Our pregnancy was like any other- labs were unremarkable, ultrasounds looked great, fetal movement and heart sounds were strong, and the baby was growing right on track. After our 34-week appointment, I was obsessed about the kick counts. Our appointment was on a Tuesday and on Wednesday I started to freak out about the baby’s movement. I went to work Wednesday night, slept poorly Thursday, and woke up in an absolute panic, a feeling of emptiness. I had dialed the doctor’s office but hung up thinking I was just freaking myself out. I had told my husband I couldn’t feel the baby and we both thought I was crazy; I was just at my appointment, and everything looked great. I calmed down and on my way to work that night, thought I had felt the movement I had been missing. I instantly felt a sigh of relief. The movements never felt the same, but I could feel the baby push against me. 

I have been a pediatric cardiology nurse for years. I have seen a lot of death and sad stories in my career. I have seen families' lives flip upside down in an instance. I have watched patients take their last breath and have watched a family walk away from a hospital with nothing but their belongings. Never in my life did I think I could somehow relate even more to these families than I do now. On June 9th, 2021, we gave birth to a beautiful boy named Grady John who was born without a heartbeat. 

On June 8th, 2021, I had a fetal echo at work, for no particular reason but to have an ECHO fellow practice their skills. The second I sat at the table I knew they were going to find something. She kept scanning me and said sometimes it is hard to find the flutter based on their position. I saw all four chambers of the heart and it did not move. She brought in one of the fetal cardiologists that I work with who confirmed that there was no heartbeat. We all cried together, and they took me to a patient room to call my husband and gather my thoughts. I saw a social worker who helped talk me through what just happened, and they had an OB sonographer scan me before I left to make sure they didn’t see anything else. As she looked, she could tell that he had passed away for what she thought was one-two weeks. The fear I had felt that Thursday of baby being 34 weeks was not fear but a mother’s intuition that something was not right and that he did indeed pass away. I knew deep down that was the answer, but I didn’t want to face reality. I thought because I was feeling him move that maybe, just maybe everything was okay and that I had freaked out for nothing. 

The morning of June 9th, 2021, we were to be at the hospital at 7 am. I was already in labor upon arrival. I was 3 cm dilated and 60% effaced. In layman terms, my body was already in the process of pushing Grady out knowing he was not alive. When I had researched how my body knew what to do, I had read that two weeks after fetal demise, the body will start a natural labor to expel the fetus. Again, confirming that he more than likely had passed away in the 34th week either that Wednesday or Thursday. They told us it could take 24-48 hours to deliver Grady but was born within 10. We had an amazing nurse with us who went above and beyond. She cried with us, answered all my questions openly and honestly, and stayed way past her shift ended to make sure we were taken care of. The hospital provided a ton of support through their chaplain services, a program called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep came and provided us with footprints, clay molds of his feet, photos, and a clipping of his hair. Another organization, Walk with Me, came that night and talked with us about what they do to help families through child loss. They took Grady and captured the moments we didn’t think we needed but are so thankful for now. They took professional photos of him alone and with us. We held Grady for hours that night and saw him for a final goodbye the next day. We were then the family that walked away from the hospital with nothing more than our belongings.

We are not the same people we were prior to Grady’s birth. Even though we never met him, heard him cry, or fed him, he changed us in ways we honestly can’t explain. We are parents to a beautiful angel baby. Since losing Grady, we vowed to make something so terrible and tragic into a beautiful mission. We have hosted a golf tournament each year around his birthday to raise money for both Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep and Walk With Me. This year, the tournament is on his actual birthday of June 9th. Over the last three years of tournaments, we have raised close to $75,000. Along with our tournament, we have vowed to be open about our experience and share our story with others who have experienced or know someone who has experienced something similar. No one wants to be part of this community, but if you must be, you might as well share your story and grow with others who have experienced a similar loss. 

In the last four years, we have brought a daughter named Lainey and a son named Dawson into our lives. We had a miscarriage after Grady, before Lainey. Before we knew Lainey was a girl, I just knew she was going to be, and I wanted to name her Lainey.  After learning that the name Lainey means, “bright light”, it could not have been more fitting for our rainbow baby. We talk about Grady daily and hope they grow up to know what an amazing guardian angel they have watching over them. We will never know what happened to have caused Grady to be born still, but we do know that he changed our lives and continues to each day.

To learn more about the Grady Classic visit: https://gradyinsana.com/the-grady-classic-golf-tournament/

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a dedicated 501(c)(3) non-profit, offers families experiencing pregnancy and infant loss with complimentary remembrance portraits, capturing precious moments with their babies. Your generous donation can help us extend this heartfelt service to more families in need. Please consider supporting us here.