Guest Post by Amy Watson

Pregnancy after loss is scary. There is no other way to say it. Fear becomes our constant companion, the whispers in the dark, the racing thoughts throughout the day, the unanswerable questions that fill us with doubt every step of the way.

Our Lauren’s heart stopped beating four days before she was due. She was born beautiful, perfect 7lbs 3 oz. with chubby cheeks and gorgeous dark hair. We were absolutely devastated. Just five months later we were pregnant again. I had wanted another baby so badly, not to replace her, but to fill the brand new empty crib I couldn’t bear to put away and some of the holes in our hearts. I stared down at the test, and waves of anxiety began to wash over me like I had never experienced before. I could barely breathe. As time went on it didn’t get better. The months in front of me seemed endless. I was paralyzed with fear on the inside. On the outside I tried to pull it together. We hid the pregnancy, not wanting to put our older children through another loss, afraid to tell anyone but our closest friends and family. I didn’t want to talk about it. I kept my head down and waded clumsily through the grief and the hope and the craziness of it all.

So what helped me make it through those dark days? Something that became a lifeline to me was sewing little tiny diapers. There is a project called Teeny Tears, which I had found indirectly after my loss. They donate to hospitals and other organizations all over the country and world. They became my new support group. I had slowly left all my other loss groups because I couldn’t deal with the pain anymore. What I found in Teeny Tears was hope. It was a way to channel my grief into doing something good. Each little set of diapers is sewn in memory of an angel. There is one for the baby to wear, and one for the family to keep. They fit babies 18-32 weeks who are too small for other diapers. I was excited to be able to have Lauren’s name go out into the world and touch someone else’s life. The thought of something I had made and held with my own hands ending up becoming a treasured keepsake for another family to hold was truly incredible.

I started slowly, gathering my supplies, reading the Facebook page and blog, hoping my less than amazing sewing skills would be good enough. I was encouraged by the other ladies and began to get to know them. There are hundreds of angel moms, grandmas and friends who volunteer in many ways to create these diapers. It takes a village, but they all do it for the same reason: to lift the others who unfortunately come behind us. They want to make sure each baby is treated the way he or she should be. They believe every little one deserves a covered, adorable bum. They pour into their work so much love, tears and empathy and that is a powerful thing. Some of these wonderful women are now great friends. Megan, the founder of Teeny Tears, is an inspiration and example of someone who has turned her loss and pain into true compassion and service.

Each step of the process kept my mind and hands busy. First, I got to pick out cute fabric I hoped the parents would love. Then I began tracing the pattern and cutting. I bent over the table feeling sick and scared, but soon I was focused simply on the task at hand. It was the first time since that exciting and terrifying positive test at 3am that I had been able to let go of the fear.

When I sat down at my sewing machine, I found the same thing happened. It took all my concentration to make these little diapers. My mind was so refreshingly quiet. When I completed the first ones, I realized how oh-so-tiny they really were.


I thought of the stories I had read, of distraught grandmothers going to toy stores looking for doll clothing, of babies presented in paper towels and other undignified ways, and I knew I could prevent some of that from happening. The work warmed my heart and calmed my soul in a way nothing else could. I called it Diaper Therapy.


Time went on and my belly continued to grow. I won’t say I handled it gracefully. I was an anxious mess going through the motions of life. Each day that went by was a relief, but considering my full term loss, the farther along we got I also became more scared. When it all was too much, I sewed. I worked for those other angel babies and got lost in service. Sitting at the sewing machine got increasingly uncomfortable, but there was a tangible release every time I did it. I could literally feel the pent up anxiety melt away. My husband, in his own quiet way, supported my new endeavor. He didn’t complain about the money spent on fabric and ribbon. He patiently listened to me talk about flannel. He watched our children when I told him I needed time to sew and put up with the kitchen table being covered in my supplies for days at a time. He could see how therapeutic it was for me.


I made a goal to sew hundreds of diapers for Lauren’s first birthday. I had wonderful support from family and friends to accomplish this task. We even made tiny angel hats at my baby shower which fell just days before that difficult day. I wanted to remember Lauren, and I was terrified to celebrate and plan for the new unguaranteed baby. Sewing helped me get through the whirlwind of emotions. Rainbow baby Calvin was born just 3 weeks later. I was finally able to breathe again, and he truly brought so much joy back to our family. The love we feel for him is richer because of all we went through.


No matter what challenges we are facing, we are blessed when we reach beyond ourselves to help others. There is something special that happens when we do. I encourage you courageous mommas to look for opportunities to bring joy or comfort to someone who needs it if you feel able. Keep walking forward, one step at a time. I have been there. I know how hard it is. You can do this. You are incredible.

To learn more about this project, please visit Teeny Tears.
This project was recently featured on local news, KUTV.

Amy Watson is a wife and mother. Her family is her world. She enjoys reading, painting walls, baking and hanging out at home with her favorite people. In March 2013 her daughter Lauren was born still at 39 weeks 3 days after an uneventful pregnancy. The cause was most likely a placental abruption. Her first boy, Calvin joined the family in April 2014 after a very difficult pregnancy. Amy’s faith in the tender mercies of a loving God, and the reality of a life after this where she will hold her baby again guides everything she does, and everything she is.

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