What loss has taught us about compassion, community, and carrying one another One of the most unexpected things we’ve discovered after losing Mason is this: Some of the gentlest, most compassionate people we have ever met are women who have suffered deeply. Not because grief itself is beautiful. It isn’t. No mother would choose this road. No family would willingly walk through the loss of a baby. And yet, there is something that suffering often produces in people who allow th

And how God meets us in each one. After losing a baby, grief can feel overwhelming, confusing, and deeply isolating. One moment you may feel numb. The next, angry. The next, exhausted. And sometimes all of those emotions can exist at the same time. Many people have heard of the “5 stages of grief,” first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. While grief does not move in neat, predictable steps, these stages can still give language to some of what we experience after loss. Mos

Holding grief alongside the sovereignty of God With stillbirth, there are so many moments that feel like: They should be here. The monthly milestones. The due date. The birthdays. The holidays. The family plans made before everything changed. Moments that quietly remind you of what was supposed to be. And those moments can be incredibly heavy. When Grief Meets Truth In the middle of those thoughts, I find myself returning—again and again—to two truths from Scripture: God is s

After loss, one of the hardest parts is the feeling of separation. Your baby is not in your arms. Not in your daily routines. Not in the places you expected them to be. And yet—your love for them hasn’t gone anywhere. We are learning there are many ways to feel connected to Mason, and ways to nurture him and care for him even though he is not in our arms. We'd like to share some of these ideas with you here. Gentle Ways to Feel Close to Your Baby Here are a few ideas—take wha