Infertility
Honoring My Past in My Present
My son only physically existed in the past. However, he is still very much a part of our present and our future.
Read MorePink and Blue Awareness Project
October is the month for all loss parents to help bring awareness of our deep grief and the ongoing love that we have for our babies.
Read MoreTrue Friendship
Being seen. Being loved. Mourning with those who mourn. Rejoicing with those who rejoice. Understanding like a true friend.
Read MoreFriends. Forever?
We all have a battle that we are dealing with, and it is okay to need each other.
Read MoreThe Life We All Envisioned: Suffering the Loss of a Grandchild
A grandparents heart breaks for the pain that their child is experiencing and for the loss of their grandbaby.
Read MoreWriting your Baby’s Story
By: Ann-Marie Ferry i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want no world (for…
Read MoreThe Lyrics That Help To Tell My Story
By: Ann-Marie Ferry I love words. They are like food for my soul. A good phrase can capture a thought like a snapshot and then paint it in vivid color. Soon after the loss of my son, when friends and family did not know what to say and when the thoughts in my head were…
Read MoreMy Baby Matters
By: Rachel Helden My baby matters. Or in my case, and perhaps yours too, my babies matter. My story, I havehad three miscarriages, two in the past year and one long ago. Lately I’ve been experiencing anger unlike any I’ve experienced before, with the exception ofwhen I got divorced and my dad passed away, a…
Read MoreSnapshots in the Making
By: Nikki Grayson Let’s be honest, the job of a nurse is not all that glamorous. But in the beginning, Ithought it would be. My thoughts were centered on one thing: helping patients. Not only did itnot turn out to be a dazzling profession, but it was downright hard to become a nurse. Late nightsstudying,…
Read MoreThe Pain of Forward Motion: When Memories Fade
By: Ann-Marie Ferry Sitting cross legged on the warm summer ground I comb my fingers through the damp grass. Every so often I grasp at it as if I am grasping for growing hair. A short time has passed since Kuyper’s burial, yet the patch of earth over his grave has grown in thick, making…
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