Exactly one week ago, my husband and I faced an unimaginable tragedy – the loss of our firstborn, our beloved baby boy Azaiah, who was born still. Our hearts are heavy as we navigate the profound sorrow of bidding farewell to a life brimming with hope and love.

Our journey to parenthood was marked by three arduous and challenging years of struggling to conceive. The moment we received the long-awaited positive pregnancy test back in April, our hearts overflowed with joy. It felt like a miracle, and we were overjoyed at the prospect of finally becoming parents.

From the outset of the pregnancy, I grappled with severe nausea and vomiting, symptoms that persisted until the day of delivery. Despite enduring relentless discomfort, I remained steadfast, consoling myself with the belief that every moment of hardship would be justified once we held our precious baby in our arms. However, fate had other plans for us, and our dreams were shattered when I experienced premature rupture of membranes at just 20 weeks and 1 day.

As we cradled our son, Azaiah, in our arms, we found ourselves grappling for answers as to why this tragedy occurred. Both he and I were in perfect health, making his sudden passing even more incomprehensible. It’s a pain that defies understanding, one that words cannot fully convey. Losing a child is a unique and devastating experience, leaving an indescribable void in our lives.

The longing to become parents has been deeply rooted in my heart for as long as I can remember. I’ve always yearned to be a mother, and in a sense, I am one – even though my child is no longer with us. But the pain of losing Azaiah is overwhelming, and the fear of facing such heartbreak again makes the thought of future pregnancies terrifying.

Amidst this profound grief and uncertainty, I find solace in the support of my husband and loved ones. Their presence and empathy help me navigate this otherworldly pain, and I’m grateful for everyone who holds space for me during this challenging time.