My husband, Clayton, and I married in February of 2014, and both knew we wanted to wait about two years before having children. I grew up babysitting a lot of kids throughout high school and college. Being a mom has always been a role I deeply desired. God blessed us as soon as we decided to get pregnant. We couldn’t wait until our due date, November 1, 2016. On March 29, 2016, we had our first appointment at 9 weeks gestation. We didn’t hear a heartbeat, and we knew our baby was already in heaven. The six months following were full of tears, heartache, pain, and confusion. I didn’t understand why or how this could happen, but my trust and faith ...

April 17 was a day that I will never forget. A day that will be etched in my heart my entire life. A day of great sorrow and immense pain—yet a day of hope. My daughter was a healthy thriving baby until April 17 when I knew something was wrong. I had lost another baby early in pregnancy but got pregnant shortly after, leaving little time to grieve, process, and heal. It made this pregnancy much different than our son’s—who is living on earth. I was more cautious, hesitant, and fearful. That day she wasn’t moving as much so we went in to get checked. From then, it was a blur of a day—but one that I can also seem to replay in my head ...