I want women to know that it's okay to talk about the child they lost.

Our grief was indescribable.

In honor of my stillborn daughter's first birthday, we collected...books on grieving...

...to the moon, to the stars and back.

This doesn't happen to me. This isn't happening to me.

I think about them every day...

...that pregnancy ended while I cramped and sobbed alone in a bathroom at work.

Love is love no matter...

That's when life changed for me...

No one told me stillbirth was a thing.

But then the doctor's voice changed...

I was ashamed to talk about it...

I was literally crying in my sleep.

...again, it wasn't my fault.

I ask them, how am I supposed to be over it? I will never be over it.

I wanted my baby very much...

...we will hopefully be able to add another member to our family soon.

The grief was initially immense. Obliterating.

...I delivered our precious sleeping angel...

Her prognosis was incompatible with life.

It has been a very hard road...

What do I tell people?

...As my due date approached, I began to dare to believe.

Fun times...

I tried to smile and be polite but I could barely hold back the tears...

My heart stopped while sitting there listening to her tell us our baby didn't exist...

The medical system was definitely failing me, leaving me in an emotional state that felt inhumane.

Our stories are all different, but our pain is the same.

It was the most traumatic, yet beautiful experience of my life.

I carry my grief with me every day...

This wasn't something we had ever thought would happen to us.

In my heart I knew she was gone.

I'm not sure how to end this, my story isn't over...

"I've never seen a baby this sick make it out alive" still haunts me.

She was 10.5 inches and 13.04 ounces of pure perfection.