My baby died a month ago very close to his due date, which was yesterday. I made a deal with myself once we found out that he had passed - accept all the help, walk through the toughest parts of grief, feel all the pain, continue walking because you have to. I’m still devastated but it has gotten so much better. I’m only.a month out, but I was terrified that this level of pain would be forever. It does for some people and that’s very valid. But it is not always the case. Sometimes you are able to process it fully and you get very very lucky to be able to move forward. You might get lucky. So t lose hope ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

TW: for impending baby loss

I didn’t really know how to title this appropriately so I’m hoping this post will be read, BUT a family member I am close to was just diagnosed that her baby has genetic issues, and will sadly lose the baby. She has chosen not to “terminate” or “induce” (idk how best to put it) which means she could either lose the baby soon, closer to her original due date, or after birth.

For those that chose to continue their pregnancy after a similar diagnosis, I would really love to hear how you wanted and best received support from family and friends as your pregnancy progressed even with the knowledge of impending loss? Whether you wanted the pregnancy to be ignored? Or for family to still ask you questions and ask about the baby? Or celebrate the little life? I know everyone is different and of course it really is up to her, but it isn’t the time or place to ask this of her and also isn’t appropriate to put another burden on her.

I will respect her wishes once she feels ready to share more about them, but just wanting to hear anyone else’s experiences and just take it all in. I also want her to know that I still want to acknowledge her child, they will be loved even with their short time they would be with us. Any advice, experiences, or input would be appreciated.

Hi. We lost our daughter at 27 weeks pregnant almost two years ago. At that time my (other) first born daughter was 2.5 years old. She was very excited to be a big sister. We explained that her sister was very very sick and eventually "went to the stars".

My extended family was not particularly supportive and for the most part never mentioned my loss. I didn't want this at home so we kept baby's memory alive at home, highlighted her "birthday" last year, etc.

My daughter is 4.5 years old now. She still talks about her baby sister on a weekly if not daily basis. I do my best to answer her questions (what Baby looks like, where she went, what she's doing). We have explained to her that her sister is an angel and that she loves her very much.

I'm not really sure how to support my daughter in her grief.

We've recently received an invitation from the hospital for a memorial service for all babies lost. Should I bring my daughter?

I am worried that I have done my daughter a disservice in talking about her sister and perhaps added to her grief when she might have forgotten? At the same time, this is the story of our family...

I don't even know where to begin. I'm sitting here crying as I try to find the words to write this because I am hurting in ways I didn't even know a human being could hurt. I am 8 weeks postpartum. I just want my baby. I want my little boy back. His name is Mariel Lucio Rae, and he was my entire world long before I ever got to hold him in my arms. My sweet little dancer. My beautiful baby boy. I remember feeling him move inside me. I remember playing music and feeling him dance along, especially to Bad Bunny. I remember laughing at his little movements, talking to him, imagining his personality, and wondering what kind of little boy he would become. He was so full of life. He had a personality. He had favorite sounds. He knew my voice. He knew my heartbeat. He knew me. And I knew him. My pregnancy was incredibly complicated. We learned early on that Mariel had Down syndrome, a cystic hygroma, and hydrops. We were told his chances of survival were incredibly low. But I fought. God, I fought so hard for that little boy. I went through appointment after appointment, ultrasound after ultrasound, and procedure after procedure. I developed severe polyhydramnios and underwent three amnioreductions because I was willing to do absolutely anything to keep my son safe. I was terrified every single day, but I kept going. Because every time I felt him kick, every time I saw him moving on an ultrasound, every time he danced inside my belly, I had hope. Hope that somehow we would beat the odds. Hope that one day I would bring him home. Hope that all the pain and fear would be worth it when I finally got to hear him cry. At 34 weeks, my beautiful Mariel was born weighing 4 pounds, 10 ounces. And instead of the beginning of our lives together, it became the beginning of our goodbye. My baby had otocephaly and severe abnormalities involving his airway and esophagus. He had no esophagus and no viable airway. The medical team tried to intubate him, but they couldn't. Even a tracheostomy wasn't possible. There was nothing they could do to save him. My baby died after just 19 minutes. Nineteen minutes. I carried him for months. I loved him through every terrifying diagnosis. I fought for him through every procedure. And the world gave me nineteen minutes. How is that fair? How am I supposed to accept that? How am I supposed to understand that I grew an entire human being inside my body, felt him dancing beneath my ribs, learned his little routines, and then had to watch him die? I was supposed to protect him. I know, logically, that I did everything I possibly could. I know his conditions were beyond anyone's control. But there is a part of me that will always wonder whether there was something else I could have done. One more appointment. One more procedure. One more doctor. One more chance. After Mariel passed, I was blessed with 29 hours with him in a cuddle cot. Twenty-nine hours. I held him. I looked at him. I memorized him. His little face. His tiny hands. His beautiful features. I wanted to memorize every single inch of him because I knew those memories would have to last me the rest of my life. And then I had to leave. I had to leave my baby behind. I cannot begin to explain what that does to a mother. To walk out of a hospital without the child you walked in carrying. To have your body recovering from childbirth while your arms are painfully empty. To know that the world is continuing as if nothing happened when your entire world has just ended. And now I'm here. Trying to figure out how to live a life that was supposed to have him in it. People have been so kind. I've received care packages, thoughtful gifts, and beautiful memorial items. I'm even having a custom weighted bear made from his crocheted belongings, with his ashes and hair inside, weighing exactly what he weighed when he was born. Four pounds, ten ounces. I want something I can hold against my chest. Something I can cuddle at night. Something that might make my arms feel just a little less empty. But the truth is, no matter how many custom bears I have made, how many care packages I receive, how many memorial items I collect, or how many beautiful things people do to honor him, nothing is enough to dull this pain. And I feel awful even saying that because I am so incredibly grateful for every act of kindness. But none of it is him. The bear won't breathe. It won't grow. It won't look up at me. It won't reach for me when it needs its mommy. It won't dance when I play his favorite songs. And I think that's what destroys me the most. I don't want another gift. I want my son. I want to feel his little feet kicking inside me again. I want to complain about him keeping me awake at night. I want another ultrasound where I get to see him wiggling around. I want to hear his heartbeat. I want to hold him while he's warm and breathing. I want to change his diapers. I want sleepless nights. I want the crying, the messes, the exhaustion, the ordinary struggles of motherhood that I would give absolutely anything to experience with him. I want to watch his siblings love him. I want to celebrate his first birthday. I want to watch him grow. I want all the moments that were stolen from us. And I can't have any of them. Sometimes I find myself listening to the music I used to play for him, almost expecting to feel him move again. But there's nothing. No little kicks. No dancing. Just silence. God, I miss my little dancer. I miss someone I barely got to hold but knew more intimately than anyone else in this world. I miss the little boy who lived beneath my heart. And I don't know what to do with all this love that still exists when the person I want to give it to is gone. I want to be clear that I am under the care of a doctor and a therapist. I am receiving professional support and doing what I can to take care of myself through this grief. But professional help doesn't erase the fact that my baby is dead. Therapy cannot bring him back. Medication cannot give me another minute with him. There is no treatment that can make my arms stop longing for the child they were supposed to hold. I am trying. I really am. I'm trying to get through the days. I'm trying to be present. I'm trying to find moments where I can breathe without feeling like my chest is being crushed. But sometimes the grief is so overwhelming that all I can do is cry. And I don't want to be told that he's in a better place. I don't want to hear that everything happens for a reason. I don't want someone to tell me that at least I got to meet him. Because I was supposed to get a lifetime. I was supposed to be his mommy here, too. I know I will always be his mother. I know that death cannot take that away from me. But I wanted to raise him. I wanted to know who he would become. I wanted to hear him call me Mommy. I wanted to see the world through his eyes. And instead, I'm learning how to be the mother of a child I have to love from a distance I never agreed to. I'm sharing this because I desperately need to be somewhere that I don't have to pretend to be strong. Somewhere I can say that I'm not okay without feeling like I need to immediately reassure everyone that I will be. Somewhere people understand that I can be grateful for the time I had with my baby and still be absolutely devastated that it was all I got. I don't need anyone to fix this. I don't think it can be fixed. I just need people who understand. People who won't be uncomfortable when I say his name. People who won't expect me to move on. People who understand that grief isn't a lack of gratitude, and that no amount of love, gifts, support, or counseling can replace the child you buried. My son was not just a pregnancy. He was not just a diagnosis. He was not just nineteen minutes. He was Mariel. He was my beautiful, stubborn, dancing little boy. He was loved every second of his existence. And he is still loved now. I just wish loving him this much could somehow bring him back. If you're a parent who has lost a baby, how do you carry this? How do you wake up every morning knowing that the person you would give your life for is never coming home? Because right now, I don't know how to make peace with a world that keeps turning without my little boy in it. Mariel Lucio Rae My son. My little dancer. My forever baby. Nineteen minutes of life. A lifetime of love. And a mommy who would give anything for just one more dance. 💙🪽

TW nuchal cord

Hi everyone, I’m new to this sub. I guess I just need a place to vent, or at least yell into the void. About 3 months ago we lost what would have been our first child, a boy. At 18 weeks and 3 days they couldn’t find a heartbeat. Everything had been normal up until that point. After I delivered him they found that he had a case of nuchal cord. The cord was wrapped tightly around his neck six times. Obviously we were devastated and are still trying to process everything. We initially wanted to try and find the cause and were wanting to do all the tests… but after finding out about the cord we declined because that seemed to be the obvious cause. I guess I’m just wondering if anyone else had something similar happen. I would never wish this on anyone. It just seems so crazy and unlikely. I’m still reeling from it 3 months later. Anyway, if you made it to the end of this post, thanks for being here.

It’s a long, painful story that I’ll share one day… Although I knew these complications were very likely for a while, it still shattered me. In a few days, I’m about to go into labour for a medical termination (TFMR) and I’m terrified. From what the doctor explained, I’ll have pills inserted and then I wait until I’m in labour. It’s about 460 grams and I’ve only ever been sexually active about 5 times (very conservative background). What should I (24F) expect? Has anyone been through this and what was your experience during the process and recovery? How has it affected you physically? Mentally and emotionally, I’m currently locking myself out of feeling anything and choosing not to see it. I want to distract myself with everything other than emotion. At 23 weeks, has it been painful and is there bleeding? scarring, tearing and what are the long term effects (physical and emotional)? My husband passed days after we conceived and now my baby is about to because of a weak heart… I’m going to need to start my life over someday and I’m scared. Mentally, I’ll never be the same… but will my body ever be?

I recently miscarried at around 12 weeks after an unplanned pregnancy.

My husband had not wanted another child, but I became very attached to the pregnancy and was devastated by the loss. We had a fight when my husband said while I was miscarrying he didn't want this baby and won't try again. We haven't talked after that. My husband just completely shut down and I’ve been struggling with how alone I feel in my marriage.

We already had problems before this, but after the miscarriage I don't feel like working for our marriage anymore. I still love my husband very much and we have children together, so the thought of divorce is incredibly painful. But I don't know how we can go forward. Losing my baby and not even trying to get them back is messing with my heart and head so bad I can't even think straight anymore.

Has anyone else started seriously considering divorce after a miscarriage? Did the loss change how you saw your relationship?

My water broke on the 25th at 7 PM. Four weeks early. My beautiful baby boy was born at 7:34 AM on the 26th. We got to hold him for two hours before we lost him. I miss him so much. I have to say goodbye to him today and I am not ready to let him go. How do you continue? How do I leave him? I have to go home empty handed. All I want is my baby boy.

Hello everyone. It has been 27 days since I lost my son. He was born alive at 24 weeks and 3 days, and passed away 10 minutes later. His birth was caused by cervical insufficiency, followed by PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes). Lately, I’ve been feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt, because I believe I could have noticed it sooner. I didn’t have any symptoms, but I simply waited for my scheduled monthly check-up; I keep asking myself why I wasn’t more insistent and why I didn’t ask for an appointment earlier. Perhaps, if I had realized it sooner, things wouldn’t have ended this way. I hate myself. I hate the life I am living right now. I miss my son, and I miss who I was before. I cannot seem to escape this vortex of anxiety and depression. Yesterday, a colleague asked me how the pregnancy was going. I didn’t answer. I don’t have the courage to tell people like that—who aren’t exactly close friends—what happened. Do any of you experience these kinds of feelings?

My husband and I have been struggling with infertility for almost 5 years. After three IUIs, our second IUI was finally successful, and we were beyond happy. After years of praying, hoping, and waiting, we finally thought we were going to become parents.

Unfortunately, our happiness was short lived, and I miscarried in February. We named our baby Micah.

Our baby’s due date was supposed to be around November 1st, and as that day gets closer, I’ve been struggling emotionally. It’s hard knowing that I should be preparing to bring our baby home, but instead I’m trying to figure out how to get through a day that was supposed to be so special.

I really want to do something meaningful to honor Micah on that day. I’ve even thought about doing a remembrance photoshoot, but part of me wonders if that’s strange since I miscarried so early.

For those of you who have experienced a miscarriage, did you do anything special on your baby’s due date? Did you have pictures taken or create something to remember
them by?

I know our baby was only with us for a short time, but Micah was so loved and wanted. I just don’t want that day to pass like it was any other day.

I lost my baby at 24+5 weeks unexpectedly. I didnt have any symptoms except there was no fetal movement one day and the L&D told me her heart stopped beating. After I delivered vaginally, I did so many blood tests to figure out what was wrong. Everything came out fine even cord and placenta.

Even though I know I shouldnt, I just kept blaming on myself. One of the things that I kept thinking about is eating sweets and too much carbs. I have pcos. My AMH level was 37 before I got pregnant. Even my doctor was so shocked how high the number was. I drank one can of coke zero almost everyday, ate sweets and carbs.

I had an appointment to do the glucose test in 2 weeks from the delivery, and never got to do it. Do you think this could be factor of my baby’s death?

Hello all, I am deep in the depths of dealing with loss and looking for a ray of hope, I lost a baby in May due to trisomy 16 at 10 weeks, and this weekend I delivered our 17 week baby which we don’t know yet why she passed. I am desperate for a second baby and a sibling for my little boy but I feel like I can never trust my body or go through that again, has anyone experienced similar and had a healthy pregnancy after ? Or even if your in the same boat and want to connect x

I’ve turned into a bitter, dark and moody person. I see TWs around infertility and loss and I appreciate that it might be very pertinent and helpful for many. But after three losses and IVF, it seems like I do better with media and stories around pregnancy loss and infertility (still hard) than I do with happy endings. Each of my losses was something completely different: early miscarriage, PPROM, ectopic…so basically, I feel like I know that things can go wrong in so many different ways and it’s just expected. I will forever be anxious about all the ways in which my hypothetical child might die if I’m ever blessed enough to get one earth side. But when I see depictions of happy endings, it makes my blood boil. I’m so bitter that I don’t get that ending for myself and I hate getting a visual of it.

Soooo…anyone else feel like that?

Edited to fix typo that made me sound potentially Irish…

I have been so angry the last week. I had a second trimester miscarriage at the end of August. We found out on our anniversary. A missed miscarriage as well, so my body hadn't registered that my daughter had passed almost three weeks before. I had a d&c with general anesthesia so small mercies that I don't have added trauma from that procedure. I didn't even know I was having a girl for sure until after she was already gone. We weren't going to find out but had to have the nipt done after my nuchal was flagged for trisomy 21.

The nipt also came back with a high probability of trisomy 21. We were scheduled for an amniocentesis.

This pregnancy was after unexplained secondary infertility. We had to do iui. I was ready to throw in the towel on it. This was our last iui cycle and it ended like this. I'm so angry and don't want my fertility journey to end like this so I've agreed to IVF. We can also do the extra pgt-a testing to account for trisomy 21.

But I'm just so goddamn angry lately. When I calmer I find I'm at peace with the miscarriage for the most part. My husband and I were torn over the idea of having a special needs child. I've worked in education for almost two decades and done a fair bit of special education. Downs is a huge spectrum and the prospect of a child with Downs scared the shit out of me. I was going to go for it because I couldn't bring myself to fully consider termination unless there was a serious physical concern that would drastically impact quality of life.

And then suddenly...the choice wasn't a choice anymore anyway. And I have a why which so many people don't get when they have a miscarriage. So I have a fair bit of closure

But I'm just angry. I'm angry I'm now going to be doing ivf once we redo the tests to make sure nothing has seriously changed. But I have to wait. So once I get my period we start the tests. Then we wait to go in for our consult. Then we wait for another period to start, then I can pump myself up with the drugs. So I get to do injections and I get to feel like shit all over again. And then this time I get to have a giant needle jabbed into my ovaries. And my husband gets to jerk off into a cup.

And it's the time. It's so much time with early morning appointments to check follicles and blood and get poked and probed and everything else and I just don't want it.

But I want a baby. And I'm about to be 39. And now I have a higher risk of trisomy 21 happening again. The best way to control for that is IVF with extra testing. That will help keep my anxiety at bay a bit I think.

Meanwhile my four year old continues to say super out of pocket things about wanting to be a brother. And it feels like everywhere I turn more and more pregnancies announcements in my wider circle. Oh and my cousin's wife is due in February - right around when I was due. Great.

Just be over here. Screaming into the void.

I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling. It’s been over a year since my fullterm stillbirth. I don’t want to partake in Halloween, for some reason that I can’t explain. I’ve had to make a conscious effort each day to survive my own nightmare and horror. I really don’t feel like seeing “dark” decorations mixed with laughter. I just want to avoid all of that. Anyone else??

Hi all,

I’m not wanting to celebrate the Holidays this year (Thanksgiving and Christmas) as it was supposed to be my daughters first holiday season. My husband is upset that I don’t want to celebrate.

Just curious how everyone else is navigating this season.

I’m 39F and miscarried at around 12 weeks.

The physical part was much worse than I expected. I needed medication to complete the miscarriage and ended up in the ER because of very heavy bleeding and fainting. It was so scary. I felt like my body broke down. I’m still recovering from that, but emotionally I feel like I’m still falling apart.

What I’m struggling with most is that I’m not only grieving the pregnancy itself. My husband is very adamant not wanting any more kids. We have one child.

Before I became pregnant, my husband had said he didn’t want any more children. I was heartbroken but tried my best to be ok with it. But then he stopped using condoms and I became pregnant almost immediately, and I genuinely believed he had changed his mind knowing I wanted I another child so much.

To my surprise he was mad. He even accused me planning it to happen even though he was the one who didn't want to use condoms. I never pressured or asked him to do that. But after the initial shock he became supportive. I slowly started to believe that he had accepted the pregnancy and maybe even wanted the baby in the end.

That belief became a huge part of how I experienced the pregnancy. I felt incredibly close to him. I imagined our family with another child. I thought we were beginning a new chapter together.

When I found out I was miscarrying, one of the things that kept me going was the thought that maybe we could try again. I thought we had both lost a baby we wanted and that we would somehow get through the grief together.

Now I know that isn’t how he feels. He has told me clearly that he still doesn’t want another child and doesn’t want to try again. He didn't want this one. He was just being lazy with condoms.

I feel like something inside me collapsed.

I know he is allowed to feel differently. I know I cannot ask him to want another child just because I do. But knowing that doesn’t make the grief any easier. I'm angry and disappointed with him for putting me through all this just because he didn't feel like using condoms and apparently thought I was too old to get pregnant. I was so happy for us but none of it was true.

I’m grieving the baby, but I’m also grieving the future I had already started to imagine. And I feel very alone in the loss because I don’t think my husband is grieving the same thing I am.

For anyone who has felt alone in a miscarriage because their partner experienced the pregnancy or the loss very differently: how did you get through it?

How do you grieve something that meant everything to you when the person beside you doesn’t seem to have lost the same thing?

I lost my first baby in 2022. A little boy. I was nearly 23 weeks.

I’ve since had two daughters and I love them more than I can ever say.

I have two family members who are pregnant. Both are having little boys. Other than my son, these will be the first boys in the family.

The feelings are so conflicting.

I want to be happy for them, but I’m not. I’m so sad for me.

It’s like I’m looking down the barrel of everything I lost and I feel so sad.

I’m dreading it.

I hate this.

We were even given ‘tips’ on how to conceive a boy for next time.

I just need to know I’m not alone.

The two closest people in my life (besides my husband) are pregnant. I am so angry. It’s unfair. It hasn’t even been four months since my daughter died. And in the past two weeks I’ve been told that my sister and my best friend are pregnant.

Selfishly, I hate them and I am so angry and I have nowhere to direct it towards.

My friend has a son, I have no living child, and I’m so jealous and angry that she is pregnant. And medically I have to wait at least two more months.

It was her son’s birthday party today, and I had already not planned to go because of the children that would be there. It is just too painful.

Then she and my sister told me they were pregnant. I just can’t be around pregnant people right now. It’s a constant reminder of everything I’ve lost.

Not to mention, they are due right at the time I lost my daughter. How do they expect me to celebrate them?

In conversation she asked how I was doing and said that they would miss me. I’ve felt so so alone recently and I just wanted to be honest about how I’m doing. So I let her know that it’s been hard, that I just found out that my sister is also pregnant and that I just can’t handle it very well. And that they weren’t the only party I had to bail on this week because of how hard the pregnancy news is.

Her feelings were hurt. Her words “I thought yall weren’t coming because of the other kids. I didn’t realize I was the reason.”

I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I’m so hurt and I feel so alone. I feel like there is no one I can talk to who understands me. I just want to scream, do you have ANY IDEA HOW HARD THIS IS? ANY AT ALL. I can barely even text you, how do you expect me to LOOK AT YOU AND BE CONSTANTLY REMINDED OF EVERYTHING YOU HAVE AND I DONT?

The worst thing is that she doesn’t deserve my anger. She is wonderful and has done nothing but try to be supportive and be there. And I am just so consumed with anger and hatred that I just want to burn it all down.

I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know what to do. I just want someone who understands. Someone who won’t get hurt and take it personally.

Maybe I’m just becoming a miserable person, but I needed to get it out.

Here is the original post-

https://www.reddit.com/r/babyloss/s/OMJIsm55QV

We lost our baby girl in June. She was our first after years and years of trying but she was the lucky embryo via ivf. When we were going through the loss, we only told our sisters and they would tell our parents and everything passed that is out of our hands. We had the best nurse who was an angel and said that our priority was us and our grief. I junfortunately had a lot of medical emergencies after giving birth too.

Everything all got heated recently bc my husband’s aunt called and texted us if we were going to attend her granddaughter’s birthday. Mind you- we haven’t heard from her at all. Husband flat out said, “we will not be there. We have not heard from anyone regarding our daughter.” He told his mom and laid down the laws with, “we are not wasting our presence if they can’t acknowledge our daughter. We always supported everyone and attended their parties and events.” She got the memo and apparently told both her sisters.

Her sisters sent us both their own texts and it’s pretty much damage control. The main message is- we wanted to give you privacy and space and we were waiting for you to reach out. One person even said: “we heard from an extended family!” Then female cousins (of those sisters) sent their own, “don’t hate me. I knew but wanted to give you space. And I don’t live in the area anymore. We were waiting on your announcement.” They also said they were told to give us space. Don’t know who that was- probably MIL but I don’t get it. She passed away in June. We’re close to November.

Moms- how do they not get this? My husband and I even received more support from our coworkers than his family? My family who live in other states would text me all the time to ask how we were doing? And also my baby died- what else or details do you need to know? I already know that most of my husband’s family lack emotional depth but I figured since they were parents, they would at least empathize or send a “thinking of you” text- AT LEAST.

Sorry for the rant. I know people are not going to fully get it but this is just so strange and offensive…

Hi all,

Today is the 2 month mark for when my baby, Ezra, passed. He was my first pregnancy, first baby, and first grandbaby (on both sides). He was born 16 weeks early and spent 46 days in the NICU before his infection came back and he went into septic shock.

We had his service last week and had an overwhelming amount of support from friends and family.

Hubs and I are struggling. Yes, we are doing therapy but I fear it is not doing enough for me. My grief is so intense, I will be asking for medication come my next doc visit. I don't sleep, my anxiety is through the roof, and my depression is winning the battles.

How do we get through this? I'm trying to keep busy but it hits me every day and I end up just sobbing.

10/30 was his expected due date and now I can't help but dread that day too. I understand 8 weeks is not a long time but it is getting harder every day.

I decided to do something I couldn’t do while pregnant but really, really missed - hit the trails on my mountain bike with my hubby and a great friend. Tired but feeling peaceful on a tough day.

Two years ago, our family experienced the unimaginable loss of one of our twin daughters.

In the months that followed, I found myself searching for a way to make sense of our grief and, one day, help our surviving twin understand her own story. As part of that journey, I wrote Whispers of a Purple Butterfly.

As a primary school teacher, I’ve seen how difficult it can be for children to understand grief and other big emotions. As a bereaved parent, I’ve lived it. My hope is that this book offers comfort, starts important conversations, and reminds children that even in life’s darkest moments, hope can still be found.

Although written for children, the book has something to offer:
• children experiencing grief or other emotional challenges
• parents, carers and families navigating difficult conversations
• teachers, schools and therapists supporting children’s emotional wellbeing
• football-loving readers
• and any child who enjoys a story filled with magic, mystery and adventure.

If my story resonates with you, I’d be so grateful if you could support this journey by sharing this post, following my writing page @rganjaviwriter on Instagram, or taking a look at Whispers of a Purple Butterfly.

Every share helps this story reach another child or family who may need it, while also helping to keep Bella’s memory alive.

Thank you for your kindness and support. It truly means more than words can say. 💜🦋

📖 Book: https://amzn.eu/d/09U3U39M

📷 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rganjaviwriter