Every month I hear from women who wish they had a partner. Who had a partner who disappointed them. Who left a partner who would have been a poor choice as a father.

When I look at the way our family flowers have changed from year to year, when friendships slow because of a new school year with different classmates, or there is a rift that causes a shift of loyalties, it is easy for me to recognize that my kids will have so many new flower petals to replace the ones that fall in time. And that even when someone is lost to us -- such as great-grandma three years ago -- that doesn't mean they aren't still part of our roots that remain.

It's harder for us as adults to recognize that same shifting action as a positive, not a negative. Sometimes it seems that a loss will never be replaced by something new. Or it feels like a break-up with a partner or friend is a complete tearing away of roots that once sustained us.

I'll be doing my own flower when my birthday rolls around in a few months. And unfortunately, I've lost a few too many valuable relationships this past year. Family members who no longer stay in touch. A decades-long friendship that seems to have finally taken its last breath. Relationships around my kids lost because of situations that got too complicated.

I do see, however, some amazing new shoots.

The First Universalist church community I joined for my kids a few years ago has become a primary support vehicle for me. I actually teared up in service the other day because I was so moved by the music we made together, singing "We Will" with folk singer Ann Reed, the song she created for our congregation's 150th anniversary.

I invited a new role model friend to join us at the Science Museum for my son's birthday outing. We were amused, during an attempted discussion of important scientific principles, that my quiet, analytical son found his words instead to name the American Girl doll someone had left behind in the light wave exhibit. "This is why he needs more men in his life," I joked.

The next day, six of his best buddies -- one of them a great addition thanks to his new classroom connections this year -- roared giant remote control cars around the living room while many of his Roots attempted adult conversation off to the side. One of them, a Choice Mom, stayed most of the evening and we finally caught up in real conversation for the first time in months.

I also had drinks last week with an elementary school friend, also our first good catch-up in about a year, at a nice neighborhood bar tended by a new friend.

All in all, although I've experienced significant losses lately, I also see there are wonderful gifts that surround us every day.

In a way, this was the focus of discussion of our church sermons in January: the concept of finding what "saves" you when life creates a new scar. In our faith, the message is that "community" and "relationship with others" is what sustains us. Our minister invited people to write on shards of CD about what has been broken in their life. By the end of the month, a congregant had created a beautiful glimmering sculpture, representing our chalice symbol, that now hangs in our sanctuary (image above, taken by a Root that was at my son's party).

My hope, of course, is that the Choice Mom community you find here sustains you when you need it. I hear regularly from women for whom this has been true, which is why I keep creating tools to help us make it so.

We experience tremendous losses and disappointments, as we'll hear from the women profiled in February ("partner" month). But we can also celebrate together the wonderful joys we find that sustain us and make us feel more whole.

Share your stories here. Offer your voice in connection. Use the Comments field on any Profiles that touch you this month (and any month!), or send me your own stories of loss and gain to share with our worldwide community.

-- Mikki