Everyone else moved on. You never got to.

There's no supposed to.

The question itself is usually the problem. It comes from somewhere outside you, from a world that got uncomfortable and wanted a date by which you'd be back to normal.

It took me months, and I was doing this work for a living. You are not behind.

No. And some of the women who need this most are years out.

Grief that never had anywhere to go doesn't disappear. It goes quiet and it goes underground, and then it turns up as anxiety, or numbness, or a wall between you and your partner that neither of you can explain.

If it's still there, it's still current. It doesn't matter what the calendar says.

No, and I won't pretend otherwise.

I'm a coach, mentor and emotional change specialist who lost her baby at 17 weeks. This isn't therapy and it isn't clinical treatment.

Plenty of women do both. If you're already seeing someone, keep seeing them. This sits alongside that, it doesn't replace it.

It's exactly the right place, and pregnancy after loss is its own particular kind of hard that almost nobody prepares you for.

You're supposed to be delighted. Instead you're holding your breath between appointments and refusing to let yourself want it.

Bring it to me. It's one of the things I most want that room to hold, and you will not be the only one in there carrying it.

Never.

Camera off, name changed, sitting in the dark with the sound low. All completely fine.

You can listen for months before you say a word, and something will still shift, just from hearing another woman say the thing you thought only you were thinking.

Right now the toolkit, because the community isn't open yet.

If what you need is something practical for the nights, that's the $17 USD toolkit and you can have it in the next two minutes.

If what's hurting most is the loneliness of it, register your interest in the community as well, then take the toolkit to get you through until it opens. You won't be paying twice for it either, the toolkit is included once you're in.

And if you're not ready for any of it, take the free guide. That's genuinely a fine place to stop for now.

I'm building it now, and I'm not going to give you a date I'm not certain I can keep.

What I will do is come to the women who registered first, before it's announced anywhere else.

Registering costs you nothing and commits you to nothing. It tells me who's waiting and what you're actually carrying, which is genuinely shaping what I build. If tonight is hard, don't wait for me. The toolkit exists now and it's made for exactly that.

Any time, from inside your own account. No phone call, no exit interview, no explaining yourself to anybody.

You'd be leaving a grief community. The last thing you should have to do on the way out is justify it.

This is one of the most common things women raise with me, and one of the first things I want that room to make sayable.

He looks like he's fine and you can't work out whether he's coping better than you or not feeling it at all, and there's a resentment sitting underneath that you don't really want to say out loud.

Say it there. It's one of the most common things in the room, and it's one of the things that shifts fastest once it's out of your head.

Because grief isn't living in your thoughts. It's living in your body.

All day you're managing: working, talking, being fine. That takes effort, and the effort is what's holding it down. The second you stop, at nine at night, in the shower, in the car with the engine off, the holding stops too and it comes up all at once.

It isn't a setback and it isn't you going backwards. It's the bill for a day spent performing okay.

Yes, and it's the part almost nobody gives you permission for.

Angry at your body for not doing the one thing. Angry at the timing. Angry at whoever said "at least you know you can get pregnant." Angry at the women who got to keep theirs, and then sick with shame for feeling that.

The shame is the problem, not the anger. Anger with nowhere to go turns inward and becomes the flatness that people mistake for depression. There's a hypnosis specifically for this in the toolkit, because it comes up so consistently.

Because you're grieving someone they never met.

They can't picture your baby, so they can't miss them with you. They can see you're sad and they genuinely don't know what to do with it, which means you end up managing their discomfort on top of your own grief.

So you start editing. You stop saying the true thing because you can see it landing badly. That's the loneliness. It isn't that nobody cares, it's that you've gone quiet to protect everyone else.

"At least it was early." "Everything happens for a reason." "You can always try again."

You don't owe any of them a gracious answer. "I'm not talking about it today" is a complete sentence, and so is changing the subject without softening it first.

Most of them aren't being cruel, they're uncomfortable and reaching for something to fill the silence. Understanding that doesn't mean you have to absorb it. The free guide has a section on this, because it's one of the most exhausting parts of the first few months.