This is my pregnancy loss story – a journey of love, grief and healing that became the heart of Our Healing Home.

Becoming pregnant with our son, Leland, was a long-hoped-for joy. After a year of trying and fertility treatment, we finally shared the news at Christmas and began weaving him into our everyday – planning a nursery, choosing tiny clothes, picturing the life we’d have as a family.

At nineteen weeks, while traveling, everything changed. My water broke unexpectedly, and our son was born far from home. Those hours were disorienting and deeply painful. We held him. We counted his tiny fingers and long legs and spoke his name. Love was everywhere and so was the ache. Bringing Leland home in the way we could became our only focus, and with compassion from a few key people, and fierce advocacy, we made it back.

Grief altered my days. It showed up in my body, in the quiet of the house, and in places I didn’t expect… like the soreness of milk that had nowhere to go or the ordinary errand that suddenly felt impossible. At the same time, community carried us: meals left at the door, texts that simply said “I’m here,” and friends who remembered important dates. Therapy helped us name what we were feeling and learn how to keep moving with love and sorrow side by side. Writing my pregnancy loss story became one small way to process what had happened—to name the pain, but also the love that remained.

Our Healing Home was born from that place. I needed a space that felt honest and tender—a place where grief could sit at the table with hope; where small rituals (lighting a candle, tending a corner of the house, stepping outside) could be enough for today. I also needed practical support: language for telling people what we needed, ideas for honoring our baby, and ways to mother again after loss.