Yesterday at the end of Baby Loss Awareness Week, there was an international wave of light, where all over the world people light candles at 7pm local time to remember all the babies who have died. I didn’t light a candle. I didn’t light a candle because I was busy, I was looking after other pregnant women and their babies. It’s ironic somehow, but also it is a fitting tribute to Tilly. In amongst the cacophony of the maternity unit, you probably wouldn’t even think about what brought me here, you probably wouldn’t notice, maybe you wouldn’t even know. But that is why I came here, how I arrived here, and how I know that every single baby is precious. That if I look after someone who has lost a baby I know that they are feeling utterly devastated, in a place that they never imagined they would be. And although I can not tell them that I know, I know they will get through. It is part of our job to share with women in the joy, but also to care for women in the darkness. We have an amazing bereavement midwife on our unit, our women are well supported. When we left paediatric intensive without out baby, no professionals supported us, we had to find out own way. I had to tell a midwife and my GP that my baby had died. We are lucky, we have good friends and family, but some people are not so lucky, or they are isolated. We need to support these women and families, let them make memories, let them talk about their babies. Don’t be afraid to say their names. Let’s talk about baby and infant loss. Say their names. Tilly Grace Beaumont.