From pink laces in the dark to pink skies at dawn, this was more than a trek – it was a shared journey of remembrance, resilience and hope.
On Sunday 10th May, 21 Petals supporters – former clients, family members, friends and Petals staff – set out together to climb a mountain in the middle of the night. Not just any mountain, but Yr Wyddfa – the highest peak in Wales. In the middle of the night.
We climbed in memory of babies held forever in our hearts, babies loved and never known, and for bereaved parents still facing their own mountain of grief.
The journey begins
At just after 1am, we left the hotel in near silence, rucksacks on our backs and pink Petals laces tied tightly. There was excitement, but anxiety too. Would we be warm enough? Did we have the right kit? Would we need the loo? (All the important questions.)
Our guides from RAW Adventures were reassuring and full of advice right from the word go. They told us to respect the mountain and reminded us it would be tough, but that we could do it. Still, the nerves remained. Especially when the first twenty minutes turned out to be a relentless uphill climb on concrete, which left us panting and exhausted before we had even reached the base of the mountain itself.
And then, finally, headtorches on, we began the climb. One foot in front of the other. Step by step. Side by side. As the night enveloped us, all that could be seen was the lights from the town behind us and the glowworm trail of torchlight we created along the Llanberis Path. We navigated rocky ground, steep inclines and sheer drops that swallowed the landscape into blackness. As we climbed steadily higher, the wind grew colder and stronger around us, sometimes with gusts fierce enough to knock us off balance.
Walking a difficult path
For hour upon hour we walked and talked. As Jordan, who was walking in memory of her baby boy, Ezri, says:
“Throughout the trek I had some wonderful, emotional and heart-warming conversations, we shared some laughs too and I met some truly incredible people. Knowing we were walking for similar reasons hit me a few times, but it felt special to be amongst people who felt called to honour the babies we have lost and raise vital funds for the charity who helped us when we needed it most.”
Some, like Jordan, had already climbed unimaginable mountains of grief. Others had walked alongside a loved one while they climbed theirs.
“I felt emotional, empowered and honoured knowing I was doing it for Ezri, it felt like I was doing something for him as a mother in a way that you never imagine doing so.” Jordan explains.
We carried with us a chain of pink crocheted Petals flowers, lovingly made by Nancy from the Petals team – one flower to symbolise every baby being remembered by a trekker that night.
In Welsh mythology, Yr Wyddfa is woven through stories of endurance, challenge and memory. Mountains have always symbolised the impossible things humans attempt to overcome – grief, fear, loss, survival. They are places where earth feels closest to sky. Places of perspective, reverence, even transformation.
As the hours passed, the darkness deepened and energy levels dropped. The sky turned murkier, the mist thickened, and the cold sharpened around us. It felt like the mountain itself was reminding us of something important: how it is often darkest before dawn.
Night and day
By the time we approached the summit, dawn was gathering its skirts behind the clouds.
Every step upward felt purposeful. Every difficult stretch reminded us why we had come – not just to raise money, but to remember, to honour, and to show that we can survive the most challenging experiences when supported through them.
One by one, we climbed the final rocky steps to the trig point at the top of Yr Wyddfa and felt it all: fear, disbelief, exhaustion, elation. We had done it. Together.
We gathered for a photo holding the Petals flower chain out in awe of ourselves, each other, the journey everyone had been on and the landscape before us. This was never about conquering a mountain, but meeting it where it was: with respect, resilience, grace and gratitude.
As we descended, the most extraordinary sunrise finally broke through the clouds. Ribbons of gold and soft pastel light spilled across the sky and over the green valleys below in a way that felt almost spiritual.
“That moment was something I’ll never forget,” Jordan says. “I will hold the whole experience close to my heart forever. I feel so honoured and grateful to of had the chance to do this for Ezri and for Petals.
Emily, another walker, and one of our own Petals counsellors, felt the same:
“We all had personal stories of why we were doing this climb together. I felt a deep connection with Jonas throughout the experience and how he lives on in another way which gives me strength, love and connection.”
That is what these Petals treks are about. They are not simply challenge events, and they are far more than fundraising. They create time and a space for people to feel connected, supported and understood and are the most beautiful and symbolic reminder that nobody should have to walk the path of grief alone.
Together, our walkers raised more than £20,000, enough to fund specialist counselling for over 40 bereaved couples through Petals. But more than that, they carried hope up a mountain in the dark. And brought it back down again for people they may never meet.
