Arlo Keepsakes, Perth (2025)

03/12/2025

I have just a couple of my big memory cases left — the very last ones before I close this chapter for good.
I’ve loved these cases so much. Mine will always live in my lounge room. They’ve held so many stories, so many tiny treasures, and they were the beginning of everything for Arlo Keepsakes. But as much as I adore them, my heart has been pulled somewhere deeper… into pottery, into creation, into making urns here in Australia that honour our babies in the most tender, beautiful way.
So this is your last chance to bring one of these memory cases home.
I also have a few heavily discounted bags that will come without a name tag. I can’t colour-match the tags anymore, but there are so many beautiful ones on Etsy if you’d like to add your own.
Thank you for loving these early pieces with me.
A new chapter is beginning — one made slowly, gently, with clay and heart.
Check the website if you’d like one of the final pieces.

04/11/2025

✨ Perth parents ✨

I’m looking to connect with a few families here in Perth who’ve had a recent loss and chosen cremation for their baby. 💛

I’m finishing up the next stage of our baby urn range, and I’d love to sit down over coffee in Fremantle (during school hours) and just chat about what feels right… what doesn’t… and what would truly help in those early, tender days.

No pressure. No formality. Just a heart-led conversation — parent to parent.

As a thank you for your time and honesty, I’ll gift you one of our Forever Loved Memory Boxes to keep.

If this feels like something you could do — or if you know someone it might help — please share or send me a DM.

I’ll send through a Calendly link so we can find a time that works.

I’m hoping to chat with around 10 families, and both mum and dad are welcome.
Your voice will help shape something truly meaningful for other families walking this same path. 🌙

12/05/2025

Head on outside tonight, it is the Flower Full Moon?

It’s one of those nights where the sky just feels... different. Brighter. Like it’s holding space for all the things we carry.

If you’re up for it, take a moment, and just look up.
There’s something about the moon that feels like a hug — like someone out there knows what’s in your heart.

And if you feel like it, maybe whisper your baby’s name.
Tell them what you wish you could say. Or just sit there and let that light wrap around you.

Because love doesn’t just vanish. It lingers in the moonlight, in the stars, in the quiet moments when the world slows down enough for you to feel them close. 🌙✨

🌕✨
🌙
💛
🤍
💔
🌠
💫
🌟
🕊️
🌜
💞
🌷
💛

12/05/2025

Hey Mama, can I tell you something? I remember those nights when it felt like life would never be the same again. Like the world kept moving while my heart was stuck in the moment it all changed.

But then, little things started happening. A feather appeared on my windowsill. A familiar song played on the radio. And I’d feel this warmth in my chest that wasn’t there before. It was like my baby was reaching through the quiet moments, saying, “I’m still here, Mama. You’re not alone.”

I know it’s hard to believe right now, but those signs — those gentle, loving whispers, they’re real. Your baby is still so close, wrapping you in love, holding your hand through this.

And as you keep moving forward, you’ll start to feel it. Bit by bit, that quiet, unwavering bond with your baby. And as joy softly returns, you’ll see they’ve been right there with you, all along. 💛🌿

07/03/2025

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Before she even spoke, I knew. She was having a baby. She had the most Devine baby bump.

She looked at me gently, choosing her words with care. She even apologised—not for her joy, but for not knowing how to tell me. Six years on since I lost Arlo but only 1 year of knowing me, she still held space for my grief, for the love I carry for Arlo, for the journey that shaped me.

But today, my heart is full. I am overjoyed for her.

We spoke for hours—about her fears, about Arlo, about how I survived pregnancy after loss and how she would too. I shared with her what I once needed to hear: that fear and joy can coexist, that grief and hope can walk hand in hand. That she is not alone.

I share this because there was a time when news like this would have felt bittersweet. A version of me would have been happy for her, but sad for me. But now? Now I am at peace. Growing my family is a chapter that has closed, and I do not wish to reopen it.

Life moves, grief evolves, love remains. And today, I celebrate her. I celebrate the gentle way she carried my heart in her hands as she shared her news. And I celebrate the woman I have become—one who can hold another’s joy without it echoing as loss.

To anyone still navigating these tender spaces, be kind to yourself. There is no wrong way to feel. In time, you will might find peace too.

07/03/2025

A dear friend I met through loss invited me for coffee. She had something to share—something too important to text. Before she even spoke, I knew. She was having a baby. She already has the most Devine baby bump.

She looked at me gently, choosing her words with care. She even apologised—not for her joy, but for not knowing how to tell me. Six years on, she still held space for my grief, for the love I carry for Arlo, for the journey that shaped me.

But today, my heart is full. I am overjoyed for her.

We spoke for hours—about her fears, about Arlo, about how I survived pregnancy after loss and how she would too. I shared with her what I once needed to hear: that fear and joy can coexist, that grief and hope can walk hand in hand. That she is not alone.

I share this because there was a time when news like this would have felt bittersweet. A version of me would have been happy for her, but sad for me. But now? Now I am at peace. Growing my family is a chapter that has closed, and I do not wish to reopen it.

Life moves, grief evolves, love remains. And today, I celebrate her. I celebrate the gentle way she carried my heart in her hands as she shared her news. And I celebrate the woman I have become—one who can hold another’s joy without it echoing as loss.

To anyone still navigating these tender spaces, be kind to yourself. There is no wrong way to feel. In time, you will find your peace too.

05/08/2024

When I first returned to school after losing Arlo at 38 weeks, I was met with a sea of downcast eyes, mothers glancing at their feet or turning their back to me. The silence and avoidance felt like an additional weight on my already heavy heart, fuelling a deep sense of anger and hurt.

Now, I see that their avoidance likely stemmed from their own discomfort and inability to face the rawness of my loss. If they could reflect on those moments with regret, I imagine they might wish they had looked up, offered a kind word, or shared a moment of connection.

It’s never too late to make amends. The question is, will you?

Let’s strive to be there for each other in tough times. A simple gesture or a kind word can make a huge difference. 💖

10/01/2024

He looked up bright eyed with excitement and said “I know where we are Nan” This is where Aunty had her baby.

As he skipped down the hallway, he couldn't contain his excitement. His small sneakers echoed against the polished floor, and a wide grin stretched across his face. Little did he know, the world he was about to enter was a place of profound sorrow and unexpected loss.

In that tender moment, his innocence and joy clashed with the harsh reality of a heartbreaking truth he was yet to discover.

💔👦

31/10/2023

You asked for it!!

Afterpay is here! Next time you shop with us, just choose Afterpay when you checkout so you can pay it in 4 interest-free instalments.* 🎆

05/10/2023

You see, being a loss Mum is an indescribable pain. It's like carrying an invisible weight that no one else can see. And sometimes, to protect ourselves and those around us, we put on a brave face. We smile, we laugh, we pretend everything is okay, even when it's not.

But that doesn't mean we're not hurting. It doesn't mean we've forgotten our precious babies or the dreams we had for them. Behind our smiles are tears we've cried in private, and the ache that never truly goes away.

I share this for understanding. To let other loss parents know that they're not alone. We're all part of a silent bond, bound by the love we have for our babies and the pain we carry in our hearts.

So, if you ever see me or another loss Mum smiling through the tears, please remember that it's okay to ask how we're really doing. Sometimes, all we need is someone who cares enough to listen.

04/10/2023

Are you searching for a meaningful gift for someone who has experienced the deeply painful loss of a pregnancy or a baby💔

Our Keepsakes offer a heartfelt answer. Unlike flowers that quickly wither, Our Keepsakes endure for a lifetime. They offer a warm and comforting space for families to cherish their baby's memory, a place to navigate their grief, a place to connect with their baby✨, and a place to acknowledge that their baby was a precious part of their lives🤍.

03/10/2023

During my first year, my daily mantra was, "I can't survive this." It echoed in my mind, a testament to the overwhelming pain and grief I carried. It was a mantra that defined the very core of my existence.

As I walked through the journey of loss and encountered other mothers who shared this profound pain. I would ask them the same question, "How do I survive this?" I never received an answer, but I did receive a connection that comes from understanding that some things can't be put into words.

There is no definitive answer to that question. Grief doesn't work that way. Instead, I've discovered that surviving this loss means finding different ways to connect with my babies. Sometimes with a smile, when I feel their presence and sometimes with a tear, as I mourn the moments we'll never share.

Four years have passed, and while the pain has not disappeared, it has transformed. It has become a part of who I am, a part of my story. I've found a place for my babies to exist with me – not just in my memories but in my everyday life. I celebrate their existence with every breath I take and every decision I make.

Surviving this journey doesn't mean the pain is gone, but it means I've learn't to carry it. I've discovered a way to keep my babies close, not just in my heart but in my life. I've found a way to honour their memory, to smile through the tears, and to connect with others who understand this pain.

To all the loss parents out there, know that you are not alone. You are surviving, and in your journey, you'll find a place for your baby to exist with you. And as you do, you'll discover the incredible strength within you that allows you to keep moving forward, one step at a time. 💕👼

Arlo Keepsakes

03/12/2025

04/11/2025

12/05/2025

12/05/2025

07/03/2025

07/03/2025

05/08/2024

10/01/2024

31/10/2023

05/10/2023

04/10/2023

03/10/2023

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