Two years on the living room floor

The dreams that wouldn't stop

Three brain tumors on her own MRI

The kidney that dances

The fetal echocardiogram and the autopsy

One push and a March baby

Laughter as a survival tactic

A thousand tiny steps and finding someone to listen

In Barb Higgins's words

Barb Higgins, today

Common questions

Is this a true story?

What organisation produced this?

What did Barb Higgins learn from this experience?

What would Barb Higgins want listeners to know?

What helped Barb Higgins most along the way?

What would Barb Higgins tell someone going through something similar?

Transcript

A typical American life

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Stop Asking Why. Start Asking What Now.

From Grief to Purpose and Creating Change with Craig Goozee OAM

Coping with Cancer Diagnosis & Treatment with Ian Westmoreland & Kathleen Langmore

What topics does this episode cover?

The girl who gave away her own things

Three brain tumors on her own MRI

One push and a March baby

Laughter as a survival tactic

A thousand tiny steps and finding someone to listen