Colorado Gov. Jared Polis recently signed a proclamation declaring September 19 Stillbirth Awareness and Prevention Day in the state. As a mother who lost a child to stillbirth, I have waited more than eight years for a public official in my state to acknowledge this risk and talk about it openly.
In 2018, I was pregnant with our first child. Because I was over 35, my pregnancy was considered high-risk, but everything seemed healthy. During my prenatal visits, my doctor discussed various risks and precautions, such as avoiding cat litter to prevent toxoplasmosis. Yet, no one brought up the risk of stillbirth.
The day after Mother’s Day, on May 14, 2018, my son Lucas was stillborn at 39 weeks. Along with my grief, I was shocked that stillbirth, which I thought was a thing of the past, could still happen today. Every year in the United States, about 21,000 pregnancies end in stillbirth. That is about 65 babies a day — enough to fill a school bus — and almost as many as the number of infants who die in their first year. In Colorado, nearly 340 families go through this each year.
At first, I believed I was one of the few mothers who had not been warned about this risk. But after speaking with other mothers who experienced stillbirth, I realized my story was far more common than I thought.
At my local support group, Jenny shared that during her pregnancy with Isabella, who was stillborn at 37 weeks in 2017, no one ever mentioned the word “stillbirth” to her. Emily, whose son Tadhg was stillborn at 39 weeks in 2019, said her doctors talked about the risk of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS), which is about 0.5 deaths per 1,000 live births, but not stillbirth, which is several times more common.
Health care providers often avoid talking about stillbirth risk, possibly because they believe it is rare (one in 175 births) or worry that mentioning it will scare expectant mothers. But a 2020 Australian study found that most women said they would not become overly anxious if told about the risk. On the other hand, silence on the subject often leads to shock and self-blame. After Lucas died, I kept wondering what I had missed.
Not every stillbirth can be prevented, but research shows that 25 percent of all stillbirths, and up to 47 percent of those at term, may be avoided with known steps. These include treating maternal conditions, monitoring fetal growth and movement, timing delivery when the risk is high, and investigating every death so the next family is not left without answers.
Other countries have already addressed stillbirth as a public health issue. The United Kingdom and Australia reduced rates through awareness campaigns, better data, and perinatal audits. In Iowa, a statewide effort to teach kick counting through a free app, started by five mothers who had lost babies, led to a nearly 32 percent drop in the stillbirth rate between 2008 and 2018, while the national rate stayed about the same.
These examples show that awareness is the first step to reducing preventable stillbirths. In 2022, the U.S. Congress designated September 19 as National Stillbirth Awareness and Prevention Day and increased federal support through the 2024 Maternal and Child Health Stillbirth Prevention Act. Yet, many people, even those in stillbirth communities, still do not know about this day. It is hard to push for change without broad awareness.
About a month ago, I contacted the Colorado governor’s office and asked for a proclamation to make September 19 Stillbirth Awareness and Prevention Day in Colorado. I did not expect to hear back from Polis because Colorado is a heavily Democratic state where late-term abortion is legal. My earlier attempt to get a one-time tax credit for families who experienced stillbirth was blocked by pro-choice groups who worried that showing compassion for stillbirth might weaken support for abortion.
That is why I was so grateful when Polis’ office approved my request to raise awareness and issue the first-ever proclamation on stillbirth. Polis deserves credit for putting aside politics to recognize the pain and loss caused by stillbirth.
Alongside the proclamation request, I am producing a documentary, The Due Time, to call attention to stillbirth and prevention. The project began on September 19, 2025, the fourth National Stillbirth Awareness Day. Since then, we have interviewed approximately 20 parents from California, Colorado, Iowa, and Minnesota, as well as advocates and clinicians from across the country.
Our interviewees came from all walks of life, yet they conveyed similar messages. Parents who have lost a child want their birth experiences acknowledged and their children’s lives honored, regardless of how brief those lives were.
All interviewees agreed that prevention begins with awareness. Open discussion is essential. Health care providers should inform pregnant women about stillbirth risk, its frequency, key warning signs, and ways to reduce risk. Knowledge empowers families; silence does not.
The legacy of our stillborn children should be more than a series of tragic statistics. It should inspire change so fewer families endure this pain.
