Jane's Story

On June 1, 2023, I found out I was pregnant.

My husband and I weren't actively trying to conceive, but we also weren't preventing it. When I saw those two pink lines, I knew I had to find a special way to tell him. I laid baby items across our bed, secretly recorded his reaction, and watched as pure joy filled the room. We were over the moon. We were going to be parents.

Like every first-time mom, I wanted to do everything right. I ate healthy (most of the time—pregnancy cravings are no joke), took my prenatal vitamins, kept every doctor's appointment, and followed every recommendation I was given.

Early in my pregnancy, I asked my midwife about the "safe zone." You always hear that once you make it past 12 weeks, you're safe. She reassured me that everything looked perfect and that our baby was healthy. I believed her. Why wouldn't I? I was pregnant with my first child. I never imagined something could still go wrong.

Because I had an anterior placenta, I couldn't feel my baby's movements as much as I had hoped. To ease my anxiety, I bought an at-home doppler so I could occasionally listen to her heartbeat.

Around 19 weeks, we had our anatomy scan. Everything looked wonderful, and we found out we were having a little girl.

We couldn't have been happier.

The following weekend, we celebrated with a gender reveal at my parents' house, surrounded by our closest friends and family. We proudly announced that we were having a daughter, and everyone shared in our excitement.

The very next day, everything changed.

That Sunday, I realized I hadn't felt her move in a while. Because movement had always been inconsistent due to my anterior placenta, I tried not to panic. Instead, I grabbed my doppler to listen for her heartbeat.

I searched for nearly two hours.

Nothing.

I tried every trick I knew—a sugary drink, changing positions, gently pressing on my stomach—but I still couldn't find her heartbeat.

Finally, I called the on-call OB at my local hospital. I explained that I was around 20 weeks pregnant, hadn't felt movement for over a day, and couldn't find the heartbeat after hours of trying.

Instead of reassurance, I was told, "If your baby is dead, there is nothing I can do about it."

Those words shattered me. I felt dismissed and completely alone.

Still, I convinced myself that maybe I was doing something wrong. I called my mom, and she brought over a nurse friend to try the doppler herself. She couldn't find the heartbeat either, but she encouraged me to stay hopeful.

Later that evening, I laid in the shower with the water running over me and cried out to God.

I begged Him to keep my daughter alive. I prayed that if she had already died, He would somehow bring her back. I promised I would praise Him and honor Him even more if He would just let her live.

At that moment, I experienced something I have never experienced before or since.

I heard God speak clearly to my heart.

He asked, "Will you praise Me if she is dead?"

I had never heard His voice like that before. I didn't know what to do with those words, so I pushed them aside and clung to hope.

The next day, I went to work as if everything was normal. When I got home, I searched again for her heartbeat.

Nothing.

The following day, I worked late, came home, and spent another four hours trying to find her heartbeat. I finally told myself that if I still couldn't find it by morning, I would call my OB.

The next morning, I walked into my OB's office.

I told them about the conversation I had with the on-call physician, and they immediately apologized for how I had been treated.

The midwife picked up the office doppler and searched for about 30 seconds before quietly setting it down and reaching for the bedside ultrasound machine.

The moment she placed the probe on my belly, I saw my beautiful daughter.

She had one tiny hand raised above her head.

She wasn't moving.

The room, which was filled with conversation and laughter, fell silent.

The midwife gently told me to call my husband before stepping out to give me a moment.

Because the office ultrasound wasn't considered diagnostic, they sent us downstairs to the breast imaging center, where the only available ultrasound machine was located.

My husband, my mom, and my mother-in-law all came with me.

We sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours.

When we were finally called back, the ultrasound technician quietly began taking measurements. She searched carefully for a heartbeat.

There wasn't one.

My husband cried out and gently turned my face away from the screen.

I remember asking the technician, "Is she dead?"

She hesitated before quietly answering, "Yes."

At that moment, my entire world collapsed.

I fell to the floor, sobbing.

Somehow, we made it back upstairs to my OB's office, where they explained my options for delivery.

Afterward, we went home, picked up our dog, and sat together in a conservation area, trying to process a reality we never imagined we would face.

Later that day, we went to my in-laws' property to choose a place where we would bury our daughter.

The next morning, I was admitted to the hospital to be induced.

I was terrified.

I barely slept.

Looking back, I truly believe my nurses were angels sent by God. They prayed over me, cried with me, and cared for me with a compassion I will never forget.

After more than 20 hours of labor, our beautiful daughter, Jane Annelle, was born on October 5, 2023, at 3:03 a.m.

There were no cheers.

No celebration.

Only quiet tears, broken hearts, and overwhelming love for the little girl we had waited so long to meet.

She was perfect.

And she was deeply loved.

Samantha Roshan

Founder and President