October: Infant & Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month
Every October, we pause to honor National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month — a time to remember the little ones who left this world too soon, and to hold space for the parents and families whose lives were forever changed by their absence.
This topic is deeply personal to me, as I too have walked the heartbreaking path of losing a child. Grief like this never fully leaves — it simply changes shape over time. Through my journey, I’ve learned that while pain softens, love remains.
Whether you’ve experienced this kind of loss yourself, or you love someone who has, I invite you to read the words below with an open heart. If you’ve been here before, may you feel seen, comforted, and less alone. And if you haven’t, may these words help you better understand how to hold space for those who are grieving — sometimes not with answers, but with presence, patience, and love.
Below is a letter I’ve written from my heart to yours…
My Dear Friend,
If you’re reading this because you’ve experienced the loss of your baby — whether recently or many years ago — I want you to know first and foremost: you are not alone.
October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. Every year, this month brings both tenderness and tension in my heart. Tenderness, because I now understand how deeply this type of loss shapes a person. Tension, because even after years of healing, there are still moments — quiet or unexpected — that stir up the ache all over again.
When I look back at the words I wrote years ago, I can still feel that rawness. The shock. The heartbreak. The loneliness that comes from walking through something so few people talk about. And yet today, as I revisit those feelings, I’m reminded how grief evolves. It softens around the edges, making space for hope, gratitude, and even joy to coexist right beside it.
So if you’re here — hurting, searching, remembering — this is what I want you to know today:
💗 You can miss your baby and still love the life you’re living now.
💗 You can cry and still laugh.
💗 You can feel broken one day and whole the next.
💗 You can hold sorrow and hope in the same hands.
There is no “getting over” this — but there is growing with it. There is discovering a strength you didn’t know you had. There is a quiet courage in waking up each day and choosing to keep moving forward, even when the world doesn’t see your pain.
With time, I’ve come to see this journey as a sacred one — one where love never ends, it just transforms. For me, that love now shines as a tiny, steady light that guides me toward compassion, empathy, and connection. I believe my sweet baby continues to be with me — not in the way I once dreamed, but in a way that reminds me I am never truly alone.
And neither are you.
You do not have to rush your healing. You do not have to hide your tears. You do not have to explain your pain. Let yourself feel what you need to feel — today, tomorrow, or years from now. Healing is not linear, and it’s okay if your heart still aches. It’s okay if certain dates or moments bring you back to your knees. It’s okay if you feel joy again — that’s love, too.
If I could wrap my arms around you right now, I would. I’d whisper that you are seen, you are held, and you are loved. You are allowed to grieve in your own way and on your own timeline.
Your story matters.
Your baby matters.
You matter.
And one day, I hope you’ll feel a soft glimmer of peace — not because you’ve forgotten, but because you’ve learned how to carry love and loss side by side.
With love,
Coach Jen
You’re Not Alone 💗
If you feel led, I invite you to share your story in the comments or send me a message. Whether it’s a few words, a memory, or simply your baby’s name, know that this is a safe space to honor your journey. Together, we remind one another that while grief changes us, love never fades — and hope always finds a way to shine through.
Coach Jen
