William Roy

Losing a baby changes everything. Even 13 years later, I can still remember every detail of the day we learned our son would not survive.

In March 2013, my then-boyfriend, Jeff, and I found out we were expecting our first baby while living in Sioux City, Iowa. We were overwhelmed with excitement and already dreaming about holding our little one in our arms. For the first few months, everything seemed normal, and I believed my pregnancy was progressing just as it should.

The week before Father’s Day, I went in for my anatomy scan. Jeff’s mom, Jane, came with me to the appointment. I still remember walking into the office, checking in with the receptionist, completing the routine urine test, and sitting in the waiting room full of anticipation.

When the ultrasound technician called us back, I could hardly contain my excitement. During the ultrasound, she asked if we wanted to know the baby’s gender. Without hesitation, I said yes.

“You’re having a boy.”

The moment those words left her mouth, I saw a …