My baby’s heart stopped. I am heartbroken.

I will warn you before reading this post that it is an incredibly sensitive subject. Writing is therapeutic for me, and I know that someone – even if it’s just one person – will find solace with my story. Also, we are still in the throes of wherever this path is leading. If I jump around more than usual, please forgive me.

Right now, we’re supposed to be on a flight to Florida. Our big, spring family babymoon on the beach has been getting us through the past few crazy busy weeks. And the crazy winter. But that’s not where we are.

Instead, we’re sitting in the hospital waiting for the induction meds to take hold. Today I am having a baby. Except it’s not a joyous occasion.

Yesterday morning, I knew something was off. I hadn’t felt my little girl move in about a day – which, given how active she’s been since about week sixteen, was concerning. So I called the doctor and went into the clinic. Within ten minutes we got the absolute worst news any parent could ever receive: our baby’s heart had stopped beating.

Scan after scan confirmed it. It was awful. It IS awful.

We went home. We were experiencing an amount of pain and hurt that I could have never imagined before. My little baby girl was gone before she even had a chance to live. My baby is dead. Those words hurt so much more when they’re staring back at you from a computer screen. It’s like they’re glaring me in the face, forcing me to accept them. Awful.

The only thing that forced us to hold things together is the fact that we have a beautiful, smart, amazing 19 month old little boy who needs us. We spent hours sitting there – looking at nothing – trying to comprehend how our hearts had just been shattered. And then it was time to pick up Ricky – so we had to try and put on halfway normal faces and be the mommy and daddy he needed.

After we picked him up, it was as though he knew something was going on. Instead of wanting to run outside or build towers with his blocks, all he wanted to do was snuggle up on me with his blankie. He even wanted me to rock him to sleep. These are things that typically don’t happen at our house – and it was comforting in a space where nothing can really make you feel better at all.

Since we’re so far along in the pregnancy, I have to go through labor and delivery to birth my stillborn angel baby. Knowing that I was going to get up this morning and go through this process was almost more than I could bear. Neither of us slept much last night. When I actually got out of bed, my eyes would only open halfway – they were swollen halfway shut from crying. I laughed when I saw myself in the mirror…I looked like a hundred bees attacked my eyes. Finding a miniscule amount of humor in a seemingly impossible situation helped me to force one foot in front of the other when all I wanted to do was hide in the back of my closet.

And here we are. One day later, sitting in a hospital bed, awaiting the inevitable. It is a hurt worse than anything I have ever been through. It is impossible to comprehend in one breath: that on Friday, my baby and her heartbeat were strong. And yesterday, they were gone.

My focus right now is getting through today. Finding out why this happened. And figuring out what happens next. I go from feeling like I can get through this and, at some point, accept that this really happened to sobbing and grieving the little life that was lost. It is heartwrenching.

The logical side of me knows that this is temporary. I know that eventually, we will find a new normal. But right now…it’s raw. Going through labor to deliver a baby that will never cry, never take a breath, a first step, say a first word…I just don’t know how to make that reality hurt less. Today sucks.


  1. 6


    Oh Cortney, I am so sorry for your loss and I cannot even begin to fathom what you and your family are going through.

    You are truly courageous for putting this out there, and I am sure it will provide some comfort to someone else finding themselves in this devastating situation.

  2. 10

    Angela Sloneker says

    Hi Cortney, I work with Nancy and she shared this tragic news with me. I am so sorry for your loss and we are praying for all of you!

  3. 12


    Cortney, I am so sorry for your loss. I am in tears reading this. Please know that you and your baby and your family are in my heart and thoughts and prayers. Indeed, today sucks.

  4. 14


    I am so very sorry that you, your husband and family have to say goodbye to your baby girl. It is such a tragedy. We are sending you love and support and will keep you in our prayers.

  5. 15

    Laura says

    I cannot even imagine what your heart is going though and I am so so sorry that this has and is happening to you. Stay brave.

  6. 16


    Thank you for letting out your emotions and sharing your story with the blogosphere. There is nothing that I can say/type that will help ease the pain you and your family are experiencing, however I do want you to know that I am here and you’re in my heart and thoughts. Will keep you in my prayers.
    Fatima recently posted…For Moms, With LoveMy Profile

  7. 18

    Kelly says

    My heart breaks for you and family dearest, Cortney. Hugs. Solemnly praying peace, comfort and all you need to go through this very difficult season and seasons ahead.

  8. 19

    Jodi says

    My heart is aching for you and your family, Cortney. You guys have been on my mind ever since I heard the news. I am sending thoughts and prayers of comfort and peace to all of you during this unimaginable time.

  9. 22


    Oh, I am so very sorry for your loss…and for what you have to get through these next few days and weeks. I know it will always be difficult, and I cannot even pretend to know how you feel. But as a mom I wouldn’t wish this outcome for anyone.
    Sherri recently posted…Brotherly loveMy Profile

  10. 26

    Emily Allen says

    I’m so heartbroken to hear of this news; at a loss of words – so just know that I’m praying for you and your family, as are many others. We are here for you. xoxo

  11. 31

    Hope says

    I so sorry! I just found your blog and I’m in the midst of this heartache now. I delivered my silent baby girl Dec. 11, 2014. I was 26 weeks with her and all the tests I’ve had done came back ‘normal’. I have found comfort through hearing others stories. Thank your for sharing yours!

    • 32


      Oh mama. I’m so sorry. I know what you’re going through and how you’re probably finally at a point of feeling ok some days, and really terrible on others. Good luck as you work through this process – it’s kind of a forever one, but I do promise that it gets better. Not perfect, but better. <3


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge