A blog from Bloom and Rise
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I want to take a moment to talk about something that’s both deeply personal and often kept in silence.
I’ll never forget sitting in that ultrasound room and hearing the words no parent ever wants to hear: “There is no heartbeat.” Everything blurred after that. Even as a perinatal therapist, nothing could have prepared me for the ache of losing a baby. The grief was heavy, complicated, and lonely.
Pregnancy loss is devastating. And infant loss—it’s a heartbreak that words can never fully capture. To carry a baby, to meet them, to hold them, and then to have to say goodbye far too soon changes you at your very core. It’s not something you “get over.” It’s something you learn to live with. It’s love and grief bound together forever.
Grief after loss doesn’t follow a straight line. Some days you may feel steady, and then a memory, a due date, or seeing another baby the same age as yours brings the pain crashing back. It can feel isolating—like the world has moved forward while you’re standing still. But the truth is, you are not alone, even when it feels that way.
For me, healing looked like giving myself permission to grieve in my own time and in my own way. It meant stepping away from social media when the reminders were too sharp. It meant creating small rituals to honor my baby. It meant leaning on therapy when the weight of it all felt too much to carry alone. And slowly, it meant allowing moments of joy and hope to exist alongside the grief, even if that felt complicated at first.
Pregnancy after loss added another layer—joy mixed with fear, love tangled with anxiety. I know the feeling of holding your breath at every appointment, of second-guessing every sensation in your body, of wondering if you can survive another heartbreak. If you’re there right now, please know your feelings are valid. You can be grateful, you can be hopeful, and you can still feel terrified. None of that makes you less of a parent—it makes you human.
And if you’re walking alongside someone who has lost a baby—whether in pregnancy or after birth—please don’t underestimate the power of simply showing up. Say their baby’s name. Acknowledge their loss. Bring a meal, send a text on an anniversary, sit with them in their grief. You don’t need the perfect words. What matters most is reminding them they are not alone in carrying this.
Pregnancy and infant loss changes you forever. It reshapes the way you see the world, the way you love, the way you parent. And while the world may rush forward, parents never forget. Their babies mattered. They still matter. And they always will.
If this is part of your story, I see you. I honor your baby with you. And I want you to know—you are not alone.