My 5th pregnancy was unplanned (actually we were actively trying not to get pregnant and are still very confused how he came about lol) but so wanted and so loved. It had been my hardest pregnancy yet. I was sick with flu-like symptoms most of the days starting at 6ish weeks. I actually think I only started feeling better once I had lost him but I was blissfully unaware. It was the week before a very exciting Disney trip when I started to feel concerned. I laid down on the bed and took this picture:
My belly always looks like this when I lay down while pregnant so this was reassuring that everything was okay. My concerns were so so minimal and the kind of thing that every pregnant woman experiences occasionally. I was 16 weeks at this point and still early enough that kick counts weren’t quite something valid. I decided I was fine.
We left for Disney and had the most incredible trip. The whole time I was there I still had concerns, but every time I would lay and beg for the baby to just move or kick, I’d feel something. Every single time. It was PLENTY to convince me that everything was fine. I know now that that was the kindness of the Lord. The baby was gone ever since my original concern but there was nothing that could’ve been done. It’s clear to me that the Lord gave me those flutters and feelings to give us that incredible trip before we had to find out. We love Disney and we go a few times a year but this trip was special, more than normal. We all felt it. I skipped all the best rides and took all the belly pictures and I’m so grateful that we didn’t know.
We got home on Saturday and lived normal life for Sunday and Monday, still thinking everything was fine. I was 18 weeks pregnant at this point. Tuesday morning was horrible and I don’t know why. I was RAGING mad over tiny things. My kids had homeschool co-op that morning and I was a nightmare trying to get out the door. After co-op, I took them to get frozen yogurt to apologize for how I acted that morning and make sure they knew that pregnancy hormones or not, that wasn’t okay. After that, we went home and I took a nap which was the norm for me. I had to nap every single day through his pregnancy. When I woke up from his nap, I felt concerned again. I laid there and just internally said “please kick me” for a while. This time, there was nothing. I laid longer. Nothing. So I turned on my back to take another belly picture like I had before we left. While standing, I still had a belly like all the pictures from Disney but here’s those two laying down pictures side by side:
I’ll never forget that feeling. 💔 In the Lord’s perfect timing, it was time for me to find out.
I texted my midwife my concerns and sent her the picture. She was actually over an hour away helping her dad but left what she was doing to come to my house. I actually hadn’t met her in person yet. It took me a while to choose a midwife and I had originally chosen someone else. Then a friend casually mentioned that we have a midwife that goes to our church and I was baffled. I had no idea but didn’t think it mattered since I had already chosen mine. I decided to have a FaceTime meeting just to chat and hung up that call knowing this was my midwife. My first appointment with her should’ve been Friday, but instead she came to my house that Tuesday.
Patrick took the kids shopping just in case. Deep down, I knew. And even still I know that we both assumed this would just confirm that everything was fine.
It didn’t.
Everything was not fine.
There was no heartbeat. My midwife wanted me to go to the ER to get an ultrasound to confirm but I declined. There was nothing they could do so it made more sense to me to wait until the next day and go in for an ultrasound not through the ER. I was supposed to be heading to pottery class with two of my best friends so they were already on standby to see if we were going. I let them know there was no heartbeat and in moments, they were both in my living room. Patrick had the kids still shopping and we decided that since they would usually be asleep before I got home from pottery anyway, that I would still leave with my friends and he would get them to sleep and we wouldn’t say anything until it was confirmed. We’d spend the night hoping for a miracle.
My friends took me to the beach and there was so many conflicting feelings. I knew the baby was gone. And also, I wanted to believe they’d check tomorrow and be confused on why we thought that. Im so thankful for that time at the beach with my people that believed with me and covered me. I got home from the beach and cried, believed, and slept.
The next morning, my friends took my kids to work with them which was SO EXCITING to my kids. They barely even had questions because they were so excited to get to go. They knew we had a baby appointment and that’s all they cared to know. They left and we got in the car.
Back track to getting home from Disney, that Sunday I noticed some adorable purple flowers on our sweet potatoes. They were so cute that I sent a picture to my friends. That was before we knew. Now on Wednesday, we were driving to the ultrasound and on the side of the road multiple times, we saw purple flowers. We get to the ultrasound and they confirmed the worst. He was gone and he had been gone since about 16.5 weeks. Likely right around when I took that first belly picture and originally had concerns.
We had never had a miscarriage before on any level. The feeling was indescribable. Like the rug was pulled from beneath us. I didn’t even quite comprehend that miscarriages really happened this far into pregnancy. Obviously I knew they did but I always thought of them as a first trimester thing. Once you made it to second trimester, you’re supposed to be good to go. Wrong.
We drove home in silence and tears and worship music. More purple flowers. We also heard a worship song for the first time ever on that trip called Surrounded by Holy that would become an anthem for us for the season coming.
I had placenta previa and I was far into the second trimester which meant I’d have to deliver in a hospital instead of letting it pass at home. Both placenta previa and being second trimester raised the risk of hemorrhage so I agreed to go in. We could not decide if it was better to stop and update the kids and ruin their incredibly fun day but be able to give them hugs or just wait and let them enjoy their day and go to dance and taekwondo and play with their friends before telling them. We decided it would be better to just allow them to have the day. I couldn’t fathom telling them, watching them shatter to pieces, and then leaving them. It made more sense to let them continue having the best day ever so that’s what we did. My incredible friends made sure they had so much fun and I am so thankful for that more than they will ever know.
We went home to pack a bag for the hospital and I went to the backyard to just sit. There were new purple flowers that weren’t there before. It was so evident that all these purple flowers were from the Lord just for this. I didn’t pack a single thing, I don’t even remember moving from that spot until Patrick let me know a bag was packed. I didn’t care what was packed or what was brought. He handled all of it and made sure to grab everything we might need. He’s the best, truly.
We got to the hospital and did all the hospital things and got in a room and started the induction. I am a home birth, natural birth kinda girl so this was everything I did not want and it felt even worse that it wasn’t going to end in the bringing home of a baby. Honestly, the entire experience feels like a fever dream. I am so grateful that my midwife joined us. She handled every phone call, question, truly everything. She was absolutely a God send. We had started the induction medicine but nothing was happening yet. My kids were all done with their afternoon activities and were all back together so we decided it was a good time to make the worst FaceTime call ever.
While I don’t regret letting them enjoy the rest of that day, I hated that FaceTime more than words can say. Having to tell them when we couldn’t hold them was horrible. They answered the phone as if we were surprising them with something. We never leave them for a whole day like that but we are pretty frequent surprisers and when they answered the phone, I could tell they were anticipating whatever that surprise was. “Is it twins?!” Was what my oldest said. The rest of them all lit up as if they hadn’t considered that yet. It was crushing. We told them he was gone and that I had to stay in the hospital that night to give birth. We had to watch through a screen as they fell apart with their friends (who I’m so glad they had there with them during this). That night, my friends filled a gap that I never imagined I’d need them to fill and they carried my kids through all of that while we couldn’t be there.
We hung up the phone and it still took a while for anything to happen. Eventually, labor started and we did what we always do. I breathe and hum through contractions and Patrick talks me through it. He’s been the most incredible brith partner every single time but this was different. You have to push the grief aside to get through contractions. You cannot both cry and breathe through the pain. He had me, reminding me to lower my tone and soften my face. Labor lasted about an hour and a half and then he was here. We didn’t know he was a he until that moment. No nurses, no doctors, no one but us in the room to welcome him and I’m so glad. For a second, it was just us and a really thin veil between heaven and earth.
Everest Ardwynn Murray — 10/1/2025
Holding your baby that is already being held by Jesus is an unimaginable experience. Meeting a child that you’ll never actually get to meet on this side of eternity is something there aren’t enough words for. Doing skin to skin for a baby that can’t be comforted by your warmth is never how it was meant to be. Everyone we encountered in that hospital was so incredibly nice. There were probably 8 of them that flooded the room for who knows why but they all gave us space, stayed silent, shed tears that they tried to hide, and just let us be. They took hand prints and foot prints and even some little hospital pictures. We got a keepsake box that had a few items that meant so much to us and still do to this day.
We kept him with us through the whole night. I slept with him on my chest for a lot of the night, so thankful for the little body that once held him and would’ve been him in a perfect world. I’m thankful I was able to sleep, but waking up in the morning and remembering what was happening was a horrible experience. Having conversations about cremation or burial felt like being in the twilight zone. I had never anticipated having conversations like this and suddenly I was discussing pretty boxes to hold ashes in or funeral homes that are better for handling babies. The first time we thought they were about to release us to go home, I had the first panic attack of my life. Patrick was there reminding me how to breathe. He gave me breath when I had none and I couldn’t have done any of this without him. I had spent the entire morning begging them to get us out of there and get back to our kids as soon as possible and then when the time came, I couldn’t imagine leaving. How do you give birth to a child and then leave the hospital without them? That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Patrick said his goodbyes and left to get the van. For a few minutes, it was just me and him. My baby boy. Baby Everest. I know all the little nicknames we would’ve used that we won’t now. Every fiber of my being was made for motherhood. I knew that more in that moment than ever before. Everything in me cried to keep him near. He was meant to belong to me. To have French toast on Christmas morning. To sit around the table at tea time asking for me to read one more chapter. He was meant to come with us to Disney and meltdown when he got overtired. And now it was all very real that none of that was going to happen. It was time to walk away, get into the van, and leave him behind.
That drive home was the heaviest, most painful experience. Patrick and I both in tears like never before. Ready to hold our babies but crushed to leave behind the one that never got to come home.
We finally made it home to our four sweet, incredible babies that were just as ready to see us as we were to see them. All the hugs and tears that were just the beginning of a really dark, difficult season. Grieving with kids is a ballgame all of its own. Managing your own grief while also managing theirs. Knowing when to let yourself grieve and when to push it aside because they need you to.
The hospital told us we could decide what to do with the body and call them when we knew. We really really wanted him to bury him at home, it was the only thing that felt right. The hospital had already told us that wasn’t an option but with the help of an incredible friend, we found a funeral home that would handle the transfer for us and allow us to pick him up from them. Patrick’s biggest struggle through this whole thing was driving to that funeral home to pick up his son. He picked him up and we realized that the hospital, who knew nothing about purple or purple flowers, had put him in the most precious purple container. 💜
We had always wanted to plant an orange tree when we bought a house one day. We actually had just bought our first home in August and had discussed getting an orange tree already. My granny had an orange tree in her yard and when our two oldest were little, we would pick oranges from her tree on Christmas morning and make orange juice. Burying him under an orange tree and letting him be a part of Christmas every year just felt right. So that’s what we did. We had a pumpkin painting party scheduled for that Friday with our friends and decided to still have it. We buried him, just the 6 of us, Friday morning and then had our friends over that night. We all took a minute around the orange tree and played the song from the drive after the ultrasound while they all prayed over us — Surrounded By Holy. 🤍 I almost didn’t do the orange tree moment because I thought it would be stupid but I’m so glad I did. And then we all painted pumpkins like we had planned. My friends brought pumpkin themed dinner and snacks like they knew I had originally wanted and it was a really special night. The way they love us is unmatched.
The people that showed up for us in that season were innumerable. Meal train, deliveries from Louisiana, etched wind-chimes, bracelets with the letter “E,” the purple flower tattoo on my arm paid for by my brother, and beyond and beyond. I have a list on my phone of every single person and every single thing that was given to us or done for us. I have absolutely kept a record of that and will never forget a single one. I’ve never been more aware of how incredible and beautiful the community we have is.
The Lord has been so near through this whole experience. He has never left our side and that has been so incredibly evident through this whole thing. He has made sure to reveal himself to us constantly. He has been our biggest comfort in a way I cannot even describe.
There’s so much more I could say. The grief journey. The return to society and the anxiety that comes with it. The breastmilk dilemma. The churro latte and the tulsi rose herbal tea that will always remind me of him. Walking a child through losing a baby they dreamed of. The yellow butterflies. Truly so much more I could say. But Everest’s story doesn’t really end anyway because we are forever changed by him. In my grieving, I picked up a paintbrush and I’m still painting. Emersyn picked up a pen and she’s still writing. She writes to him every single day, without fail. One of the things she wrote in the early days wrecked me and it’s what I’ll end all of this with:
10/5/25
Dear Everest,
Today we are gonna bury you. I’m not ready though, but I’ve realized I’ll never be ready to say goodbye. But I know Jesus is stronger than the mightiest storms and I can trust him. I’ve been thinking about your name and I’ve realized that to me it means Ever Rest. So rest my sweet little Everest Ardwynn. I love you! Love your sister, Emersyn
Christmas morning orange juice 🧡
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