Loss is never an easy conversation. But the hardest stories often hold the deepest connection. This Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, we invited mothers in our community to share words for those walking through loss—because real support begins with making space for one another.

Their Stories

“You are not alone.” — Aly

The loss of a first pregnancy can feel like losing a dream you’ve barely begun to imagine. For Aly, grief was isolating, even with her husband by her side. “It truly feels like your world stops turning while everyone else’s continues.” Talking openly with friends, family, and others who had walked this path became a lifeline. “In sharing, I discovered how many people had experienced similar loss. I never would have known if I hadn’t spoken up.” A hydrangea now blooms in their front yard as a living memory of the baby they lost, and this year, Aly celebrates the life growing inside her again—18 weeks along with her rainbow baby. “Although you have experienced loss or are experiencing it now, you will get this miracle again, mama. And you will make it through this.”

“No matter how far along you were, you still lost your baby.” — Victoria

At 17 weeks, Victoria delivered her daughter, Anya Hope, after a traumatic illness nearly took her own life. Her grief was immense, but she found ways to honor Anya’s memory each year. “We celebrate her birthday every year. My husband and I make a custom floral arrangement, light a candle, and remember.” Her faith and the support of her community helped her carry on, but she wishes people understood that grief doesn’t have a timeline. “Having more children doesn’t erase the one you lost. It’s okay to remember them. Honor them. Talk about them. They were here.”

“You don’t move on—you move through it.” — Whitney

Nine years after losing her daughter at 27 weeks, Whitney still honors her every April. “We do random acts of kindness on her birthday. Friends and family still light candles for her—and that means everything.” Her message to other parents navigating loss is both gentle and powerful: “Don’t be afraid to say my baby’s name. The worst thing is thinking the world has forgotten her.”

“Miscarriage is often a silent grief—and it doesn’t need to be.” — Rebecca

Rebecca’s early miscarriage brought isolation and self-doubt, emotions she met with journaling, photos, and candid conversations with those who understood. “There’s such a stigma attached to miscarriage, but it’s not the mother’s fault. Raising awareness can create a safe space for women to share openly.” Her words are simple, clear, and reassuring: “You did nothing wrong. Take your time to mourn and heal.”

“The love you feel for that baby will stay with you.” — Bri

Bri gave birth to her daughter, Indie Floyd, at 38 weeks and 5 days. Though she never breathed outside the womb, her presence left an indelible mark. “I prayed and needed her to wake up, to make a sound, to breathe in life. We continually prayed for a miracle, but it didn’t happen.” In Indie’s honor, Bri created a home library of children’s books, each stamped From the Library of Indie Floyd Hill. “We saved them and have added more every year. We read her name with every story we open.” Eight years later, her love for Indie remains as tangible as ever. “Keep going. You can and will get through this. It’s not easy—it hurts so badly—but the love you feel for that baby will stay with you. Nobody can take that from you.”

“He may not be here in my arms, but my baby boy taught me what love, strength, and faith truly mean.” — Elizabeth

Elizabeth’s son was diagnosed with Trisomy 18 at 12 weeks, knowing his life would be lived entirely within her. She cherished every moment she had with him, taking him camping, swimming, to the beach, reading him books, and capturing a thousand memories in photographs. After he passed, baking banana bread—his favorite in utero—became a ritual of remembrance, and friends and family now join her in this act of love. “When you lose a baby, you’re not just grieving their life—you’re grieving the future you imagined with them. But I have survived—and so can you.”

“No matter how long we knew about our babies, they were still babies.” — Kylie

For Kylie, every life—however brief—is worth celebrating. “We had one we were able to bury, and one we were not. We hope to do a balloon release on each of their due dates, and I plan to tattoo their birth flowers or get a permanent bracelet with their birthstones.” Faith has been her anchor and quiet source of strength. “The most important thing I did was spend time in the presence of the Lord. Worship healed me in so many ways. Though my heart will always hurt missing my babies, my heart will also always praise God for comforting me.” She hopes others understand how isolating silence can feel. “It constantly felt like an elephant in the room. When people asked, it made me feel seen and cared about. Even small gestures—acknowledgment, curiosity—meant the world.”

“There is healing in speaking your grief.” — Raquel

Raquel learned that sharing her experience was a crucial part of processing her loss. “Just talking about it. Talk about the loss. Talk about how hard it is. Allow yourself to feel. Allow yourself to be sad or to feel joy in happy moments. Talk about it all—whether that’s publicly, privately, or with a therapist.” For a long time, she felt isolated because no one knew. Opening up to family, friends, and eventually a professional helped her process the grief and find grounding. “Being open allowed me to finally feel seen and understood. It made the loneliness lift, and it reminded me that I was not walking this path alone.”

RELATED: Five Ways To Support A Parent Through Loss

Making Space for Every Story

Every story shared here is an act of courage. Loss does not erase love. Even in quiet, these babies—and the mothers who carry them—remain, shaping hearts, holding space, and reminding us that community begins with compassion.

To every parent walking through loss: You are not alone, and your story is sacred.