News from the Room
Their Energy Still Matters
“I find comfort in Newtons laws. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. The atoms in the air that moved from her smile, her hand moving to grab yours, her breath, will forever exist. She is always around you.”
Someone wrote this comment in a post about grief earlier this week and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
It’s been six years since Billie. We never got to see her smile or feel her hand grab ours. She never took a breath. But she was here. We felt her move. She kicked when we talked to her. She shifted when music played. She was alive inside that small space, responding, growing, becoming.
And then, she was gone.
There’s something about that comment that’s been sitting with me. If energy can’t be destroyed, then maybe those movements we felt, the way she stirred when we spoke, her energy, maybe they’re still out there, somewhere.
People often talk about grief like it’s something you get over. Like there’s a finish line. But I’ve never really felt that way. Billie’s gone, but she’s not gone. Not entirely. She’s still part of how I think, how I speak, how I move through the world. Especially through Room Eleven, the work we do, the parents we meet, the stories we hear.
That hospital room was the last place we held her. But it was also the starting point for something else. A way to make meaning. A way to keep moving forward with her, not without her.
I don’t know if atoms really carry memory, and I’m not religious so I’m also not seeing this through a spiritual lens. But I like the idea that the energy we felt, and those moments of connection before she was born didn’t just vanish. That they’re still shifting around us in ways we can’t always see or comprehend.
It brings a sense of comfort. Don’t you think?
The 411
This Week at Room Eleven
Livestream Update
I had a quick but productive check-in with the livestream team to start shaping how November’s Scooting for Hope weekend will unfold. It’s all starting to take form — more on that soon.
We also launched something new:
Sponsor a Kilometre. Power the Ride. Fund Real Change.
We’ve just launched a new way to get behind Scooting for Hope — and it’s perfect for people and businesses who want to be part of the record-breaking ride, without, you know, riding 270 km on a scooter.
We’re inviting 135–270 individuals and businesses to sponsor 1 or 2 kilometres of this world record attempt.
1 km = $150
Includes a certificate of appreciation, your name on our sponsor wall and official tracker, plus an invite to the private event at Calder Park.2 km (1+ lap) = $250
Everything above — plus a feature in the livestream, event materials, and across our socials.
This isn’t just a donation. It’s a purpose-driven partnership.
Support helps cover the infrastructure and broadcast costs, so every dollar from public donations can go straight to the Pregnancy After Loss Service at the Royal Women’s.
Room Eleven takes no profit. Just heart, wheels and momentum.
Pregnancy After Loss Parent Guide
Also this week, I helped chair the latest working group session with the team at the Stillbirth CRE and other parents with lived experience. We reviewed updates to the Pregnancy After Loss Parent Resource Guide, went over new layouts, fresh design ideas, and lots of practical back-and-forth.
This guide is shaping up to be exactly what I hoped it would be: something real, helpful, and grounded in both research and lived experience. The kind of thing we would’ve clung to during that second and even third pregnancy.
When it’s ready, I know the team at the Royal Women’s will want to get it into the hands of every family walking that impossible tightrope between grief and hope.
Weekly Musings
What I’m Watching: Andor - season 2
If you’re into Star Wars, or even if you’re not, Andor is worth your time. It’s the series that proves you don’t need the Jedi or lightsabers to make something engaging and entertaining in the Star Wars Universe.
The story follows Cassian Andor, a guy who starts out just trying to find his friend and finds himself intertwined into the early formation of the rebellion. The show is set before the 2016 film Rogue One, which is great standalone Star Wars movie about a bunch of ragtag people trying to plan and then steal the Death Star plans. Spoiler alert: It’s one of the only Star Wars stories where no one makes it out alive, but they are the spark that fuels the rebellion in the original trilogy.
That knowledge hangs over Andor like a shadow. We already know where Cassian ends up. So the show becomes this layered, slow-burn exploration of how people decide to fight back. How ordinary lives stack up into something that matters.
It's gritty, grounded, and one of the best written Star Wars shows ever produced. Just sucks that it’s over after only 2 seasons.
App I’m Returning To: The Resilience Project
I downloaded this app a couple of years ago, used it for a while, and then completely forgot it existed. As you do.
Found it again this week, tucked away in a dusty corner of my phone. Gave it another go. And honestly, it’s been a solid reset.
The app is built around simple daily check-ins using gratitude, empathy, and mindfulness. It gives you a space to reflect before bed. Just a few prompts. Nothing intense. And I’ve already noticed a shift. Even when the day’s been all over the place, ending it with that kind of reflection irons out the frazzles.
It’s not magic. It’s not a fix-all. But it helps quiet the noise. And sometimes that’s all you need to reset for tomorrow.
There’s something quietly powerful about sitting with the idea that energy never disappears. That even in grief, something remains. Not in a mystical, floaty way. But in how we carry people forward. Through words. Through action. Through the way we show up for others.
This week, maybe take five minutes before bed. Reflect on something you're grateful for. Someone you miss. A moment that mattered. Try the Resilience Project app, or just jot it down. Gratitude, empathy, mindfulness. They won’t fix everything. But they do help us hold both the weight and the wonder.
And if this newsletter meant something to you, please share it. Every new reader helps us raise awareness, grow the mission, and push Scooting for Hope even further.
See you next week!
Rob
Giving Back
Donate a Still Billie Box
Our care packages for families who’ve lost their baby, named after our baby daughter Billie. Offering comfort during what should be a joyful season. Your donation can make a real difference in allowing us to provide free Still Billie Boxes to hospitals across Australia.
Room Eleven is a social enterprise business and does not qualify for DGR status.