I remember the moment Taylor told me she was pregnant with Kane like it was yesterday. She was sitting on the couch, calm and quiet, with the test tucked into her pocket. Then she casually pulled it out. I stared at it and asked, “Are you serious???” She looked at me and asked if I was mad. I laughed and said, “How could I be mad? I’m going to be a dad!”
It was easily the happiest day of my life. I was beyond excited to become a father. A few months later, we found out the gender, and when we learned we were having a boy, I could hardly believe it. I started picturing everything I wanted to do with him—watching hockey and football together, playing hockey, taking him hunting. I was ready for all of it.
Then came the morning in July that I will never forget. I had just gotten home after working a 12-hour shift at the mill. Taylor and I talked for a bit, and I asked how she was feeling and how the baby was doing. She mentioned her back hurt a little, but neither of us thought much of it. She was planning to go shopping that morning, so I went to bed and slept for a few hours.
I woke up to Taylor yelling my name from the bathroom. I jumped out of bed and ran in to find her kneeling by the toilet, blood on the floor. I had no idea what was happening. Stillbirth hadn’t even crossed my mind—it was such a foreign concept to me. I honestly thought she might be in some kind of strange labor. I was new to all of this, and my mind was racing through every possible scenario.
I tried to stay calm and asked if we should call an ambulance. Taylor said, “We need to get to the hospital, and quick.” We jumped into the car, and I put the pedal to the floor. The hospital was about 45 minutes away, but I think we made it in 25. As I drove, I kept asking how she was feeling. She said she hurt all over and couldn’t feel any kicking. I kept reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, even though I didn’t know if it was true.
Inside, I was terrified. Fear was the strongest emotion, but I didn’t want Taylor to see that. I stayed as calm as I could so she wouldn’t panic.
When we arrived at the hospital, I ran inside looking for help. We were taken up to the maternity ward—at least I think that’s what it’s called. You’d think I’d know better now since we have three kids. They got Taylor into a room and started running tests. Everything felt like a blur. She had lost a lot of blood and was close to passing out.
At one point she said, “Get a nurse in the room!” I spotted the call button—thankfully big and red—and pressed it. A nurse rushed in and took over.
After what felt like forever, they brought in an ultrasound machine to check for a heartbeat. We still didn’t know what was happening. I was unbelievably nervous. After a minute, the nurse looked up at us and said, “I can’t find a heartbeat.” In that instant, my entire world stopped. I couldn’t process the words. We had waited so long for Kane, dreamed of holding him and watching him grow—and suddenly it was all gone. I completely broke down. I had tried so hard to be strong for Taylor, but all I could do was cry.
Taylor and I held each other, trying to make sense of the impossible. How could this happen? Why us? We made it through his birth, and all I wanted was to see him. A small part of me hoped the doctors were wrong, that somehow he would still be alive. Through it all, we leaned on each other. I remember telling her, “I love you so much. One day, we’ll be able to make sense of this.” I truly believe this experience bonded us. It tested us in ways nothing else ever had, and somehow we came out stronger. It showed me just how strong Taylor really was—she fought through everything and supported me, even while carrying so much pain herself.
Having Kane was both the happiest and hardest experience of my life. He was absolutely beautiful. Holding him was indescribable. I studied every detail of him because I never wanted to forget a single thing. My heart was so full knowing I got to hold my little boy. At the same time, it was devastating to know that later that day would be the last time I would ever hold him.
Looking back, I wouldn’t change anything. I have no regrets. I tried to cope by pretending things could go back to normal, which I later learned doesn’t work. There was a new normal now. We were surrounded by incredible support from friends and coworkers who genuinely cared and checked in on us. Knowing we weren’t alone helped more than I can explain.
When we got home after having Kane, I tried my best to be a rock for Taylor, but it was incredibly hard. This is something no one can prepare you for. To any man reading this who may go through something similar—please be there for your partner. I missed moments with Taylor when she needed me the most. She needed me more than I needed her, and I didn’t always realize it. I didn’t ask the right questions. All I had to do was ask and listen.
I tried to force life back to what I thought was normal and missed chances to truly support her. This kind of loss is delicate. It requires two people showing up for each other, listening, and talking. I won’t sugarcoat it—nothing is ever the same after something like this. You take it day by day. You learn to roll with the punches. And along the way, you discover just how strong you really are.
