October 12 – October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. Like many things in life, it’s something I wasn’t aware of until I had a reason to be. This past weekend my family and I honored Liliana at two remembrance ceremonies – one at our special place and the other through our support group. Both were beautiful opportunities to remember our babies who are no longer with us here in this life.

At our special place, the short service was lead by a priest who offered comfort to the families that our babies were with God and that we would see them again. It was a beautiful, sunny, fall day, and immediately following the service, the children got to release butterflies. Seeing so much life and joy in all of the children present was a beautifully sad contrast to the infant graves they ran across. And yet, there were more smiles than tears as the children painted pumpkins, ate donuts and cider and chased the butterflies in the air. It was a blessing to have my family present to honor Liliana and share in that experience.

The next day was a remembrance service put on through our support group – and this one, just my husband and I attended. Not to take away from the service at our special place, but this one was so much more personal. It was put on by parents who know the pain of losing a child and therefore know the desires of our hearts to hear their names be spoken, see their pictures and honor their memories through fellowship. As the program said, ‘It may bring tears to my eyes to hear my child’s name, but it also brings music to my ears.’

Each family was given a beautiful dragonfly wind chime. Ours will no doubt go into Liliana’s garden that we planted this year. After many poems, songs and a video of all of our babies, we did a balloon launch with messages we wrote to our angels. It was so moving and such a beautiful tribute to their lives to watch all the colorful balloons make their way up to heaven.

I can’t articulate the comfort from being with these families and not ever having to explain a single thing or emotion because they get it. It’s where I feel normal and safe. And ironically, it’s one of the only places it feels okay to laugh. I’m so thankful for them and the time I get to spend with them hearing about their babies and sharing about Liliana. Each month, we share our stories and I learn something new about their sons and daughters that I hadn’t heard before.  Every story is different, yet they’re all woven from the same fabric of grief and longing.

Later this month our church will have a remembrance ceremony as well where we will once again get to hear someone else say our daughter’s name aloud. It seems like a minor thing – saying a name aloud – and yet it’s everything to a parent whose child is long forgotten by most of the world. It says that our babies were real, they were here, they had meaning and they are loved.

I always loved the month of October because it represents autumn and the changing colors of the leaves, Thanksgiving, everything pumpkin, warm cider and donuts and pre-holiday excitement. But now, it will represent a time of year where I get to join others who walk beside me and honor Liliana throughout the month. It will be a month of remembrance, hope and love … not different than every other day for me, only this month, the rest of the world will remember with me.