10/07/2026
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I feel like I owe a little explanation about where I’ve been and where Sol Embrace stands.
Sol Embrace is still very much a passion project and something incredibly close to my heart. I’m still trying to figure out how to make it all work while navigating a life that looks nothing like what we imagined.
Since losing our daughter in January, we’ve experienced five additional early pregnancy losses. In less than two years, we’ve lost seven babies.
Aside from our Lainey girl, who passed away at six weeks old, all of our losses have happened too early for us to even have testing performed. We went from being pregnant with a baby to seemingly being unable to carry a pregnancy. We’re seeing specialists, and just yesterday I underwent a procedure that we hoped would give us some answers as to why this keeps happening.
Losses like these are often silent, but they are no less brutal. The grief is real. The heartbreak is real. The hopes, dreams, and plans we made for each of those babies were real, too.And that’s exactly why awareness and support matter so much. It’s also why Sol Embrace has had to take a seat on the back burner. I’ve had to change jobs, and my husband and I are trying to navigate a world we never imagined we’d find ourselves in.
Month after month, I’ve celebrated as others welcome their babies into the world, all while quietly carrying the possibility that it may never be something we get to experience again. It’s a complicated place to exist, holding genuine joy for others alongside so much grief and uncertainty of your own. Between doctor’s appointments, therapy, trying to find answers, and desperately trying to rediscover my spark and sense of self in the middle of it all, life has felt a little all-consuming.
But I still believe so deeply in what Sol Embrace was created to be. A place where grief and joy can coexist. Where our babies are remembered, their names can be spoken, and no one has to navigate loss alone.
And to everyone else who is simply trying to show up for life in the middle of the hurt and the mess, I hope you know this:
You are seen. You are valuable. And you are worthy of love and support exactly where you are.
Your loss is real, no matter how early it happened. Your grief doesn’t need to be justified by a timeline, a heartbeat, a birth, or how long you got to hold your baby.
I hope so much joy and peace find you right where you are, even in the messy middle. I hope you find little pieces of yourself again. And I hope you know that you don’t have to have it all figured out to keep moving forward.
I love you, friends. 🤍
From loss to light, together.