10/15/2025
The saying “you don’t know until you know” rings especially true for this day. Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day is something I never even knew existed—not because it wasn’t recognized before, or because it didn’t matter, but because it simply wasn’t talked about the way it is now.
May 7, 2017.
A day etched into my soul for the rest of my life.
Since that day, I’ve been creating new versions of myself—constantly changing with each passing moment. Not because I want to, but because losing a child changes you in ways you could never imagine. Learning to carry that weight is something that keeps evolving, just as grief does.
I can recall such vivid details of that day.
The moment I knew she was here—but there was no cry. I laid there in the operating room full of people, but I have never felt so alone.
The moment the doctor told me she was successfully intubated and being taken away, before I even had the chance to touch her skin. I remember lying there, wondering if she knew how much I loved her—begging and praying that she would survive.
The moment we were told there was nothing more that could be done, and being asked if we wanted to hold her for as long as we had.
The moment we had her baptized, surrounded by the people who loved her—and us—the most. Then being able to give her a bath.
The moments watching our family hold her, love her, and say goodbye.
The moment we were told she was gone.
The moment they told me it was time, and I looked at Ryan and said, “I can’t. I can’t give her away. They’re just going to have to take her.”
The moment we left the hospital with nothing but a soul-crushing emptiness in my heart.
That pain has evolved.
And though it will always be a part of me, I am proud that we have created something that brings light into the darkness. For so many families, for so many years, this topic has remained unspoken. I’m so grateful for those who are rising from the darkness, bringing hope and light to a pain that so many silently carry.