A Letter from Carol · Special Edition
Hello, my friends. Today, I'm sharing about something close to my heart.
It's a beautiful season, my new favorite. Every fall, pumpkins begin appearing on porches, in pumpkin patches, and on doorsteps throughout the neighborhood. Most are orange, some are yellow or green, and every so often there is a white one.
A white pumpkin is a lovely piece of autumn décor, but for many parents and families who have experienced pregnancy or infant loss, it carries a meaning that goes far beyond the season.
The white pumpkin is a symbol of remembrance for a baby who was loved and lost, a family forever changed, and a little life that will never be forgotten. If you didn't already know, October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. On October 15, families around the world take part in the International Wave of Light, lighting candles at 7 p.m. local time so that a a wave of light travels around the globe in honor of the little ones lost.
October is also the month we lost our Grace.
Our Grace
If you've read our story, you know that in 2022, George and I lost our daughter, Grace, at 18 weeks of pregnancy, for no known reason. We had dreams for her, and we had imagined a whole future with her in it. Although our time with her was brief, she was and always will be our daughter. I will always be her mother. George will always be her father.
Her loss changed our lives, and it is the heart behind EverGrace. Grace inspired the company name, and the idea that grace can be present even in the hardest seasons of life is deeply personal to us. That isn't because grief is easy, or because loss needs to be explained away (quite the opposite), but because love remains. As the saying goes, grief is love with no place to go. We can miss someone deeply and find joy in their memory, all at the same time.
Where the White Pumpkin Tradition Began
The white pumpkin tradition began with another mother's story. In 2016, Jennifer Giles and her family were preparing to welcome a baby girl, Madelyn Grace, when Madelyn was stillborn at 38 weeks of pregnancy. Like so many parents who experience this kind of loss, Jennifer had to learn how to live with a grief she never expected and a love that had nowhere to go in the ways she had imagined.
In October 2018, she shared a poem she had written called The White Pumpkin. It begins by wondering why a white pumpkin seems so out of place among the colors of autumn, and it turns that simple image into a tender reflection on babies whose lives were brief but whose place in their families is lasting.
Her words resonated with bereaved parents and spread through the pregnancy and infant loss community. In 2020, she launched the White Pumpkin Project, working with an artist to create personalized remembrance pumpkins for families who wanted a visible way to honor their babies. The poem deserves to be read in Jennifer's own words, and you can find it, along with her story, at Pregnancy After Loss Support.
Why It Matters - The Important Part
There is something quietly powerful about a white pumpkin in a sea of orange. It stands apart without demanding attention. It is different, yet it belongs.
For families who have lost a baby, that image feels familiar. Their child may be missing from family photographs, holiday tables, and everyday life, and the world may not always recognize the loss.
I've heard it said that pregnancy loss is a very lonely journey, and I didn't know how little I understood that until I walked the path myself. Every loss is tragic, and grief is a pain beyond words for anyone. But I noticed a difference in my own journey.
When a family member or friend dies, a community draws close to grieve together. Stories are shared, memories are passed around, hands are held, and there are smiles for "that one time…" That grief is no easier, but it is different. As a community, you're able to process the grief together, alongside each other.
When a mother loses a baby during pregnancy or at birth, she is the only one who truly knew that baby. Instead of memories of shared holidays or trips, hers are of a craving or a kick, things only she could feel. The journey is different and confusing for fathers, too. A father may feel stuck in the middle, knowing but not knowing, wanting to help while needing support at the same time. He grieves the dreams he had for his child and may or may not have felt that same early connection to the baby as the mom.
Even with incredible support around you (and I am so thankful for ours), the support is different. It isn't the same kind of shared grief you can process together. The people who love you are grieving for you, not with you, because they never had the chance to know your baby. They are doing their absolute best to help, often unsure what to say or do.
I can only imagine how much heavier this is for those who carry it in silence. After we lost Grace, women I had known for years began telling me about their own losses, stories I had never heard until I had one of my own. Many of them had grieved alone, held back by a sense that this was something you simply didn't talk about, or by worry over what others might think.
Some parents keep their loss private because that is what is right for them, and every mother and father deserves to honor their own way through. What breaks my heart is the silence that isn't chosen, the kind that comes from feeling there is no room to speak. No one should have to heal alone because of that.
That is why a white pumpkin matters. It is a small thing with a big impact: a symbol of support, of awareness, and of love, and a sign that this child is still part of the story.
This baby mattered. This baby was loved. This baby is remembered.
Ways to Take Part
You don't need to have experienced a loss yourself to share love and support for others facing loss. You may be honoring your own baby or showing up for someone you love. Here are some things you can do:
- Choose a white pumpkin. Set it on your porch, your mantel, or beside family photographs.
- Make it personal. Add a baby's name, a date, or a few words, if that feels right.
- Reach out. If someone close to you has lost a baby, say their baby's name. You don't need perfect words; knowing you remember means a great deal.
- Share the story. When someone asks about your white pumpkin, tell them what it means.
There is no right or wrong way to do this, and no need to do it publicly if you'd prefer not to. A private tradition is just as meaningful.
How EverGrace Is Giving
Remembrance is also why we give. With every bag of coffee you purchase, $1 goes to Twelve 12 Ministries, a Christ-centered nonprofit that walks alongside women and families through infertility, miscarriage, pregnancy loss, and childlessness not by choice. They offer care packages, support groups, and community for people who often grieve quietly. You can read more on our Giving Back page.
We're also offering a White Pumpkin Coffee Mug. While supplies last, $5 from each mug purchase goes to Twelve 12 Ministries.
And if this season is a tender one for you, Twelve 12 Ministries is a good place to find support, whether your loss was recent or many years ago.
Somewhere, a mother is grieving quietly and wondering if anyone remembers. If this letter speaks to you, post it or pass it along, and add your baby's name if you are remembering one. Your story may be the one that tells her she isn't alone. We all stand together in this, for each other.
Remembering is another way of loving. Sometimes all it takes is a little white pumpkin to remind us.
With love,
Carol
For Grace, and for every baby who is loved, remembered, and carried in a parent's heart. 🤍
Sources: Pregnancy After Loss Support · Be Like the Willow