Founder of stillbirthday
“I insisted on making my own way through a system that doesn’t offer many choices.” “Mary Rose focused me, broke me open to love more . . . In our tiny fragment of time together, there was profound truth and mercy.” In Dianna’s Walking the Labyrinth of My Heart, the glaring hypocrisies and platitudes of society, religion and culture toward parenting, pregnancy, infant death and grief are all observed in such an honest and provocative way, that one does not merely read this book, but experiences it, and is left captivated, wounded, marveled for the treachery that is the bereaved parent’s sojourn. That we have established a universal and systematic sterilization of grief is pointedly called out, time and again, and evaluated through a raw candor and impossible wisdom. Such a writing is divinely inspired, a balm and real hope for any bereaved mother’s heart, and is quite frankly a necessary guidepost of observations and lessons for every member of society. We have been parched for such truth; we have been in danger without it. I am a bereaved mother, and if you consider yourself part of my village, my community, my society, I must ask that you read and heed the value of Dianna’s journey.