It’s Never Too Late for Naming Angel Babies

Sarah.

I held that name privately for years before I ever said it out loud. I knew she was a girl because of the genetic testing after my missed miscarriage in 2014. I knew her name too, the one I’d always wanted for myself as a middle name, the one I’d quietly given her the moment I found out. But I didn’t speak it to anyone. Not to Brian. Not to my therapist.

It wasn’t until I attended a bereavement doula training years later, sitting in a memorial ceremony with other loss parents, where everyone was naming angel babies, that I finally said her name out loud for the first time.

Sarah.

The same happened with Atrayu. My first pregnancy, in 2000, ended in a termination. I carried that in silence for years, wrapped in shame and guilt. Naming that baby had genuinely never crossed my mind until that same training, when someone invited me to consider that every loss deserved a name if I wanted to give one.

I share all of this in the video below.

If you found this helpful, please subscribe on YouTube.

I tell you these stories because I want you to know something: there is no expiry date on naming your babies.

You don’t have to name them in the hospital. You don’t have to name them in the weeks after. You can name them a year later, five years later, in a training room in your forties surrounded by strangers, quietly, with a candle in front of you.

The moment doesn’t close.

Why naming angel babies helps

What naming did, practically, was give me language. A way to refer to them that wasn’t clinical or vague. Before they had names, I’d say “one of my losses” or “a pregnancy in 2012.” After, I could say October. Bryce. Sarah. Those words carry weight in a way that “my fifth pregnancy” never could.

My living children, Kyle and Ayla, know their siblings by name. Ayla has asked me more than once to tell her about the babies who didn’t make it. Every 15 October for the Wave of Light, we light 6 candles and say each name out loud. Atrayu. October. February. May. Sarah. Bryce. That ritual exists because the names exist.

How to go about naming angel babies

Some of my babies I named for the months I lost them, October, February, May, because that was what felt right for 3 losses that happened so fast and so early that I barely had time to catch my breath between them. Simple, clear, a way of saying: I remember when.

Bryce I named years after his death too, weeks after we lost him, once we knew he was a boy. The name had been on our list for Kyle. Brian had vetoed it (too many B. Johnsons in the house). Since Bryce would never live in our house, it felt right to use it.

There’s no formula. There’s just what feels true for you.

If you’ve been sitting with a name, or wondering if it’s still okay to give one, it is. You can do it today. You can do it alone, in your kitchen, with a candle. You can write the name down and never show it to anyone. You can say it out loud for the first time to a room full of people who understand.

However you do it, whenever you do it, it counts.

If you’d like some gentle prompts to help you find your words around your loss, my free journaling guide is a good place to start.

And if you want to read the full story of all 6 of my babies, including the chapter on naming and ritual, All of These Lines is available here.