Our Mission: To support mothers who have lost an infant by gifting them with remembrance portrait albums and pendants, tangible items to honor their children. To support mothers who have lost an infant or pregnancy by offering a private online community where they can connect with others who understand their loss.
Our Work: We offer complimentary remembrance portrait albums and pendants to mothers who are suffering the loss of an infant. We also offer complimentary maternity/family portraits to families who have received a terminal diagnosis before the arrival of their baby. We believe these tangible gifts serve as an important step in the family's healing process by honoring their child's legacy. We offer a private online community where mothers who have lost an infant or pregnancy can share their stories and comfort others with the comfort they themselves have received.
Our History: In 2010, after my second miscarriage and subsequent surgery, my heart was broken into a million pieces. Not just over the loss of my son, but by the lingering feeling of "goneness". The only reminders of his existence were a stack of ultrasound photos on my dresser. During a shopping trip with my hubby I spotted an angel pendant and was instantly drawn to it. We purchased it and as soon as we walked out of the store my husband put it on me, that was the moment that healing began, the instant that "Angel Baby" was around my neck. All of a sudden, in a way that wouldn't make sense to anyone who had not walked this road, I felt more connected to the sweet baby boy I carried but never held. I was wearing a tangible item that my mind and heart had assigned to my son. Over the next year, I wore Angel Baby through losses 3, 4, and 5 and I was wearing him when I found out I was expecting my daughter. With the exception of the addition of a daily Lovenox injection to my life, I had a text book pregnancy and at 38 weeks, Oakley Jean Akins arrived safe and sound. Before leaving for the hospital for her delivery, I took Angel Baby off and tucked him into my jewelry box. Over the next few years I would see him there every time I opened that box, and would smile and think of my son. When Oakley was 8 months old, much to my surprise, I found out that I was expecting my youngest son, my living breathing Ephesians 3:20, my "exceedingly and abundantly MORE". After a much more difficult pregnancy filled with medications, hospital stays and ambulance rides at 34 weeks 5 days, Crosby Tyler Akins arrived to complete our family. About a year later, at a baby shower I was hosting for one of her co-workers, I met Kyla. She was just over 5 months pregnant with a baby girl, Charlie Grace. She was glowing and so very excited about the upcoming arrival of her daughter. I loved her instantly! One week later I was devastated to learn that sweet Charlie Grace had arrived a little to early and had gone straight to the arms of Jesus. The short life of Charlie Grace Kinstle left me forever changed, she reminded me again that even the most deserving Mommies don't always get their happy endings. Sometimes they only get moments to say goodbye. She left me determined to always be prepared to document these precious fleeting moments. My greatest fear was that Charlie's mother's broken heart was only going to be magnified by the silence she would surely face. Sometimes when we don't know what to say, we say nothing. So, I immediately reached out to her with phone calls, cards and notes. I talked to her about Charlie and wanted her to know that I was there. A few weeks later, I opened my jewelry box and as soon as my eyes fell on Angel Baby I thought of sweet Charlie Grace. I wrote Kyla a note explaining the necklace's history, wrapped Angel Baby up with that note and sent it to her, it was Charlie's necklace now. The road of infant and pregnancy loss is brutal and dark, so any rays of light are always appriciated. As much as a necklace can, Angel Baby helped Kyla's heart too and it was around her neck when I photographed her a year later when she announced her second pregnancy. It was with her when I shot her maternity photos and Charlie's little sister Gentry, wore it in her newborn portraits. One photo that represented both girls. When I saw Kyla's reaction to that photo it confirmed what I already knew. As mothers of children that were born angels, that no one got to meet, our greatest fear is that they will be forgotten. So if there is anything we can do to honor them, to memorialize them, we must! We remember... the babies born sleeping, those we carried but never held, those we held but could not take home, and those who came home but could not stay.