Today, we’re honored to share the story of mother, Amy Phillips, whose baby’s life was touched by cancer. Her words offer a glimpse into the heartbreak of loss, the enduring power of love, and what it means to carry your baby’s story forward. September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Over the years I've watched other mothers share their stories during this month, and I've always thought, “maybe someday I'll do that too”. It will be 14 years this coming January since I lo

As an obstetric sonographer, I often hear, “You have the best job in the world. Do you ever get tired of looking at babies? It must be so much fun. How did you get to do this?” And I agree. I truly do have one of the most rewarding jobs in the world, about 95% of the time. The other 5% is why I’m sharing this with you. For many families, an ultrasound is one of the most exciting moments of pregnancy. We carefully obtain the images and measurements required by our protocols, l

As a nurse who has delivered a Hope Basket, I have gotten to experience firsthand the emotions these patients have when being cared for and prayed over by complete strangers. Patients have mentioned how incredible of a gift it is to have physical and tangible items to create precious memories with their babies in the hospital before they go home. They’ve wrapped their child in the blankets to remember their sweet scent, we’ve taken pictures of them with their blankets or othe

Breast milk donation is probably the last thing that comes to mind when you're looking through the eyes of loss. It was five weeks after learning that my son wouldn't live long after birth that the idea of donating my milk even crossed my mind. The purpose of donating breast milk is to save the lives of babies who need it most. But if I'm honest, that wasn't what first led me to become a bereavement donor. At first, I wasn't thinking about saving someone else's baby. I was si

You know when you buy a red car and suddenly red cars are everywhere? Out of nowhere, or perhaps not by accident, the number 18 became my tiniest glimpse of hope in a season when hope felt invisible. I wasn't the first person to recognize the significance of the number 18, but I never imagined how deeply it would come to mean something to me. On the evening of December 17, completely out of the blue, my water broke. Maybe "broke" is too gentle a word. Immediately, I knew. Zek