You never know just how many resources there are or how much information there is out there for bereaved parents until you become one. It’s like this silent community materializes out of the ashes of the life you thought you’d have. It’s hard trying to navigate it all when you’re feeling crushed by grief. It’s hard to stay afloat.
I created Amos’ Anchors to be a place where grieving parents and their families and friends can come to find resources to hold fast to during their storm of grief: to find their anchor.
I pray that you will find a resource that brings you the kind of support, healing, and hope you need right now, and I’m so, so sorry for your loss and that this resource has needed to materialize for you.
My name is Kristen Biehl. I’ve been pregnant 8 times, and I have three living children. I began my journey into motherhood with the birth of my first son, Lucas, in 2013. After struggling with secondary infertility and two very early losses, we conceived our second son, Everett, in 2015 via IUI and he was born safely in 2016 after a very stressful pregnancy. The summer after he was born, I had another early loss, and that winter miraculously conceived naturally with another rainbow baby.
May 4, 2018, our third son, Amos Atlee, was delivered from my body via D & E at 18 weeks gestation. We chose his name because Amos means “brave, strong, carried.” Atlee means “refuge”. Amos had passed away three weeks prior, unbeknownst to me, in what is called a missed miscarriage. His body was so fragile they had to take him in pieces. For this reason, I never got the chance to hold him or see him, which was heartbreaking. Thankfully, the bereavement coordinator and nurses on staff were still able to get hand and foot prints for me. I treasure them more than anything else I have for him. They remind me often that he was real. Three months after Amos’ death, I had another early miscarriage. Without answers or reasons for our losses, we continued on our path of trying to grow our family, bracing ourselves for what may be next, trying to be hopeful after such a difficult journey.
We successfully conceived in July 2019, and we met our daughter, earth-side, safely just after lockdown began for the COVID-19 pandemic on April 6, 2020. We named her Juniper Lee; Juniper means “lively and fresh” and Lee means “sheltered”. We chose her middle name in honor of her brother, Amos Atlee, whom we know helps to protect/shelter her from the other side of the veil.
You can read more about my journey through secondary infertility and my experiences with loss and grief on my personal blog: Mommy Sincerest and can also follow me on Instagram @MommySincerest and on Facebook.
After the death of our son, Amos, I came home from the hospital with a small folder of papers that gave little help or guidance or comfort. I wanted to improve the paperwork sent home for mothers sent home with empty arms and an empty womb. And I wanted to do more than that; I wanted to create something lasting and further reaching. With my background in social media management and in research and writing, I knew that a comprehensive website would be how I could provide such a resource for those families. Thus, my work began on Amos’ Anchors.
This is a continuous project. Bereavement coordinators change often, as not only is it a heavy job, but healthcare workers tend to have a lot of internal movement within their employment. As their jobs shift, so do their titles. There are also new resources being born of other’s grief every year. I do my best to keep the information up to date, but if you know of any changes or additions, please be sure to email me using the contact us form in the website and let me know.