Pregnancy and infant loss touch more families than many realize — yet conversations around it are often met with silence. For the millions of people, like me, who’ve experienced miscarriage, stillbirth, or the death of a baby in the first year of life, this silence can feel isolating. That’s why Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, observed every October, is so important. It creates space for stories to be shared, grief to be honored, and love to be remembered.
This month is about breaking the stigma, supporting one another, and ensuring that parents and families never have to grieve alone.
When is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month?
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month takes place every October. In the United States, the official recognition began in 1988, when President Ronald Reagan proclaimed October as a month to honor families grieving the loss of a pregnancy or infant. His words remain powerful today:
“When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses their partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them.”
The month-long observance is recognized globally, with October 15th designated as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. On this day, many join the Wave of Light — lighting candles at 7pm local time in memory of babies gone too soon.
Why awareness matters
Pregnancy and infant loss are far more common than many people realize. In the United States, around 1 in 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, which means most people either have experienced it themselves or know someone who has. Stillbirth — the loss of a baby at 20 weeks or later — affects about 1 in 175 pregnancies. And thousands of families each year face the devastating loss of an infant within the first year of life, often because of complications like prematurity, congenital conditions, or sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS).
These numbers aren’t abstract. They represent real families — parents, siblings, grandparents, and friends — grieving a life that was deeply wanted and loved. Last year, I was one of those parents who went through a missed miscarriage at 13 weeks. Chances are, if you haven’t been directly impacted, you know someone who has, even if they’ve never shared their story. Raising awareness helps break that silence, reduce stigma, and create more space for compassion, understanding, and support.
What color is the ribbon for infant loss?
The ribbon for pregnancy and infant loss is pink and blue. These colors symbolize the balance of grief and love, loss and remembrance — carrying both heartbreak and hope in equal measure. They can also represent the sex of the babies who’ve been lost. For many families, especially those who’ve gone through miscarriage, the sex of their baby is never known. The pink-and-blue ribbon honors all babies, whether or not their parents ever had the chance to learn those details.
Wearing or displaying a pink-and-blue ribbon during October may seem like a small gesture, but it holds powerful meaning. It’s a way of saying, “I see you, I stand with you, and your baby is remembered.”
Honoring stories of loss
One of the most meaningful parts of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month is the emphasis on storytelling. Sharing experiences can bring comfort to others walking a similar path, while also breaking the silence that so often surrounds baby loss.
Tassia’s story
Questions Women Are Asking
In October 2024, I experienced a missed miscarriage at 13 weeks. The scan showed that our baby had stopped growing weeks earlier, around 7 weeks, after we'd seen a heartbeat a week earlier, but my body hadn’t recognized the loss. What followed was days of bleeding, an emergency room visit, a painful D&C, and months of physical and emotional recovery — I’m not sure I’ve fully recovered even now.
My family knew I was pregnant, and they reached out to support me. My mom even came to stay with us for a weekend after the loss. She had experienced a miscarriage herself, between me and my brother, and she felt my pain. We talked, we cried, and we mourned together.
I was fortunate to have that support, but I know not everyone does. Many people go through pregnancy or infant loss in silence, unsure of how to share their story or whether anyone will understand. That’s why Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month is so important — it creates a space where grief can be seen, validated, and held with compassion.
Abby’s story
In May 2018, after learning that my husband and I had less than a 1% chance of conceiving naturally, we began our first IVF journey. Our doctor recommended starting with a “priming cycle,” and I followed a confusing medication calendar. Over Memorial Day weekend, I packed my injections, alcohol wipes, and sharps container for a camping trip — determined to stay on track.
A few days later, back home, my period never came. Half-joking, my husband and I wondered if it could mean I was pregnant. I took a test the next morning, and to our shock, it was positive. After years of heartbreak, we called our families in tears — thrilled, even if it felt too early to celebrate.
When I shared the news with my nurse, her reaction gave me pause. After double-checking my meds, I realized I’d taken too much of my prescribed GnRH antagonist — a medication not meant for use during pregnancy. My heart sank as she gently explained that the drug could cause miscarriage.
A few days later, at a baby shower of all places, I got the call confirming my hCG levels were dropping. That evening, the bleeding began. It was the most painful, disorienting experience of my life. My husband and best friends held me as I grieved what could have been.
Like so many, I’ll carry that loss — and the guilt — forever. I’ve since learned that a loss doesn’t need to be justified by how far along you were; mine happened at just 5½ weeks. A loss is still a life, and every one deserves to be remembered.
Kristyn’s story
No one really prepares you for when IVF doesn’t work. After a successful cycle with my twins, I went through transfer after transfer, each one ending in disappointment, in pursuit of baby #3. Two years later, I finally got that positive pregnancy test, and I let myself believe it might actually happen this time.
At first, everything looked normal — doubling betas, cautious excitement — and then came the 6.5-week ultrasound. That’s when I found out there was a gestational sac… but no yolk sac. A blighted ovum. Honestly, I didn’t even know that was a thing.
The medical side of miscarriage was brutal and fast. I tried medication, but it didn’t work, and I ended up needing an emergency D&C. Everything happened so quickly that I barely had a moment to process it.
That’s when I learned grief doesn’t follow a timeline. Months later, it hit me again in waves — sadness, anger, numbness — catching me off guard. Losing a pregnancy, especially after putting your body and heart through so much, changes you. And that’s okay.
Pregnancy loss is common, but too often, it’s silent. Talking about it, acknowledging it, and remembering the babies we’ve lost can be a step toward healing and toward helping others feel less alone.
The silence around pregnancy loss
For many, one of the hardest parts of pregnancy or infant loss is the lack of open conversation. Miscarriage often happens before someone has shared their pregnancy news, which can leave grieving parents feeling invisible in their pain. Even when loss is later in pregnancy, society can struggle to acknowledge it fully — sometimes minimizing it with phrases like “at least you can try again” or “at least it was only XX weeks” or “at least you met them.”
(If it starts with “at least,” it’s the wrong thing to say.)
But grief after baby loss is real, valid, and often long-lasting. Studies show that people who experience pregnancy or infant loss are at increased risk of anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Open dialogue helps normalize these emotions and encourage families to seek the support they deserve.
Ways to participate in Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month
There’s no right or wrong way to honor this month. Whether grieving personally, supporting someone else, or simply wanting to raise awareness, there are meaningful ways to get involved:
- Join the Wave of Light: On October 15th, light a candle at 7pm in your time zone to honor babies lost to miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death.
- Share stories: Whether through social media, blog posts, or quiet conversations, telling and listening to stories creates community and validation. If you’re not comfortable sharing your story, you don’t have to.
- Support organizations: Charities like March of Dimes, Star Legacy Foundation, and Share offer resources, events, and advocacy work.
- Check in on friends: Sometimes the most impactful thing is a simple message that says, “I’m thinking of you.”
Your story matters
Every story of pregnancy or infant loss matters because every baby matters and every person going through it matters. Sharing stories not only honors who was lost, but also creates a ripple effect of awareness, compassion, and connection. For someone grieving in silence, hearing another parent’s experience can feel like a lifeline.
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month is a reminder that loss is not the end of love. Parents and families carry that love forever, and speaking it out loud helps ensure their babies are remembered.
For anyone who has experienced pregnancy or infant loss: you are not alone, your grief is valid, and your story deserves to be heard. None of us chose to be here, but in this community of loss, we find some of the most compassionate, resilient people we’ll ever meet.
Tassia O'Callaghan is an experienced women's health content writer and SEO content strategist, having written for brands like Peanut App Ltd, Scary Mommy, Fertility Mapper, Tally Workspace, and Office Christmas. She is an advocate for realistic sustainable living, supporting small businesses (author of A-Z of Marketing for Small Businesses), and equity across all walks of life. Follow her on LinkedIn or TikTok, or see more of her work on Authory or her website.