I dropped a card for my sister in the mail last week. Yes, a good old fashioned card, with a stamp and everything. It seems such a little thing, but I sent it because I wanted her to know that I was thinking about her.

Before I sent it I wrote across the seal: “open Oct. 15.”

See, Saturday, Oct. 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

It’s a day recognized by my family each year. It’s a chance for us to honor the memory of my niece —my sister and brother-in-law’s firstborn — to remember the moments of joy her too short existence brought us and to recognize the loss and grief that they have endured.

I know I’ll never forget the day I opened my mailbox and found an envelope addressed to “Auntie” or the shock and sadness that reverberated through our family when we found out Sierra Mae’s heart had stopped beating.

In 2006 the 109th Congress officially recognized the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and made it a national day of remembrance and a chance to support those who lost a child whether it be as an early pregnancy loss, an infant loss, or a time in between. In 1988 Ronald Reagan proclaimed October to be Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.

“When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan,” Reagan said. “When a spouse loses her or his partner they are called a widow or widower. When parents lost their child, there isn’t a word to describe them. This month recognizes the loss os many parents experience across the United States and around the world. It is also meant to inform and provide resources for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirths, birth defects, SIDS, and other causes.”

Pregnancy and Infant loss is an all too common tale. Estimates are that approximately 1 million such losses occur each year.

It’s a topic that people really don’t like to talk about, and who can blame them — it is a hard thing to talk about, after all.

In my experience it seems like most people know somebody who has been there. In the aftermath of losing Sierra that June I was surprised by how many people I knew had similar stories in their families or circles of friends.

Next Tuesday my sister will arrange pink roses in a vase and she’ll go drop off the teddy bears we made last summer at her local labor and delivery unit for moms who lose a baby. I’ll light a candle in honor of my niece and my oldest sister as part of the wave of light and I’ll pause to remember.