our story

On Memorial Day weekend 2024, we found out we were expecting. It was a joyous surprise, with our wedding only two weeks away. Steve and I got married on June 7th in the Poconos. We had planned out our pregnancy announcement: the cutest mini Converse booties to photograph next to our wedding Converse. Little Koen was already so very loved. Steve and I spent the following months preparing to welcome our son, and I passed every pregnancy milestone with ease. Koen was healthy. I spent months painting a mural in his nursery and we found the perfect crib on Facebook Marketplace. We were so ready for this little guy!

On January 30th, 2025, my husband and I went to the doctor for what we thought was a routine and typical 40-week appointment, with our boy set to arrive in just a few days via scheduled induction. My pregnancy was, up until this point, uneventful, and Koen had been growing, moving, and wiggling every day as we anxiously awaited his arrival. Our lives were forever altered when the doctor searched and searched for a heartbeat, but all we heard was silence—an incredible, deafening silence.

We were rushed to Lankenau Medical Center, where it was confirmed that we had lost our sweet baby. Despite the shock of our loss, Koen still had to be delivered. We spent the next 48 hours in the hospital enduring a long labor, to welcome our stillborn son on February 1st, 2025. He was our perfect little cowboy, 6lbs, 1oz, and 20in. long. Nothing prepares you for the loss of your child; it truly is just the most horrible thing to endure.

We spent two days loving our Koen, and it will never ever be enough, but we are forever grateful that short time was even made possible thanks to a device called the Caring Cradle. This special bassinet, which kept Koen’s little body cool, allowed us more time with him to say goodbye. In addition to the Caring Cradle, a remembrance cart, provided by The Adalyn Rose Foundation, was left in our hospital room. This cart was filled with resources such as books on child loss, information on support groups for both parents and family members, as well as toys to help young siblings or nieces and nephews learn about grief and loss.

I want to make clear that while Koen was healthy and growing normally in all his scans, his death was not without cause. With the help of Yale’s Placental Research Unit, we learned that Koen’s main cause of death was due to a small placenta, which unfortunately is not standard practice to measure. His secondary cause of death was due to a cord accident. Cord accidents are extremely rare, but they do happen. We will never know if something could have been done to prevent Koen’s death, but Dr. Kliman and his team are working hard to grow their body of research and advocate for more procedural tests and interventions in hopes to prevent deaths like this from occurring.

The incredible hospital staff and amazing organizations provided invaluable care during those dark days. We will never see our son’s first birthday, or celebrate milestones like his first steps or his high school graduation. We do not get to watch our son grow, or see him create his own legacy. We strongly feel that it’s our duty as Koen’s mommy and daddy to create a legacy for him, and to keep his name alive.

We are calling our event “Koen’s Remembrance Rodeo,” as a tribute to his western-themed nursery, which we spent so many hours perfecting. We hope you’ll join us to support this incredible endeavor, to honor Koen and all the other loss parents out there who are in desperate need of the resources and medical equipment which make surviving this terrible loss possible.

With love,

April & Steve

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Please see resources and additional information on stillbirth here.