October is a beautiful month of falling leaves, cozy sweaters, and the promise of holidays ahead. But for me, it is also a quiet, heavy month—a time when my heart makes space for two kinds of profound loss.

This month is dedicated to Breast Cancer Awareness (pink ribbon) and also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness (pink and blue ribbon, or purple). For my family, these awareness colors represent my beloved grandmother, my vibrant young aunt, and my baby girl.

Grief is often described as love with no place to go. In October, I find myself looking for places to put that love, and in doing so, I find healing.

The Women Who Fought: My Family's Legacy of Strength

Breast cancer took two important women from my life.

First, my grandmother, who had faced a mastectomy when she was younger. When the cancer returned ten years ago, her choice was heartbreakingly simple: she decided she had fought enough. She chose peace over treatment, and we lost her a few months later. Her decision taught me a powerful lesson about dignity, peace, and choosing quality of life at the end.

Then there was my aunt, who was far too young. Her cancer spread quickly, taking her from us before we were ready. She left a void that reminds me every single day how vital awareness and early detection truly are.

This is why, when I see my workplace recognizing Breast Cancer Awareness Month, it means the world to me. It is a loud, public declaration that these lives mattered, and that we must continue to support the fight for future generations. *If you take one thing away today, let it be this: please schedule your mammogram. Please talk to your loved ones. This isn't just about a ribbon; it’s about more time.

#The Baby Who Stayed for an Hour: My Enduring Love

Almost 19 years ago, I became a mother to twins: a boy and a girl. An hour later, I became a mother who experienced loss.

We lost my sweet baby girl.

The grief of infant loss is a silent, isolating thing. You leave the hospital with empty arms, and the world moves on, often forgetting the baby that was there for such a short, precious time.

But I remember her every single day. And I visit her gravesite often. Some people ask why, since I know she isn't "there." I go because it is the one place where I can talk to her and feel completely grounded in my motherhood to her. It is the physical place where my heart can finally land, the one space I created just for her, and for my own healing.

Her twin brother is my walking, talking miracle, but she is the quiet, constant beat of a love that was instantaneous and is eternal.

#Finding a Place for the Love

Whether your October grief is marked by the pink ribbon of cancer awareness or the purple ribbon of infant loss, the feeling is the same: the deep, profound ache for someone you miss.

The biggest lesson I've learned from both of these losses is that you don't have to keep your grief small or hidden.

* You can acknowledge your grandmother’s choice with grace.
* You can passionately advocate for your aunt's legacy by pushing for awareness.
* And you can visit a grave, or light a candle, or look at a picture, to publicly or privately honor the baby you never got to raise.

In the end, all of these acts—the remembering, the talking, the visiting, the advocating—are simply ways to express the enormous love you still hold.

This October, I hope you find a place for your love to go, too. May their memories be a blessing.

*Call to Action*

Breast Cancer:
Have you scheduled your preventative care this year? If not, please do it today.

Infant Loss:
If you are a parent of an angel baby, please share your baby's name on my "contact me" page.  I would be honored to remember them with you.

What is your favorite way to honor a loved one you've lost? Share your traditions below.