Your grief has a place here

When a baby dies, the world expects grief to follow a neat timeline. But maternal grief doesn't tick boxes or follow schedules—it rewrites the entire story of who we are as mothers.

This grief lives in our bodies. It shapes how we breathe through contractions, how we hold our living children, how we navigate the grocery store when someone asks if this is our first. It whispers doubt into our deepest knowing, makes us question the intuition that once felt unshakeable. It can steal our confidence in birth itself—in our body's wisdom, in our ability to trust what we feel.

After loss, the voice that once said "I've got this" becomes quieter. We second-guess sensations, seek reassurance where we once felt certain, wonder if our inner compass is broken alongside our hearts.

My work honours the truth that maternal grief is not a problem to solve but a love that needs witnessing. I walk alongside mothers as they discover that their broken hearts can still beat with fierce tenderness, that intuition can be nurtured back to life, and that the love for a baby who died doesn't diminish—it transforms.