About Becoln
Becoln provides specialized support for families navigating miscarriage, infant and child loss, birth trauma, premature birth and NICU stays, medical parenting, and infertility. These experiences are heartbreakingly common:
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1 in 4 pregnancies ends in loss
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Nearly 2 million babies are stillborn each year
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2.3 million babies die within the first 28 days of life
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1 in 10 babies are born prematurely—complications from preterm birth are a leading cause of death in children under five
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1 in 6 families experience infertility
And yet, despite these staggering numbers, silence often surrounds these stories—leaving families feeling isolated, unseen, and searching for connection.
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Becoln was created to change that. Inspired by lived experience, we offer compassionate care, personalized support, and practical resources to help families feel held, heard, and never alone.
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We also support healthcare providers and perinatal professionals through consulting, training, and coaching—helping them provide more trauma-informed, empathetic care to the families they serve.
Hi, I’m Kieran. I’m a certified Grief & Trauma Coach and a healthcare professional with over a decade of experience. But more than that, I’m a mom of three beautiful boys—two I hold in my arms, and one I carry in my heart. My life and work have been profoundly shaped by a personal journey through grief, loss, trauma, and resilience on the path to parenthood.
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Ten years ago, newly married and full of big plans, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. After undergoing treatment with the goal of curing my cancer and preserving my fertility, I went into remission, and my heart set on becoming a mom. A few months later, I got pregnant—only to have my naïve “yay, I’m pregnant!” bubble burst when we found out it was ectopic. Cue emergency surgery, the loss of a fallopian tube, months of fertility treatments, and eventually, IVF.
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Beckett, my first son, was born prematurely and passed away in my arms after a short but fierce fight.
Lincoln was born less than a year later at just 22 weeks. He spent almost five months in the NICU.
Remy joined our family with the help of the most incredible human ever—our surrogate.
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Through it all, I’ve learned how isolating and complex these journeys can be. Despite how common these experiences are, they’re rarely talked about. Families like mine are often left grieving in silence, searching for similar stories and a place to feel seen. That’s why I created Becoln—a blend of “Beckett” and “Lincoln” (and yes, like the typical youngest sibling, Remy got left out)—to be a beacon of light in the dark. A place for real support, deep care, and community rooted in lived experience.
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Life hasn’t always been gentle or easy, but I’ve learned how to keep going, even in the hardest moments. The love and pride I feel as Beckett, Lincoln, and Remy’s mom will never be eclipsed by the darkness. They are, forever, my beacons of light.
Hi, I'm Kieran
Beckett's Story
My pregnancy with Beckett was complicated, terrifying, and wonderful. As a cervical cancer survivor, I was considered high-risk and carried heavy anxiety navigating pregnancy after loss. Still, we made it to the "safe" 12-week mark, and every two weeks, I watched him kick away on the ultrasound. For a while, I let myself hope.
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At 22 weeks, my water broke. I was put on bedrest, praying to stay pregnant for weeks—maybe even months. But after a series of complications, Beckett was born at 23 weeks and 5 days. He weighed one pound, two ounces. Impossibly small. Impossibly perfect.
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Beckett died in our arms, surrounded by love. We had several sacred hours together—soaking in every inch of our boy. Those hours held a lifetime’s worth of love… and a lifetime’s worth of heartbreak.
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His life and death changed me at my core. There’s a darkness in me now that wasn’t there before—one that often shows up as dark humour. And there’s also a light that hadn’t existed until him. The grief and the love coexist. And that’s okay.
Lincoln was born at 22 weeks and 5 days, weighing one pound, three ounces. He was given less than a 20% chance of survival. Even just a year earlier, many hospitals wouldn’t have tried to save him—and many still don’t consider babies born this early "viable."
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He spent 141 days in two NICUs, battling sepsis, meningitis, kidney infections, a brain bleed, and three codes. He needed breathing support for 127 days and a feeding tube for 136. He came home with chronic lung disease, a fragile immune system, and a lot of uncertainty.
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Today, Lincoln is thriving. At seven years old, he continues to beat the odds and blow past every expectation. He is determined, kind, curious, and hilariously funny.
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He brought light back into my life when it was at its darkest. After Beckett died, I didn’t know how to live a life without him. Lincoln showed me the way.
Lincoln's Story
Remy's Story
After two preterm births, my partner and I turned to surrogacy to grow our family. It came with its own hurdles—clinic closures during COVID, matches falling through, a miscarriage, and a failed embryo transfer. But in the end, we welcomed littlest bro, Remy, born full-term with the help of the most incredible surrogate—who, along with her family, is now part of ours.
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At seven pounds, Remy felt enormous to me! And I swear he hasn't stopped growing—or moving—since. He is fearless, joyful, sweet, and a whirlwind of energy. Our little ray of sunshine.