I held a newborn baby named Noah the other day. My friend gave birth to her Noah almost exactly one year after our baby Noah was expected to been born. In her third trimester, she came to me in tears to tell me what her son’s name would be. Thank you for telling me, I reassured her. It’s a great name, and one of the most popular in this generation.

Soon after our Noah went to Heaven, (you can read more of his story here), I wondered how I would feel around other babies. I am a “baby person.” I have loved babies since I became a big sister as a toddler. Then, as a teenager and adult I hold every baby I can because I love baby snuggles!

Many times, during our twelve years of trying to have our own children, seeing other babies has often triggered tears. I’m glad to say that once again, other people’s babies often bring me joy and warm my heart.

When I held my friend’s Noah for the first time, all 9 pounds of him, gazing at his face felt so sweet, and helped me realize that I was healing a year after my loss. My experience that day reminded me of the other babies I’ve held in this past year while grieving my own loss. I’ve been wanting to write about this for a while, so here I am.

After we learned that Noah had died in my womb just weeks before he was supposed to be born, my husband and I went to the hospital to give birth to him. Holding his still body in my arms is something I will never forget. My husband and I were able to cuddle our boy, knowing that his soul had already been thriving in Heaven with Jesus for several days.

Then, in the weeks following, seeing a newborn at a park or grocery store usually brought me to tears.

Even in my grief, I looked forward to one day holding a living, breathing, moving baby again. I wanted to make a new memory of holding a living newborn. Another dear friend was expecting a baby a few months after our Noah’s arrival. Throughout her pregnancy, she knew that I wanted to hold her newborn. We thought it might be a healing moment.

When her baby was just a few days old, she called and said, “Meet me outside!” I had just gotten out of the shower, my hair unbrushed and quickly pulled back when I went out to meet her. I held that tiny, breathing baby, and I smiled as I watched the movements of her tiny face. Those snuggles with a living newborn were just what I needed.

One of my emotional challenges in the wake of our stillbirth was being aware of babies born close to Noah’s due date. It still hits me to this day. Recently we met a toddler on a playground, and she ran around with our daughter. I realized that if Noah had lived, he could be running around on a playground with his sister. I imagine that for years and decades to come I will experience moments like that as we miss our son.

Throughout my pregnancy with Noah, I loved learning about my pregnancy buddies, the friends whose babies were due close to ours. I was saddened when several friends had miscarriages. And then we were all shocked when Noah died so late in the pregnancy. A due date buddy told me she felt paralyzed with grief for me. I know that my loss was hard on those friends.

Several friends gave birth to baby boys within a few weeks of when Noah would have been born. I see their photos pop up on social media and remember my own child.

One baby I felt anxious about meeting was a cousin’s baby boy, born the same week Noah would have been born. While traveling I realized we’d be near her hometown, so I coordinated a meet-up. Overall, I felt peace about meeting this little guy – but knowing that we were related, and my baby might have looked a little bit like this at six months old? That was hard.

I greeted my sweet cousin and her baby. I held him briefly. We were gathered with other family members, so I enjoyed watching my mom hold him. But the most surprising reaction was from my daughter.

She didn’t know that this baby was the same age as her brother would have been. But she ADORED this baby boy. She loved seeing him, talking to him, touching him, helping to feed him a bottle. She enjoyed the hour we spent together, then she talked about him for weeks and weeks following that visit. Months later, she still remembers that baby.

I can see that other babies are bringing healing her heart as well. These days we have several friends with babies, and they allow my daughter to touch and play with and snuggle their tiny babies. She loves it! We miss our Noah, and we grieve because we don’t have a baby. But we are finding joy in other people’s babies.

Often we must face our fears and anxieties as we pursue healing. I knew how much I loved other babies before my own baby died. I know how hard it was to have the memory of holding my lifeless baby. (The memory is still there, it’s just not as fresh or painful.) Snuggling other babies has slowly contributed to my healing.

Yes, I still feel triggered at times. Yes, grief hits in unexpected ways. Yes, I’m still grieving. But at the same time, I want to continue living this abundant life, and one way to do that is by loving some of the tiniest, sweetest people around me: other people’s babies.

If you’d like to see them, below are some snapshots of the sweet moments described above:

Meeting another baby Noah.

First baby snuggles months after our loss.

My daughter meeting our cousin’s baby.