Stillbirth Awareness Day

There's a silence that follows stillbirth. It's the silence of empty arms and the calendars that never get to count down. It's the silence of people who don’t know what to say, so they say nothing at all. Today, on September 19, I want to name that silence and fill it with truth, with remembrance, and with the permission to feel every single feeling that wells up.

This day is for all of us parents, families, and communities who hold a love that didn’t get the lifetime it deserved. It's for the babies who will live forever in our stories. And it’s also for the complicated, tender work of learning to live again after loss not by "moving on," but by moving forward with our love always beside us.

The Complexities No One Warns You About

Grief doesn't follow a straight line. One day you can breathe, and the next, a song on the radio brings you to your knees. Both of those days are valid. I remember thinking I was "doing better" one morning, only to be sobbing that afternoon when a diaper commercial came on TV. That's when I realized that grief doesn't follow rules; it comes in waves, and sometimes those waves crash when you least expect them.

You also learn that your body remembers. Due dates, ultrasounds, the feeling of your body changing, these anniversaries are engraved on your muscle and bone. These are the things we hold on to dearly to get by. And then there are the relationships that shift. Partners grieve in different ways, and friends, no matter how well-meaning, can sometimes miss the mark. Setting boundaries becomes both necessary and exhausting. The world keeps spinning, with work emails and holiday gatherings, long before your heart is ready. It's disorienting and deeply unfair. Naming these truths doesn't make them easier, but it does make them shareable.

Permission to Seek Joy (Without Guilt)

One of the biggest fears after loss is that feeling joy might somehow disrespect or erase our baby. I've learned that it won't. Joy can be a form of reverence. Think of it as oxygen: we deserve to breathe even as we cry. The first time I laughed after my loss, I was immediately filled with guilt. But then I reminded myself that if my baby were here, they would be the very source of my joy. That thought helped me see laughter not as a betrayal, but as a way to honor the love that will always exist.

For me, exercise became my permission slip for joy. Grief can feel heavy and stagnant, but movement creates a different kind of energy. It's not about "bouncing back" or getting a "pre-baby body." It’s about listening to what my body needs and giving it a gentle way to process. Some days that looked like a long, slow walk, where I could let my tears fall freely and feel the sun on my face. Most days, it was a more intense workout that helped me release the pent-up frustration and anxiety.

Sometimes I'd whisper my baby's name with each step, turning the movement into a silent conversation. When I was ready, I'd put on a favorite song and let the rhythm carry me. The goal was never to feel "happy," but to feel alive.

Here are a few ways I’ve learned to practice joy alongside grief through movement:

• Gentle movement: Start with something low-pressure, like stretching, a short walk, or gentle yoga. It's not about performance; it's about presence.

• Finding a rhythm: Put on music that makes you feel something. Let the beat become a grounding force.

• Making it a ritual: I started dedicating my weekly walks to my baby's memory. The act of putting one foot in front of the other became a quiet tribute.

• Allowing small joys to count: Feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, a cool breeze, or a moment of clarity after a workout. These are all small wins of joy that deserve to be celebrated.

Ways to Honor Your Baby on September 19 (and Any Day)

Honoring your baby can be a powerful way to hold their memory close. You can:

• Say their name: It matters. The simple act of speaking their name aloud is a gift.

• Make a memory: Plant a tree or flower in their memory, frame an ultrasound picture, assemble a keepsake box, or write them a letter.

• Engage in community care: Offer or ask for help, whether it's a meal train, a "soft-yes" to an invitation, or a simple phone call.

• Advocate: Support organizations that are working to improve perinatal care, bereavement leave, and support for grieving families.

If You Love Someone Who Is Grieving

You don’t have to have all the answers. The most important thing is to be there.

• Lead with presence, not fixes: Saying, "I'm here, and I'm listening," is enough.

• Use the baby’s name: It is one of the kindest things you can do.

• Offer specific help: Instead of "Let me know if you need anything," try "I can drop off dinner on Thursday," or "I'll do the school run this week."

• Honor anniversaries: Add their due date and birth date to your calendar and send a note or flowers on those days. One of the most meaningful gestures I received was a text from a friend on my due date: "I remember. I’m thinking of you and your baby today." Those words meant everything because they acknowledged that my child had a place in the world and in my heart.

• Respect boundaries: Grief needs space, and so does joy when it finally shows up.

My Hope for Us

My grief is real, my love is eternal, and my capacity for joy is not a betrayal. On Stillbirth Awareness Day, my hope for anyone else walking this path is that you feel seen in the complexity of your grief and held in community.

Today, I will hold both my grief and my joy in the same hands. I will light a candle in memory, and I will allow myself to smile at a small moment of beauty. Both are a part of my love story with my baby.

Sebrena Tate

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Advocate

Helping Bereaved Moms Learn How to Embrace their Grief