The questions can feel relentless at times. If you felt like your mind was busy or overworked before loss, you may feel that even more deeply now. Personally, my thoughts often spiral into questions like: What if? Should I have…? Could I have…? Since losing Mason, there have been moments when my mind has felt like an unsafe place. It returns again and again to questions that don’t have clear answers. It lingers on possibilities—the ones that might have changed everything. The

Holding Grief Through Holy Week When sorrow, silence, and waiting feel familiar Holy Week can feel different when you are grieving. The story is the same. The Scriptures are the same. But your heart is not. Because when you have experienced pregnancy or infant loss, you don’t just hear this story - you recognize it. When the Story Feels Personal Holy Week does not rush to joy. It slows down. It lingers in sorrow. It makes space for suffering. From the garden…to the cross…to t

A Gentle Reminder That We Are All Journeying Toward Eternity Hope After Baby Loss There are moments in grief when everything feels final. Final diagnosis. Final breath. Final goodbye. And in the wake of pregnancy or baby loss, that sense of finality can feel especially sharp—because it came so quickly, so unexpectedly, and without the time you thought you would have. It can feel like something has been cut short. Like a story ended before it really began. But Scripture quietl

When we lost Mason, there were big questions lingering in my heart.  Where was God in that triage room? Where was He during labor and delivery? Was He with me? Did He care?  Because if I’m honest, it was hard to see Him in those moments. Hard to feel that He was there with us, holding us and giving us strength.  He felt distant. Which left us feeling terrified, heartbroken, and anxious.  I didn’t ask “Where is God?” in an angry way, or even in a questioning-His-existence kind