The United Mothers of Loss Foundation (UMLF) is a heart-led, trauma-informed 501(c)(3) nonprofit dedicated to supporting families after miscarriage, stillbirth, infant loss, recurrent loss, and the loss of multiples. We exist because pregnancy and infant loss changes a family forever, and we believe every mother deserves support, understanding, and compassion.
UMLF was built from lived experience, not theory. Our programs were shaped by a mother who has walked through repeated loss, twin loss, medical trauma, and the complexity of parenting after grief. This allows us to support families with empathy and depth that only lived experience can bring.
We serve mothers, fathers, siblings, grandparents, and extended family members who are grieving, as well as hospitals and communities who want to improve the way they care for loss families. Our work includes emotional support, support groups, Cuddle Cot placements in hospitals, memorial opportunities, grief resources, and awareness efforts.
At our core, UMLF is about connection. We know that grief can feel isolating and misunderstood, so we create spaces and programs where mothers can share their stories, speak their baby’s name, and know for certain that they are not alone
Mission & Vision
We believe in compassion, connection, remembrance, integrity, and hope. Compassion guides the way we speak, respond, and show up for families. Connection reminds us that healing is easier when we don’t carry our grief alone. Remembrance ensures that every baby’s name and story is honored. Integrity and transparency are central to how we steward donations and represent our foundation. Hope is the quiet thread that reminds grieving families that light can still be found, even in the darkest places.
Our mission is to turn loss into light by providing compassionate support, memorial resources, community, and advocacy for grieving mothers and families. We are dedicated to honoring every baby’s life, no matter how brief, and to making sure every family has access to support during and after loss.
Our vision is a world where no grieving parent suffers in silence. We imagine hospitals fully equipped with tools like Cuddle Cots, communities that understand and acknowledge pregnancy and infant loss, and families who feel validated, supported, and empowered to honor their baby’s legacy.
We believe in compassion, connection, remembrance, integrity, and hope. Compassion guides the way we speak, respond, and show up for families. Connection reminds us that healing is easier when we don’t carry our grief alone. Remembrance ensures that every baby’s name and story is honored. Integrity and transparency are central to how we steward donations and represent our foundation. Hope is the quiet thread that reminds grieving families that light can still be found, even in the darkest places
Founder’s Story
My name is Diane Cassi, and I am the Founder and CEO of the United Mothers of Loss Foundation. Before there was a foundation, before there were support groups or Cuddle Cot placements, there was simply a mother whose heart had been broken more times than she thought possible.
My journey into loss began with very early pregnancies that ended before most people even knew I was expecting. Those tiny lives, though brief and unseen by the world, changed me forever. Each loss carried its own grief, its own due date that lived quietly in my mind. I carried the weight of those babies with me, even when life around me seemed to move on.
Then I experienced the loss of my baby Destiny. Her name alone reflects what she meant to me—she was destined to be part of my story, even if only for a short time.
Losing her shattered my heart in new ways, and I carried a deep ache that was hard for others to fully understand. Grief does not follow a set timeline, and it certainly doesn’t disappear just because people stop asking how you are.
Years passed, bringing more losses and reopened wounds. Each one reminded me of the fragility of hope. Eventually, I became pregnant with twins. Hearing the words, “There are two heartbeats” felt like a miracle. I imagined twin girls growing up together, sharing a room, clothes, secrets, and memories. We named them in our hearts: twin daughters, Adalynn Diane and Addisyn Grace.
At eleven weeks, our world shifted again. We lost Adalynn. I became a twin loss mom—carrying one baby in my womb and one in my heart. Grieving and celebrating at the same time is a kind of emotional whiplash that’s difficult to put into words. While I mourned the baby I’d lost, I also clung to hope for the baby I was still carrying.
My pregnancy with Addisyn was anything but easy. I developed hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe condition that goes far beyond normal morning sickness. I was unable to keep much down and lost about thirty-five pounds when I was supposed to be gaining weight. Eventually, my condition became so serious that I required hospitalization and a PICC line during my second trimester just to keep both of us alive.
Throughout this time, I was not only grieving Adalynn and my earlier babies, but I was also trying to be a present mother to my older children: Sarah, Justin, and Brittany—who, though not biologically mine, has always been my daughter in every way that matters. When my husband, Chris, and I talked about trying for another baby, we sat down with the kids to get their opinions. They supported the idea but were understandably worried about my health, having seen what I had already endured.
When it was finally time for Addisyn to be born, we learned that her umbilical cord had been wrapped tightly around her neck three times. For a terrifying moment, we almost lost her too. Time felt frozen until we finally heard that beautiful, life-giving cry. In that instant, relief, gratitude, joy, and grief all flooded my heart at once. I held my living daughter while my heart ached for the twin who should have been beside her.
From the beginning, I made a promise to never hide Adalynn’s existence from Addisyn. She has always known that she is a twin and that she has a sister in Heaven. As she has grown, she has asked questions about what Adalynn might have looked like, whether they would have shared the same features or the same sense of humor. We speak Adalynn’s name openly in our home, honoring her place in our family and letting love and grief coexist.
Out of all of this heartbreak grew a calling I could not ignore. I knew there were other mothers lying awake at night, scrolling their phones, feeling isolated in their grief and desperate for someone who truly understood. I became a grief coach because I wanted to use my lived experience and additional training to support loss families more intentionally. Little by little, my inbox began to fill with messages from mothers pouring out their stories, and I realized what a difference it made to simply hear, “I understand. I’ve lived this too.”
The United Mothers of Loss Foundation was born from that calling—to turn my pain and my babies’ legacies into something that could bring comfort, hope, and support to others. UMLF is more than an organization to me; it is a piece of my heart. It is how I continue to mother the babies I can’t hold, and how I honor the miracle of the one who survived.
My passion is to ensure that grieving mothers know they are not alone, that their babies mattered, and that their love is seen. Through support groups, Cuddle Cot placements, resources, and memorial spaces, I am committed to walking alongside others as we all keep turning loss into light, together.
Board Members
President
Vice President
I am a wife and stay-at-home mom of three with a heartfelt commitment to supporting mothers who have endured the unimaginable pain of losing a child. I offer a warm, compassionate ear and create a safe space where moms can share their feelings openly and find solace.
Having walked this path myself, I deeply understand their grief and am dedicated to being a comforting presence—reminding them that they are not alone on their journey. My hope is to foster connection, healing, and hope, even in the midst of sorrow.
Secretary
I was faced with the crushing blow of miscarriage not once, but twice. In the raw ache of those losses, I found a beacon of hope through a Pregnancy Loss, Stillbirth, and Miscarriage support Facebook group. What began as deep pain ignited a powerful flame of compassion within me. Today, my mission is to offer solace, understanding, and support to other mothers navigating this same heartbreaking path so no woman ever has to walk it alone.
Treasurer
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