My mother held me in my grief when I lost my infant son.

One woman who is held in her grief becomes the woman who holds the next one. That is why Held by Daisy exists. It is why I keep writing to you.

This month, July, is quietly set aside for us. It is Bereaved Parents Awareness Month. A whole month that says, out loud, that a parent who has lost a child deserves to be seen. Not fixed. Not hurried. Seen.

I want to tell you about something I came across, because it has stayed with me.

Researchers asked parents who had lost a baby to stillbirth a simple question. Looking back, what would you do differently. The answer that came up more than any other was not about doctors or paperwork or what anyone said wrong.

It was this. They wished they had made more memories.

More time held. One more photograph. A name spoken aloud. A tiny hand traced onto paper. A lock of hair kept in a small box that would never be opened casually again.

I understand that wish in my body.

When you are inside the first hours of a loss, no one hands you a map. The world moves fast and strange, and the people around you are frightened, and everyone is trying to be kind by moving you along. You are not thinking about keepsakes. You are trying to breathe.

And then the years come. And the thing you find yourself reaching for is the thing you almost did not have time to gather. The memory.

If you are early in your loss as you read this, I want to tell you something I wish someone had told me. It is not too late to make a memory. It is never too late. The photograph you did not take, you can still write the moment down. The name you were not sure you were allowed to say, you are allowed. Say it. The child you were so excited to meet is worth remembering out loud, for as long as you live.

This is the heart of everything I do. The child who was longed for deserves to be remembered. And the remembering is not a wound you keep picking at. It is a legacy of love you get to build.

That is what Held by Daisy is for. A place to be held while you gather your memories. A place where your baby’s name is welcome. A place where you do not have to be strong before you are ready.

If this is you, you are welcome here.

If you have a story you are ready to tell, I am gathering them now, for a collaborative book written by mothers and families who have carried this loss. Your baby’s story could help the next mother feel less alone. And my own story lives in my book, Until Next Time, if you would like to sit with it.

There is a month on the calendar this July that sees you.

But you do not need a month. You need one small, true thing.

Find one thing to love today. One memory to hold. One name to whisper.

That is how we begin to walk home. That is how I began.

Until next time.

heldbydaisy.com

Bereaved Parents Awareness Month is observed every July. The stillbirth care finding comes from Lamberson et al., “Parent hospital experiences following stillbirth,” Frontiers in Psychiatry, February 4, 2026. If you are struggling with the weight of this grief, please know these feelings deserve real care, and you do not have to carry them alone.