Babyloss Therapeutic Support Group

If you live in the area and would like some extra support with your experience of babyloss, join me for this group hosted through the Grief Support Network in Boulder, Colorado.

Have you experienced a pregnancy, stillbirth or newborn loss?  If so, do you feel a lack of support?  Overwhelmed?  Have you noticed you and your partner grieve differently?  While all of these feelings are a common part of the grief process, many babyloss parents do not receive the support they need to normalize the intense grief experience of the death of one’s baby.

This six week group will provide a therapeutic space for you to share about your loss with other babyloss parents while providing support and education for your grief journey.  In community with others we often find healing that is not possible alone.  This group will help you to find your voice to advocate for your needs, while remembering and honoring the life of your baby. 

  • Wednesdays, 6:00-8:00PM
  • May 6th – June 10th (6 sessions)
  • Fee – $210 per person, or $400 per couple (If you would prefer to pay via check, please contact:

About the Facilitator: Shelly King

Shelly King, MA, LPC is a psychotherapist in private practice in Louisville.  She specializes in working with women and couples who have experienced babyloss (miscarriage, termination, stillbirth and/or newborn loss).  She also works with couples experiencing other relationship issues.  As a psychotherapist, babyloss mama and mom to a living child, Shelly brings her professional expertise and personal experience to her work.



Fate.  Destiny.  Everything happens for a reason.  It’s a part of God’s plan.  It was meant to be.  When one door closes another one opens.  Have you heard these lines?  I would guess you have.  And we have probably even said one to ourselves and/or to someone we know.  I used to believe in some version of these half-truths.  And I still do.  And I don’t.  Because let’s be honest.  Bad things happen.  Bad things happen to good people.  Bad things happen to bad people.  It doesn’t really matter, we all deal with loss, disappointment, a change in plans…  What’s the saying, change is the only thing you can count on?  And well, after the death of one’s baby, for the vast majority of us, our world changes, and so do we.  I am not the same woman I was before my loss.

When I was younger, and before Life happened to me, I believed things happened for a reason.  I lived a fairly charmed naive life, at least when it came to loss.  Before the death of my daughter, I had never lost anyone significantly close to me.  I didn’t know how a hole could be ripped open in one’s heart, soul and life after a loved one dies.  Now I know.  Now I get it.  I have been on a path I never anticipated, never planned, would never wish on anyone.  And I get it, that’s true for so many of us, in so many ways.  Loss is not unique or special to me.  And I know this intimately when I sit with another babyloss parent.  When life as they know it has been torn to shreds.

It is in these painful moments that many of us look for meaning.  None of us really know how to make sense of these painful moments, but we want to.  Because if we could KNOW WHY, well, then what?  We could understand what happened?  Accept what happened?  Prevent it from happening it again?  Somehow control it?  Ahhh…control.  That’s a biggie.  But if we can’t control  it, at least it still happened for a reason.  Right?!  At least there’s a silver lining to every dark cloud…right??

Personally, I don’t believe everything happens for a reason.  There is no reason good enough that my daughter died.  It.just.didn’  And yet.  And yet I make meaning out of it.  I was a psychotherapist before my loss.  I worked in the field of sexual health and I was passionate about pregnancy, birth and parenting.  I’m still a psychotherapist after my loss.  And now I’m a psychotherapist that specializes in working with women and couples who have experienced babyloss.  I have taken my professional skills and personal experience to redefine my work.  Truly, I love what I do.  I’ll say that again and again.  It is an honor.  It is sacred space to witness another parent’s profound loss, to get to know about their baby, their pregnancy…these details that so few get to know.  I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my daughter.  She is a gift.

So.  Does it make sense to me?  No.  Did it happen for a reason?  No.  Yet it happened.  It is up to me to work with my loss, and to find meaning and connection in my life after loss.

How do you make meaning out of your loss, if at all?  Do you believe everything happens for a reason?


man in mountains with sun