I like to think being a mom is like joining a special club, where you can instantly connect with another mom over the shared chaos and beauty of motherhood. Kids have RSV? Mine too. Didn’t sleep last night? Same here. Struggling to keep it all together? I feel you, girl. There’s a magic in this club, a camaraderie that pulls us together. I know that now, as a mom of two kids, just 2 and 4. But I also know the depths of loss that some moms carry with them.
Content Warning:
This article discusses pregnancy and infant loss, including personal stories of stillbirth and sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). Please be mindful if these topics may be triggering or difficult to read.
 Johnny Rizk | Canva |
My Pregnancy Loss: Becoming Part of the “Moms of Loss” Club
Five years ago, I became part of a smaller, quieter sub-group of moms — those who’ve lost a pregnancy or a baby. It’s a club no one wants to join, but we are here, and I’m ready to share my story.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I’ve decided to open up about my own experience, along with stories from other women who’ve faced similar heartbreak. We’re also sharing advice — whether you’re a grieving mom or someone trying to support a friend through loss.
There are two reasons I’ve not talked about the loss of my baby very much. First, it’s hard — sometimes impossible. Second, repeating my story makes me feel like I’m passing along this awful thing, like it’s contagious. I know that sounds irrational, but when I was pregnant with my first, someone shared a story of delivering a stillborn baby, and it haunted me. When I lost my own pregnancy, that story replayed in my head, and it felt like I’d somehow "caught" her bad luck. After meeting other moms in this club, I know it’s not entirely abnormal to feel that way.
I lost my first pregnancy at 28 weeks. There was no warning, no clear reason. After a textbook pregnancy, we found out at a routine doctor appointment that our baby no longer had a heartbeat. The hardest part? Not knowing when it happened. I’d been carrying my baby, no longer living, for an unknown amount of time. The guilt was overwhelming. How could I not know? How could I ever trust my body again? Those questions stayed with me for a year until I got pregnant with my second child. Even now, with two toddlers and a full-time job, those thoughts still linger.
My Advice to Moms Grieving a Late-Term Pregnancy Loss
Find your people. One thing that helped me was reading this column from Dear Sugar. It gave me a sense of connection and led me to the book An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, which I recommend to any mom who’s experienced a stillbirth or late-term loss. It helped me feel less alone, and I’ve shared it with other moms in this club.
How You Can Support a Grieving Mom
My advice: Just be there. Loss can be isolating. After the initial flood of cards, visits, and calls, people move on, but the grieving mom is often left alone with her thoughts. Check in, even if you weren’t close before. Ask how she’s doing. Offer to screen shows or movies for triggers. And most importantly, acknowledge her pain without comparing it to anyone else’s.
 Africa Images | Canva |
Hailey's Story: Losing Wyatt to SIDS
I’m Hailey, Wyatt’s mama. If you are reading this article because you've experienced a loss, I’m so, so sorry you are here. Wyatt is my first and only child, born on December 14, 2022, at 6 pounds, 5 ounces of pure joy and love. He was a happy and healthy newborn, hitting all his milestones, making us beam with pride. He was the natural star of our family gatherings and trips, smiling and giggling at everyone.
And then came the worst moment of my life. On May 3, 2023, on his third day of daycare and my first day back at work, Wyatt was found unresponsive after a nap. Despite resuscitation efforts, he could not be saved. Our perfect, healthy, sweet, beautiful boy was gone, at just 4 and a half months old. SIDS took him from us. It's every parent's worst nightmare, and yet, here we are.
I've experienced loss in my life, but nothing that could compare to this. It's a life-altering, gut-wrenching, heartbreaking loss, and I miss my "sweetie love" with every inch of my soul. But, I am not alone, and neither are you. None of us ask to be card-carrying members of the worst club in the world, but here we are. And I'm standing with you on this path.
Hailey's Advice to Moms Grieving Infant Loss
It’s so cliché, but it works: Take one second, one minute, one hour, one day at a time. Thinking ahead can feel overwhelming, so focus on the inch in front of you. I know it often feels insurmountable, and something you might not feel strong enough to move through. But you are, I promise. You are so strong, powerful, and brave.
How You Can Support a Grieving Mom After Infant Loss
Hailey's advice: Speak her child's name with her, but let her lead. Some people were afraid to mention Wyatt, and that was more painful than hearing his name. Say something like, "Whenever you're ready, I’d love to hear stories or memories about [child's name]." It can mean the world.
 Jill Lang | Canva |
Christa's Story: Losing Allessandra to a Cord Accident
I was 36 weeks pregnant with our first baby girl, Allessandra. As a boy mom up until then, I’d been dreaming of tiaras and tulle. But one night, I realized I hadn’t felt her move in hours. After going to the hospital for "peace of mind," I knew when my doctor quietly said a prayer. There was no heartbeat. We still don’t know for sure, but the doctors believe it was a cord accident.
My doctor promised me there was nothing I could have done for a different outcome — but the belief that maybe — just maybe, if I'd noticed sooner, they could have saved her haunts me to this day. Losing Allessandra changed me forever.
Christa’s Advice to Moms Grieving Infant Loss
Be honest with your doctor about your mental health. I hid my feelings for fear of stigma, and it wasn’t until I had a full meltdown that I realized I really needed professional help to process my grief. There’s no "getting over" the loss of a child. There is only learning to live with it. I found a lot of help from the book, Empty Cradle Broken Heart. It’s not a book I ever wanted on my bookshelf, but it made me realize that I was not alone and every emotion I was feeling was normal.
How You Can Help a Grieving Mom of Stillbirth or Infant Loss
Christa's advice: Don’t ask — just do. Just hours after delivering Ali stillborn, I was sent home to care for my toddlers, and I wasn’t capable. The friends and family who stepped in without being asked saved us. I never would have asked for help on my own. Lastly, don’t forget the child. I’m fortunate to have four living children, but what helped me survive was how those around me continue to honor Ali. My mother-in-law fills her stocking at the holidays with a new charm for my bracelet, and we remember her birthday every year. These small gestures mean everything and help keep her memory alive.
Author Jenna Amyot is the publisher of Macaroni KID Burlington-Wilmington-Woburn-Winchester, Mass.
Editor note: Thank you to each of these three moms for honoring your baby's memory by sharing their story with other families who may be suffering a similar loss.
For our readers, if you are in need of help, please know there are resources available to support you through this difficult time. Consider reaching out to organizations like:
- The Compassionate Friends: Provides support to families after the death of a child.
- Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep: Offers remembrance photography to parents suffering the loss of a baby.
- Share Pregnancy & Infant Loss Support: A national organization that supports families through miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss.
