“There is no heartbeat” (Archives)

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“There is no heartbeat”

Toy bunny sitting in baby safety seat (Pixelshot)

Take Home Baby

I cradled her head delicately, supporting her, and felt pride in her heft, her fully developed form, this tiny human we had created together. “Is this what being a father feels like?” Then I placed her tenderly in the hospital cart, and watched as the nurse dutifully rolled her away.

The Worst Part of Child Loss | Miranda holding Adrian's photo in the mountains of Kaua'i (Luna Kai Photography)

The Worst Part

Hearing the news was definitely the worst part. “There is no heartbeat.” It broke me. I fell. And the “worst” pieces just kept building.

Miranda and Adrian's Elephant on the California coast (Synch Media)

1 June 2020

June is an intense month for me, because each June, I remember what it’s like to go in for a routine examination and be told my child has no heartbeat. My greatest wish for the world today is to understand the power of GENUINELY informed consent.

Peanut's feet with Adrian's Elephant (Miranda Hernandez)

First

People sometimes ask me if my daughter is my first child. I needed a simple way to tell them I had a child before her, but he died. When people ask me now, I have a simple response.

Miranda sitting on the edge of red dirt on the ledge of a cliff in Waimea Canyon, Kaua'i, Hawai'i. Miranda is wearing a white shirt and lavender yoga pants, and is practicing yogic breathing while looking into the distance of the canyon (Luna Kai Photography)

Physical Body After Stillbirth

One of the least-talked-about aspects of stillbirth and pregnancy loss is that postpartum bodies still carry weight & produce milk, whether you have a living child or not. This is my journey with my postpartum body after stillbirth.

Photo of original artwork created by Katy Martin to illustrate "29 June 2017" - artwork implies a mama elephant with her trunk wrapped around a baby. The colors of the artwork are bright and cheery on the left side of the painting, abruptly shifting to dark and painful on the right

29 June 2017

29 June 2017: The day my son died – When she couldn’t find a heartbeat with the doppler, I think the idea started to form in my head, but I wasn’t quite ready…I remember the doctor’s face as he said the words, “I’m sorry.” My next memory is of someone screaming. It was me.

Miranda holding Adrian's elephant in a park in California. It is a sunny afternoon. Miranda is wearing a white shirt and pink cardigan and smiling. (Sarah Perry Photography)

Miranda’s Story

My name is Miranda Hernandez. I am a single mother by choice. My son Adrian passed away on 29 June 2017, and was stillborn the following day. I will love and honor him for the rest of my life.

Pacific Ocean - Feature

014 – Thu, Jun 29, 2017 at 6:53 PM

I don’t understand it, little one. I don’t understand how you could be here, and then not. I don’t understand how you’re still in my belly, but you’re already gone. I don’t understand how the world makes sense anymore. I never got to hold you, and I miss you so much. My heart is broken.

Close up on Adrian James in the hospital. Adrian is wearing an elephant onesie and cap, and is holding a monkey lovey (Mama Razzi Photography)

Adrian’s Story

Adrian James Hernandez was stillborn on 30 June 2017 due to complications from undiagnosed preeclampsia. He was 9lb, 0oz; 22 in long and perfectly formed. He is forever loved, and forever missed.

Explore more of Adrian's Elephant

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