Pregnancy After Loss Support

Our love never dies.

From Lindsey M. Henke - Author, Therapist, & Speaker

Yes, courageous parent, YOU know best.



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Get our printable pregnancy after loss affirmations ➡️ https://pregnancyafterlosssupport.org/pregnancy-after-loss-affirmations-printable/

We're so grateful to Lindsey M. Henke - Author, Therapist, & Speaker for all she has done for the loss and pregnancy after loss communities. Her new memoir, When Skies Are Gray: A Grieving Mother's Lullaby, is absolutely beautiful and will be such a tremendous resource for the loss community. Nora's legacy continues to grow.

Preorder now: https://lindseymhenke.com/when-skies-are-gray-book/

Eleven years ago today, I became a mother. But not in the way I had hoped.

On a cold Minnesota night in December of 2012, after a perfect pregnancy, I went into labor - only to be told upon arrival at the hospital that horrible six-word sentence, “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.” My beautiful baby and firstborn, Nora, had died before she had the chance to live.

Arriving home with no baby in our arms, the house was dark, and the stillness of the delivery room had carried over into our home where life was then broken into two parts - before we left for the hospital and after we arrived, only to be told she had died. And in the after all I could see, feel, and know was the darkness.

In the moments, minutes, and months that followed Nora’s stillbirth, I grappled with the unbearable agony of losing a child. In order to cope, I turned to the only two skills I knew I had as a therapist–therapy and my newfound skill of writing.

Over the next year and a half, as I mourned the loss of Nora, words of my love and longing for her flowed out of me and onto the page. I started a blog, my writing was featured in major online publications, and once I became pregnant again, my story of love and loss, hope and fear, grief and joy, was picked up in mainstream magazines such as Pregnancy & Newborn Magazine. And then, because I had put my pain of missing her onto paper, Nora’s largest legacy that lives on became Pregnancy After Loss Support (PALS), a national nonprofit and online magazine for parents pregnant after a loss.

Writing about Nora has created so many things. But it didn’t save me from my sorrow. In fact, it widened it and deepened it all at the same time. This allowed me to make space for not just Nora, but a place for my love for her to go, a way for my grief for her to be heard, seen, and touched, even just on paper. Writing also gave me the ability to hold hope for the someone(s) who came after her, her sister and brother, now nine and seven–the beings that could not be without Nora not being.

So many things Nora’s love has left behind: A blog that millions have read to find solace and support in their own sorrow, the gift of siblings who sadly cannot see their sister, a nonprofit that supports those holding hope in fear almost as the same syllable.

And eleven years of writing, of putting pain onto paper, has taught me that my grief is just my love for her, and those years of writing about my love for her have now materialized into the final gift Nora leaves behind - a memoir. A gift not just for me but for those who have also lost a child and need hope that the sharp ache of grief you feel will soften over time, though your love for your child you lost will always remain. And it’s okay to feel that love; it’s a mother’s love, and like lullabies, a mother’s love never dies.

My debut memoir, When Skies Are Gray: A Grieving Mother’s Lullaby, is the lullaby I never got to sing to the child who made me a mother. It's the lament I could not leave unsung. It’s the lullament of every bereaved mother.

It’s also out to preorder today!

Thank you, Nora, for making me a mother and so much more!

📚 Preorder now: https://lindseymhenke.com/when-skies-are-gray-book/

Sweet babies, we love you for a lifetime. ❤️

Be gentle with yourselves in the New Year, courageous parents.

Who are you missing and wishing for tonight?

Be gentle with yourselves as we move into the new year, courageous parents. Know you will always carry your baby's memory with you. ❤️

It can be so hard to approach the new year after your baby has died. We wanted to pause today and remember the precious babies who died in 2023. Please share your babies' names below so we can speak them and remember them with you. We're holding you all close.

A new year means another year without our babies. If you're struggling as we approach the new year, you are not alone.

This sweet girl would be 11 today. Eleven. Our hearts ache with PALS founder, Lindsey Henke, and her family as they remember sweet, beautiful Nora today.

We have this amazing community for parents who are pregnant after a loss because of Nora. Your legacy is vast, sweet girl. We sure wish you were here, but since you are not we want to make sure the world knows about you and your legacy. ❤️

Let's surround Lindsey and her family with love and gratitude for this amazing space by donating $11 in Nora's name in honor of her 11th birthday. Let's reach our fundraiser goal of $10,000 today, in memory of Nora.

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🎁 Donate now at our website ➡️ https://pals.fyi/WWIG

🎁 Donate now to our Facebook Fundraiser ➡️ https://www.facebook.com/donate/1533710700761086/346416021416246/

You are brave, courageous parents.

"Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition." ~Steve Jobs



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Get our printable pregnancy after loss affirmations ➡️ https://pregnancyafterlosssupport.org/pregnancy-after-loss-affirmations-printable/

"All I could see was her."

A heartbreakingly beautiful piece from Lindsey M. Henke - Author, Therapist, & Speaker

“Would you like to hold her?” The doctor asked me after my daughter was stillborn.

Not ready to see who she was meant to be, but never would, I looked away the moment her 8 pound 12 oz lifeless body was placed on my chest. Skin to skin we touched for the first time from the outside when her scent of metallic blood mixed with baby powder found me. I’d waited for this moment for months, not ever imagining it would be like this. Afraid to look down and see that the baby I held in a cream colored blanket in the nook of my arm was a co**se. For I still held onto a dissociated hope that the doctors were wrong. She did not die inside of me. Her heart was still boldy beating I wanted to believe. The machinery, not her form, had failed.

Breathless. I didn’t think I could ever breathe again, but then my lungs filled with air while hers remained empty. This is not how it was supposed to be. I repeated over and over again in my mind. Squinting my already shut eyes tighter together I inhaled deeply one more time before summing the courage to turn my gaze towards her.

Don’t look, you’ll never be able to go back. I heard myself scream inside my mind. But on my exhale I opened my eyes and everything else faded away. I could no longer hear the blood pressure machine beeping or feel the doctor stitching me up. I didn’t mind that my skin was soaked with sweat and drenched in the dampness of bodily fluids. I could no longer smell the stench of antiseptic mixed with my blood that had spewed all over the floor or notice that my husband had stepped away from the hospital bed with his hand held over his mouth as tears streamed down his face.

All I could see was her.

In the place where seconds ago I could not look, I then found myself unable to not look away. Suddenly, mesmerized by my daughter I was so afraid to see. She was a beautiful baby, with long brown eyelashes and big dark black lips. I would never know the sound of her coo or the color of her eyes as they would never open and I couldn't bear to peek because I wanted to remember her like this. For even in death, she was stunning.

Never had I experienced love like this and I could feel it slipping away.

Wanting with everything in my being to pretend that her paleness just looked like Snow White and she was just asleep like Sleeping Beauty. But the kiss I placed on her stony forehead would not make her wake. Every passing second her body without breath became more tepid to my touch. But at that beautifully cruel moment, I did not notice. Because all I could see was her brilliance.

This is one of the most amazing things about the babyloss community: we do everything in our power to support those who join "the club" after us. It's the worst possible club, filled with the most incredible people.

Pregnancy After Loss Support was created by parents who wished they'd had this support during their pregnancy after loss. Our Pregnancy After Loss App exists because parents requested it, then funded it, knowing they may not get to use it. They knew how much it would have helped them and wanted it for other loss parents. Now, we need each person who has been supported by PALS to pay it forward to those who have yet to experience loss and pregnancy after loss.

As we reach the year-end, please make a gift today. A donation of $40 (for the 40 weeks of pregnancy after loss) helps us provide support and hope through our Pregnancy After Loss App to individual members during their pregnancy.

🎁 Donate now at our website: https://pals.fyi/WWIG

🎁 Donate now to our Facebook fundraiser: https://www.facebook.com/donate/1533710700761086/346416021416246/

Every. Single. Moment.
At PALS, we hold hope all throughout the year. We help parents choose hope over fear while nurturing their grief. And as we approach the new year, we’re asking for you to give generously so we can continue to give hope to the families who seek support after pregnancy, infant, and child loss from Pregnancy After Loss Support.

Please make a gift today. A donation of $40 (for the 40 weeks of pregnancy after loss) helps us provide support and hope through our Pregnancy After Loss App to individual members during their pregnancy.

🎁 Donate now at our website: https://pals.fyi/WWIG

🎁 Donate now to our Facebook fundraiser: https://www.facebook.com/donate/1533710700761086/346416021416246/

You grieve because you love, courageous parents. And you loved so much.

Pause.

Just breathe.

You can do this.

Who are you missing this Christmas? Tell us about them. Let us remember your sweet children with you.

Sending you all the love, courageous parents. We know Christmas can be hard. ❤️️

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It's to wish your baby was here for the holidays.

Who are you missing this holiday season? I'd love to remember them with you.