The thing about growing and birthing children, is that it changes you on a fundamental level. Your heart changes to accommodate a love so big, that it will never fade. Harsh reality: Sometimes babies die. But that love still lives on. Not just for a few months. Not just for the first year. FOREVER. The change already took place. The heart grew to love. And then it was shattered into a million pieces. When a baby dies, a mother is left gasping for air, as she tries to pick up the shards of her broken heart and rearrange them into a thing that functions again. It is painful, grueling, unpleasant ..read more

I sat at a large table in a conference room. I knew I was there for bad news. I knew it as I followed the nurse down the hall. Before they even began, they asked about the death of my first son. My third-born was across the hospital, hooked up to countless machines, keeping him alive. They were about to show me scans of his brain. I was about to see a gray mass of inactivity…. But before they told me he was dying…. Before sharing that there was nothing else they could do…. They asked about my firstborn. They asked how he died. They asked if there was any genetic reason this could be happening ..read more

For a while there, I was someone who fellow loss moms could look to and say, “Okay. She made it. And so can I.” For just a little while, I was able to be a comfort and a symbol of hope for the good that can come after a devastating loss. I made it through pregnancy after loss. My sons made it through pregnancy after loss…. But then one of those sons died. I am no longer a success story, but a horror story. I’m no longer living the dream but rather, living every loss mom’s nightmare. Right now, in most cases, I don’t feel fit to talk to other loss moms about pregnancy after loss. I feel like I ..read more

I know this is probably going to sound absolutely nuts, but I really miss the days when I only had one dead baby. It sounds morbid, but please know I don’t say it lightly. Of course I would rather have all three of my boys here. But after some time had passed from Lincoln’s death, I was able to find some peace in my broken life. It wasn’t after Jonah was born that this peace came. It was after Liam. Jonah had a sibling. My arms were full, and I had spent years learning how to continue mothering the son I lost, as well as the ones I had with me. Liam brought a calm into my life with him. And lo ..read more

Dear Mommy Friend, Month after month, I see your milestone updates. I see your photos and development charts: lists of all of the exciting new things that your baby is doing. I’m watching your baby grow, and wishing mine was still here to do the same things. You’ve probably noticed that some months, I put a heart on those posts. Some months, I might even leave a comment. Other months, posts get scrolled passed as quickly as possible, so I don’t have to face my own emptiness. We were pregnant together. We were nervous, but we cheered each other on. We shared ultrasound photos around the same t ..read more

I remember how it felt so clearly. I was sitting in an office at a funeral home. I had just signed a piece of paper to approve my firstborn son’s cremation. A page that allowed my son’s body to be turned to ash in an instant. It was a terrible feeling. I was making decisions that I never imagined being faced with. I signed the paper with quiet tears rolling down my cheeks. But then I was offered another painful choice. The sweet young employee asked if I’d like to hold him one more time. I gasped for air as I shook my head no, and the quiet tears turned to sobs. Lincoln’s autopsy had already b ..read more

I just lost it over a bottle of hand sanitizer. I was cleaning the bathroom and moved the bottle aside so I could scrub the sink. I bought the sanitizer back in December. Because I would be delivering a brand new baby during flu season. I was so careful to make sure he stayed healthy. Everyone who touched him washed their hands first. I kept his carrier covered when we were in public. I was constantly nagging his big brother to keep his hands off his face. I was so careful. I tried so hard to protect him. When Liam tested positive for RSV, a knot formed in my throat. But the PA at the hospital ..read more

When I went to the funeral home after Lincoln died, the employee there told me that they offered a discount on their chapel for memorial services for babies. I instantly said no. I was so overwhelmed by all of the things I needed to do. I was in so much shock that I was even in this situation. I said no. I never had a service for Lincoln and I regretted it. He deserved a service. He deserved to be celebrated. And people deserved the chance to gather in grief with us. But I said no. When the time came to plan a service for Liam, I knew it was absolutely necessary. My sweet boy, who spent 6 week ..read more

My living son is two years old. It’s a little difficult to know how much he understands about death. Though he’s never met him, he’s talked to Lincoln’s picture since he was a tiny baby. Losing Liam was a bit different, but I’m not sure exactly what he’s thinking. I’m always trying to figure out how he’s processing things so I can support him. Jonah came to the hospital when we found out that Liam would not be able to recover from complications caused by RSV. He was very nervous and kept his distance for a while. Liam didn’t look like himself at that point. He was very swollen and purple from ..read more

I ordered an urn today. I never imagined I would be doing this again. Grieving. Again. Picking out an urn. Again. Signing orders for a death certificate. Again. Emptying the clothes from the changing table. Again. Sobbing these deep, uncontrollable sobs. Again. Feeling empty inside. Again Dealing with the empty arm ache. Again. Adjusting to a life without my baby who should still be here. Again. Mothering a child I didn’t get to keep. Again. I shouldn’t be here again. But here I am. And I will do everything I can to insure that both of my babies are remembered. Always. Liam Marshall Snyder 01 ..read more