October 15th marks Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, and today, I want to share something deeply personal — a story about my sister Kristine, who died when she was just a day old.

Kristine was born on November 15th, a date that will always hold significance in my heart. She came into this world almost two years before I did, but I never had the chance to know her. Yet, her presence lingers with me in ways that are hard to describe. It’s surprising how much a loss like this can shape your life, even when it happened before you were born.

⇧ Kristine rests in a small, tenderly cared-for infant grave in a community cemetery in Fremont, Michigan. ❤️

I have two older sisters — Deede and Tammy — who are incredibly dear to me. They’ve been like second mothers, guiding me through life with love, wisdom and lots of laughter. But Kristine was different. She was two years older than me — closer in age. I often wonder what our relationship would have been like. Would we have been friends? Would we have shared the same interests, the same friends? Would she have been an artist, too? Where would she be living today? Would she have her own family?

The “what-ifs” surrounding her short life often weigh heavily on me. It's strange, even selfish at times, but I can't help but wonder — if Kristine had lived, would I even be here? It’s a question I’ve asked myself countless times. Probably Not. Both of our births were fraught with complications — I too almost died the day I was born. After me, my parents made the decision not to have any more children.

Though Kristine’s life was brief, her impact on our family has been immense. Until now, I don’t think I’ve ever shared with my mother how much her loss has affected me personally. It’s not something we talk about often, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t felt, every single day.

⇧ My family: me, my mom, my sister Tammy, my dad, and my sister Deede.

My heart aches for anyone who has endured this kind of loss. Miscarriage and infant loss have the potential to ripple through families for generations, touching the lives of those who never even had the chance to meet the child they mourn. The pain is real, and it lasts for years, sometimes lifetimes.

Today, my thoughts are with all of you who have suffered the loss of a baby. My heart aches for you and your family. Your child was loved, is loved, and will always be remembered.

Cover photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash