"I Prayed Every Day During my Pregnancy for a Safe and Healthy Baby."

Mother of Drayke:

My husband and I tried for about six months to get pregnant.

We had a beautiful baby girl on July 23, 2017. The pregnancy was great and although the delivery was very rough, we had our Avyn Elizabeth and all was right in the world.

Fast forward a few years later and we decided to try again. My husband really wanted a boy. We got pregnant in 2019 after trying for an entire year. We were so excited to find out that we were having a boy.

I prayed every day during that pregnancy for a safe and healthy

baby.

"Lord, just keep Drayke safe and healthy."

I’m not sure why I prayed that, but I did. The pregnancy with Drayke was good too. I was sick in the first trimester (same with Avyn). Once I hit that second trimester, things were so much better.

I did develop a rash, but after using some cream it went away. There were no red flags, no doctors had shared concerns, and we were rocking and rolling for our sweet baby boy to come in January 2021.

It was Friday November 13, 2020 when I didn’t feel Drayke move.

I had felt him move every day since I was 17 weeks pregnant. I was trying not to

be anxious, but I had a bad feeling.

My husband was getting ready to go on a weekend hunting trip with a friend when I told him of my concerns. I had a heart doppler to use at home that I had sold only a few weeks prior because “I didn’t need it.”

I was so mad about that because I needed reassurance that everything was good. My husband assured me all was fine and just to relax. I put our daughter down for a nap and I started on my computer work I do from home.

I couldn’t really focus so I just looked up “things to do when you can’t feel the baby move”. I did them all. Jump, drink orange juice, lay on your side, etc. Nothing changed.

I told myself to give it until 3:00pm and if I didn't feel him to call my OB and ask to come in. I asked my grandma to watch Avy so I could run up to the hospital.

I was crying on the way there, afraid of the worst, but praying that all was fine.

I went in and the nurse took a listen. My OB was not around. She said “I don’t hear anything, but I think it is just me.”

I clung to that as I was sent to the hospital for an ultrasound. I wasn’t thinking anything about it at the time and just went up there and got put in a gown. My husband was aware of all that was happening and came up there super quick. He was with me during the ultrasound.

Three nurses were there while I saw my sweet baby on the screen. I am

not a medical person and am always clueless to all things medical.

In this instance, of course I wanted to hear the best news. One of the nurses actually said she could hear two heartbeats but didn’t want to get my hopes up.

Another came in and listened and wasn’t sure. This was all before they actually got the large ultrasound machine out and looked.

The nurses didn’t say anything and I was getting frustrated when no one would tell

me what they saw. Brandon kept staring at the screen and I would look at him and then look at all of them as if, “c'mon give me something!”

It makes me sick to think back to that day and that moment.

I was VERY pregnant. We had just had Drayke’s shower two weeks prior. We were ready to bring him home in 10 weeks. I could not believe it so I needed to hear someone say everything was just great; instead I heard, “Mam I am

not a doctor. I can’t say.”

So I yell at Brandon, “what is going on? Is everything ok?” Brandon mustered, “it doesn’t look good babe.”

I immediately start screaming. I have never felt so out of my body before. It was like someone else came into my body and wouldn’t stop yelling.

I was crying and screaming so loudly I am sure everyone on that floor heard. I was beside myself. I just didn't understand.

Even when the doctor came to talk and pray for us, I remember thinking I can still deliver Drayke and they will revive him.

I couldn’t settle on the fact that he was gone. I just couldn’t.

Drayke’s heartbeat stopped on the 13th.

Drayke was stillborn on November 16, 2020 at 1:42pm. He weighed 3 pounds 4 ounces, 16.5 inches long.

I remember crying loudly while pushing. When the nurse asked if I wanted to hold him I silently shook my head yes. I can still feel his precious body on my chest even now. I so wished he would start breathing.

There are babies born all the time at 29 weeks or even sooner and they are perfectly healthy today. It is possible!

Why can’t I have Drayke? Why can’t my husband have his son that he so desires?

He has already endured so much in his life; not Brandon. "Please Lord, nothing else for Brandon to deal with". That was my immediate thought. My poor husband has had so much trauma throughout his entire 35 years. Why this?

The days and weeks to come were awful. We had so much love poured out on us

though. I remember feeling torn between being grateful for the cards, texts, and gifts. However, I just wanted my baby here.

We were told to try again after Drayke. We fell pregnant about six months after losing Drayke and then miscarried at five weeks. My perspective began to change after we miscarried.

I started to wonder if God is protecting us from something unseen.

Why did we try for a year to just lose Drayke when I was so far along? Why get pregnant again and then lose right away when so many people were praying for this rainbow baby?

I started to think about provision. It didn’t necessarily make anything easier, but I started to trust more. It was especially interesting to me because of hearing “trust me” during the week I knew I was pregnant after losing Drayke.

It made me think, "0kay God. Something is going on. How much do I try to fix and change things? I don’t want to try hard if this isn’t part of your plan."

From then on, I decided to pray, “please don’t ever let me get pregnant if that means losing another baby. We love and trust you have good plans for us.”

This blog was written by Allyson Dodds in Searcy, Arkansas. Allyson has been married to her husband, Brandon, for twelve years. Together they have four children - Avyn, who is 5 years old, Drayke and another baby in the arms of Jesus, and they are currently expecting another daughter in January 2023.

"The Same Day that My Son was Delivered, It was Confirmed That He Had Trisomy 13."

Mother of Kanaan:

My story as a mother began in August 2017. As my husband and I were just over 2.5 years into our marriage, we thought it was a good time to try and start a family. So that July we started trying and to our surprise we found out we were pregnant that August.

We were thrilled and couldn’t wait to tell family. We told our parents when we had just turned 8 weeks. It was on a Saturday morning we told them.

The next day ended up being completely different and turned into something we had never imagined.

We were supposed to go to a professional football game that day, but I started bleeding heavy that morning. I knew something wasn’t right and called the midwife I was working with. She told me what was happening and that we should go to the emergency room.

We headed there frantic, scared, sad, and confused. When we got there, they did an ultrasound, and told us the news we didn’t want to hear.

My body passed our first baby later that night.

One of the most painful things physically and emotionally I had ever went through. That baby's name is Esther. In the weeks following we let my body heal and decided to test my hormones. After doing some testing and changing some things in my body, we were given the green light to try again.

In only nine months after our first miscarriage, we were pregnant with Nehemiah. We were excited, yet nervous at the same time because of what happened before. We told our parents at 6 weeks along.

Then we lost our second baby at 8 weeks.

Again, my body passed him naturally and we were devastated. We didn’t understand. We thought it wasn’t supposed to happen because of some things we had done to help my hormones.

After going through a miscarriage again, we knew we could not go through it again.

We decided to get some further medical testing done and they had no answers. I had a hard time with that. I knew there was something deeper going on, so we found a holistic doctor to help us.

We ended up finding a lot of things going on in my body, so we committed to healing and rebuilding my body for a couple years. I felt the best I had ever felt.

When the time was right and we felt good about it, we started trying. A few months later, we ended up finding out we were pregnant. This time it was different.

I felt different and we had just received words from God that previous year about having children.

It was a divine miracle! We found out the gender early and got to do our first gender reveal. It was so fun being able to enjoy those pieces of pregnancy. I had what I call a “super natural” pregnancy. I had no morning sickness, no real health issues that we knew of. I was feeling so good and loved being pregnant.

I was so joyful in this time because it was something I had dreamed of and God had promised us.

I worked with a midwife who knew my journey and she was amazing. Each week was a step closer to meeting our son, Kanaan Asher Joseph.

We were so excited to finally have “our” time as becoming parents. It’s what we always wanted. Months and trimesters rolled by. Our nursery was coming together and I put the finishing touches on right before my first baby shower. I had put so much thought into his room, it made me smile.

I got the car seat, stroller, crib, and almost everything we needed. I was reading and learning about the ways of motherhood, birth, delivery, breastfeeding, etc. I wanted to be as prepared as I could.

My husband and I spent countless hours preparing for our miracle child.

At 31 weeks I had my baby shower and then had my next prenatal appointment at 34 weeks. During the visit my midwife was concerned I was measuring too small and suggested to do an ultrasound the next day.

We did and later that day found out the most devasting news.

She wanted us to do a level two ultrasound the next day to confirm. We did that, and needless to say, we got the same news, but in a much worse way. It was the hardest thing telling our families what was going on, as we didn’t fully understand it ourselves.

We were told during the ultrasound all the things that were wrong with our son. It was a laundry list so long, I thought it might never stop.

I’ll never forget feeling so numb while waiting in the room to see the genetic counselors and doctor. I was asked to do an amniocentesis to confirm their diagnosis of Trisomy 13.

We had never heard of this and didn’t want to believe our son had it. Nothing made sense. We learned that the moment of conception this happened but there was no reasoning for it, just random chance.

After what we had been through, now this? God felt far away as the rug was pulled out from under us.

As we did the procedure and waited for results, we had to make even more hard decisions. I was going to have to deliver him and it was highly unlikely that he would not be alive, and if he was, he would not live long.

We didn’t even know how to prepare.

September 7, 2021, Kanaan was born sleeping at 11:27pm. Kanaan was three pounds and 15 inches long.

I delivered him naturally with the help of my midwife, the support of one of my sisters, and my husband.

He went straight to heaven before I even got to say hello or goodbye.

So many emotions, the pain, the tears, the exhaustion, but yet, the peace. God showed me Kanaan was safe with Him already. I didn’t want that, but it gave me peace knowing he was safe.

That same day he was delivered, it was confirmed that he had Trisomy 13. I never imagined that something like this would happen to us. We don’t know the answers why and we probably never will.

We have to give up our right to understand, to have peace that surpasses all understanding. A hard but very necessary thing to do in this journey of grief.

We still contend for what God has promised us and we know He never caused this.

He will use our darkest days to bring light into someone else’s world. I pray that you will receive this hope and peace that doesn’t compare to anything else.

May we continue to look to God’s kingdom and our reunion with our children someday.

This blog was written by Melody Joseph in Minnesota. Melody has been with her husband, David, for eight years. Together they have three children in heaven - Esther, Nehemiah, and Kanaan.

Read Mother of Wilde's other stories of loss here. If you are interested in sharing your story of choosing to faithfully trust God through early pregnancy loss, stillbirth, or infant loss, you can submit your story for our blog here.

"My Son was Born at 29 Weeks Because of Placental Abruption."

Mother of Jacob:

My husband Jon and I got married in September of 2020 in the middle of the global pandemic. We had a simple, family only wedding on the coast of South Carolina then went back home and continued life, trying to enjoy what little bit of newly wedded bliss we could find. We never talked much about kids, thinking it was a discussion for after our first year of marriage. But six months later, I found myself staring at a positive pregnancy test.

My heart was racing, mind spinning, but a little flicker of love had already started to grow in my heart.

At ten weeks we had a strong heartbeat.

At twelve a beautiful ultrasound of a baby that looked like a peanut. At twenty weeks we saw our peanut again, big belly, big legs, big head, and found out we were having a boy. We were so happy.

From the moment I found out God had given us a little boy to raise, I was completely and totally in love, excited and joyful. As the weeks continued, Jake grew, got A-pluses at all doctor’s visits, I worked out, ate right, traveled, and never had a worry in the world.

In October, we went on our babymoon out West. We love the desert and wanted to be out in nature. On that trip we felt so connected to our little boy, falling more and more in love. My belly seemed to be getting bigger by the day and Jake was starting to move more frequently. It was all so perfect.

At the end of October, a week after we got home, I got sick.

At first, I thought it was just third trimester tiredness. I was rounding out my last week in the 20's and as I got closer to 30 weeks, I kept telling Jon how much my belly ached and that I was so ready to meet our little man. But the tiredness was extreme. I was sleeping all day and had a mild cough. I went to the doctor for a check up, Jake had a good heartbeat and they didn’t seem concerned. My Covid and flu tests came back negative, so I assumed it was just a bug of some kind.

I spoke with my doctor twice more over the phone and no one seemed worried. I only got a little concerned when my breathing was off and Jake didn't seem as active. But I thought it was okay. I was sick and lethargic, so wouldn't he be as well?

He also had an anterior placenta making it more difficult to feel consistent movement patterns and I had just been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, so I summed it all up to getting used to another “new normal”.

November 7, 2021 was the day of my baby shower.

I was still tired from the past week of being sick. I had more energy but was starting to feel funny in my head and my body was shaky, but I brushed it off. I got dressed and arrived at my shower, late as always. I walked in to the most beautiful, perfect shower. I visited with my friends and family.

I felt so loved, but continued to feel weird and disconnected, like I was floating above the room. At the end of the shower, I got a call about my husband, who was also sick. I went to go take care of him and didn't think of myself or Jake’s movements for the rest of the night.

Before I went to bed, I called my mom while sitting in the nursery, looking at one of the gifted baby books titled “You Are My Happy”.

I was peaceful, I was happy, I was ready to meet my little boy.

If I had only known...

November 8, 2021

3:00am I sat straight up in bed, belly hurting, realizing I had not felt Jake at all the day before. I was nervous, but calmed myself down, assured he was just tired from whatever bug I had fought off.

8:00am I made sure Jon was okay and lunch was made. I raced out the door to work. Throughout the morning I kept a conscious tab of Jake's movements.

There were none.

I assured myself he never really moved until after lunch anyways, so I went about my day.

12:00pm At my dad's insistence, I called the nurse, no answer. I hung up. I ate lunch, drank cold water and reassured myself that Jake would move later after lunch...like always. He didn't. I went to the bathroom and poked on him in his usual spots. Nothing.

2:00pm I called the nurse, left a message. She called me right back and told me to go to the hospital to check things out.

3:30pm my dad and I were at the hospital. 4:00pm monitors were strapped to my belly and to my relief I could hear Jake's heartbeat. It was short lived... When my dad told me his numbers, I knew they weren't good. However, I felt three strong kicks which gave me comfort, my little guy was still there.

At this point I lost track of time. I was told there looked to be a backflow issue with the placenta. In addition, his oxygen levels were abnormal so they had me go through a stress test, nothing changed.

The ultrasounds showed him moving, but they were slow. The doctor then informed me they were going to do a c-section. In the moment all I could process was my little 29 week, 5 day old boy was going to be delivered because my body was no longer safe for him.

I was assured that babies this young survive and was told the plan; my newborn would be transported to a bigger hospital with a level 3 NICU immediately after surgery.

When I was awake, they would get me to pump as much as I could and send milk to that hospital. The following morning, I would be transported as well. I took a deep breath, nervous, but calm. I called my husband (who was not with me) to fill him in, but quickly had to go as they started prepping me for the c-section. They had a hard time finding a vein and by the time they did I was so worked up I was about to pee my bed, so I asked to go to the bathroom.

And that was the moment my whole world started to crumble.

As I stood up there was a gush of blood. The nurses hurried me back into bed. They put the heart monitor on Jake, nothing. The doctor ran in, the nurses began to move my bed, then started to run. I couldn't process what was happening.

The door to the OR was opened. They took me inside, moved me to the operating table; everyone in the room was doing something: catheter, ointment, breathing mask... I began to panic, reality started to sink in as I stared at the OR lights.

"Keep him safe, Lord, keep him safe. Be with us. I'm so scared. Lord, keep him safe. Hold on baby." I heard the anesthesiologist say “you’ll be okay, honey.” And I was out.

Jacob Henry was born at 7:20 pm on November 8, 2021, 2 pounds, 13 ounces, 15 inches long.

I came to, shaking uncontrollably, scared, cold.

I just wanted to go back to sleep. I couldn't remember what was happening. I was just scared. I came to again, a sweet nurse told me he made it, but somberly told me it took eighteen minutes to revive him.

I nod, "thank goodness." She reiterates how long it took, but at that moment I didn't understand why. "What's his name?" asked another nurse. "Jacob Henry," I said. "Happy Birthday Jacob!" I heard the nurses say as I fell back to sleep.

I've been told that at that time Jake was intubated, the transfer team was there at the OR, the ambulance was ready to take him to the level 3 NICU. My dad was talking to the anesthesiologist who reassured him that the other NICU was great, and he was keeping Jon posted.

I come to again, this time on my own.

That’s when I saw the neonatal nurse and two others walk in, sullen faces. I knew. I knew in my heart. A mother knows it in her bones. "I'm so sorry."

He lost too much blood. I'm so sorry." she said repeatedly. And just like that he was gone.

They asked if I wanted to hold him and I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I was heavily medicated and in a total daze, but all I wanted was to see my boy.

Minutes later they brought in my perfect little angel. The emotion that hit me first was love, total love, like nothing I’ve ever felt. Then sheer agony. I sobbed. My dad enveloped me and cried with me. My mom arrived and held me as I held Jake.

Then I had to do the worst thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, tell Jon.

He was at home, an hour away, not allowed in the hospital because he had been sick. Pandemic rules.

So, I had to tell my husband our precious baby boy died, over facetime. As if it's not hard enough to lose a child, we lost him separately and my husband had to hear it over facetime, alone. Trauma on trauma. Heartbreak on heartbreak.

Thanks to some amazing nurses and an act of God, Jon was allowed in my room to hold Jake.

We held him, cried, prayed, stared. We were destroyed, shattered, our innocence left with our little boy.

We were allowed to spend as much time with Jake as we could, but eventually rules can only be pushed so far, and Jon was required to leave. I thought my heart couldn't break any more, but it did. My husband was alone and I was left holding our precious baby without him.

At some point in the night, my angel of a nurse asked if she could bathe Jake and came back in, presenting his full head of sandy red hair which gave me a much needed smile.

All night long I marveled at his perfect little nose. His sweet little lips. His delicate eyelashes. He looked just like his dad. I held his sweet fingers and toes. I rubbed his soft cheeks. I kissed his perfectly round head.

I tried memorizing every inch of him. I was so in love.

The following morning, we were blessed to be gifted a photographer to capture our only moments with our sweet boy.

Jon was allowed back in one more time. We spent several hours loving on our sweet Jacob Henry until it was time to say goodbye.

If it were up to me, I would never let him go. But Jon could see it was time and our hearts needed to let our baby rest. I couldn't even bear to watch them take him out of the room. Even now, remember that moment, my heart cries out for him.

It is the most unnatural thing in the world to have your baby taken away from you forever.

In the following days and weeks after Jake's birth, we found a few answers.

Whether due to being sick, gestational diabetes or a combination of both, Jake's placenta has started to dysfunction causing his heart rate and oxygen levels to decrease.

While I was in the hospital a placental abruption presented itself when I went to the bathroom. However, it is the belief of the doctor that the abruption was silent, meaning the blood was pooled in a way that could not be seen on the ultrasound so Jake may have been losing blood for a while.

I've been told this is rare. Not knowing what the exact cause was eats away at my mind. I constantly replay all the things I could have done that may have prevented it. I research causes, little of which is actually known. Everything leads me back to the same place, it's all out of my control.

I have never felt so helpless. I have never felt so vulnerable.

My innocence is lost. I now live in a world where babies die - healthy babies die.

No one could ever have prepared me for the pain of saying goodbye to my child.

But also, no one could have prepared me for the amount of love I was to experience. I will never understand why this is the path God planned for me, but I do believe Jake has a purpose.

As I see it, the only way for me to live my life now is to live for God and to honor Jake. I want God to work through our suffering, both within our family and our community.

A year later, I do have hope for the future, even if some days are dim.

I miss my son with every fiber of my being, but I am so thankful I got to carry him for the time I did. I’m proud to be his mama, to tell his story and share the love that has poured out from his short life.

And even more, I can now testify that in the darkest of valleys, I can trust God to redeem the brokenness, with my hands raised and heart wide open.

This blog was written by Kait Roth in Charlotte, North Carolina. Kait has been with her husband, Jonathan, for seven and married for two years. Together they have one children, Jacob, in heaven.

Read Mother of Wilde's other stories of loss here. If you are interested in sharing your story of pregnancy or infant loss, you can submit your story for our blog here.