Ken & Tanya are Community Speakers at Hope After Loss Walk/5K; Oct 2024

KEN: My name is Ken Jacobi and this is my wife Tanya. Thank you to Hope After Loss for having us here today and allowing us to be this year’s Community Speakers. We are extremely honored to be given the opportunity. A little about what led us here. We lost our 2nd daughter Ryleigh Sienna in April of 2021 at 40 weeks plus. Until the moment we lost her, everything seemed fine with the pregnancy. Until it wasn’t…

This is our 4th walk. We have come to the walk every year since our loss. We remember our first walk back in 2021. The shock of the loss had started to wear off by October and in its place was just a rawness. But it was also the first time I got to meet some of the dads from the men’s support group that Hope After Loss hosts (at the time purely virtual). It was the first time I truly understood what the loss community meant.

We returned in 2022, and then again last year. By this point HOPE had returned. And in fact hope did become our Anchor. What a difference a year can make. This doesn’t mean the pain went away, but our 1 month old son at the time flailing about in the stroller meant we had made some type of comeback, even if not complete at that point. But this created a new challenge. Balancing the hurt of missing Ryleigh with the joy of seeing our living daughter Kinsley, 4 at the time, interact with people here we now consider to be our true friends. As I said, this is a community, and although there is an underlying hurt required for admittance, it is a close knit family that are here for each other. That can not be understated.

And so here we are this year. Again with hope. Again trying to balance loss with life.

As you can perhaps see, we are expecting another son in 2025 and with it comes the combination of sadness and fear, with hope and joy. Welcome to the confusing world of life after pregnancy and/or infant loss.

TANYA: The moment we heard the words “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat,”we became different people. At 40 weeks and 4 days, Ken and I were expecting to be bringing home another daughter; A sibling for Kinsley, but within a matter of seconds that world came crashing in. The journey of pregnancy is meant to be a time of joy and anticipation, a time filled with dreams about new beginnings. However, for many of us here today, that journey took an unexpected and devastating turn.

I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I was leaving the hospital without our daughter. The moment we came home, I was in this hazy fog. I didn’t know where to turn to and how to cope with my grief. Ken and I spent countless hours googling resources and trying to find ones that were going to help us. The very first person I was introduced to was Kim Nelly. We spoke for quite some time and she mentioned how she was part of an organization called Hope After Loss and how much it helped her throughout the years. I joined one of their support groups as soon as I could. After that first group, I finally felt like I wasn’t alone. That I wasn’t navigating this new life by myself. I connected and surrounded myself with people who just understood. 

Grief is a life long, ever changing journey. We quickly learned that losing Ryleigh was never going to get easier; it would just become different over the years. We surrounded ourselves within the Hope After Loss community- attending support groups, special events, connecting with individual parents and families. We also connected with many families around the country and built friendships. I think just like most who experience pregnancy and infant loss you never would imagine being a part of this loss club. It's always said, it's the worst group to be a part of, but the members are truly the best.

KEN: The days, weeks, and even months after our loss were surreal. There was an emptiness. I recall being on my first Men’s Support Group with Hope After Loss, not looking at the other members on my screen, but just staring at myself. It was as if I was watching someone else perform and I was just a spectator. It was that hard for me to accept and digest the loss. That it happened to me, to us. 

And of course once the shock wore off, the anger, resentment and pity all took turns popping up. For the first time in my life, something truly important did not work out. And it was very hard to deal with that. I didn’t feel hope. Hope didn’t seem achievable. And as I heard on the Hope After Loss podcast, I felt like my own life was ruined. It was all over and I planned to just run out the clock and do the best I could for my living daughter. For those of you still in this stage we want to say we get it, and that you may not believe me today but there is the possibility of some form of peace down the road. It isn't easy and it isn't perfect, but from experience there is a path, there is hope after loss. After all, that is why we're here.

And so of course the devastation we felt in 2021 is not the end of the story. There was also, there is also, a recovery of sorts that we got to experience. Hope and even joy did creep back into our lives. We laugh and smile. And we have hope of a better future. We dearly miss Ryleigh, and I know we will never be the people we were before our loss. But we try to take the positive from that. The appreciation for the time I have with Kinsley and Chase, our living children is true and consistent. Our approach in life is meant to capture more of it, a promise we made to Ryleigh as we held her lifeless body. And our work to honor Ryleigh is as strong as ever. That is why we are here today. That is why when I ran by her sign in the run today I said a small prayer and apologized with tears in my eyes that she couldn’t be here today. That I am still really, really sorry about what happened to her. About how unfair it was, but that her loss was not in total vain. That it made her parents better people. That allowed our now 2 year old son into the world and God willing in a few months their brother. 

And to ensure we honor her of course, we continue to be part of the Loss community. I am a moderator for the Men’s Support Group and HIGHLY encourage dad’s out there to join us. We have monthly zoom sessions and at least quarterly in person meet ups. It is a safe and welcoming place for dads to meet up and talk about our losses (and yes of course the baseball and NFL seasons!). If you are interested, there is more information on the HAL website. Our healing journey also includes our own nonprofit we started in honor of Ryleigh, called Ryleigh’s Resources which offer online resources and comfort boxes for loss families.

TANYA: This year’s walk theme is “Hope is our Anchor.” I’m sure there are many of us here today who felt or still feel as hope isn’t in reach. I think Ken and I could both agree that the first year that we lost Ryleigh we didn’t feel hope. Hope was this strange word we kept hearing when speaking with others within the loss community. We questioned, could we feel hope again? 

Hope After Loss has created a nurturing environment where parents and families can express their grief without judgment. As we know, there is no right way to grieve. Some may find solace in sharing their story, while others may need quiet reflection. As a community, Hope After Loss provides the love and space needed for healing.

At this very moment, look around to the families that are all gathered here this morning. All of us are a part of this community, sharing the importance of honoring the lives of our babies and children that were so briefly part of our world. Each loss is significant, each baby remembered, and every story validated. We are setting aside moments for remembrance, and honoring our little ones and the love that will forever remain in our hearts for them.

We leave you all with this definition of Hope- Hope is a feeling in your heart. It is the anchor of the soul. It can weather any storm. It will carry you through your darkest times and make you smile in your happiest. It’s what keeps you going no matter what. A feeling of trust. To believe. To desire. The only thing stronger than fear. It’s the compass you have when you are lost.