By Kristin Maerke
Mommy to Wilder
Stillbirth due to an umbilical cord accident
July 2018
After seven years of infertility, my husband and I were thrilled to welcome our oldest daughter, Magnolia. She was a complete surprise — something we had been hoping and praying for, but never guaranteed. We knew there was a chance we’d never conceive, and her arrival felt like a dream. My pregnancy and delivery with her were typical, and we sleepily settled into life as a new family of three.
Shortly after Magnolia’s first birthday, we were even more surprised to learn we were expecting again — this time, a baby boy.
Our years of infertility taught us what a gift children truly are, and we were overwhelmed with gratitude that our family was growing again.
At 30 weeks, I came down with a high fever, which elevated the baby’s heart rate. I spent two weeks in and out of the hospital, but eventually, things seemed to stabilize. We believed everything would be okay.
Then came July 4, 2018.
We were getting ready for a holiday party when I realized something felt “off.” I tried to remember the last time I had felt the baby move. Just to ease our fears, we decided to stop by Labor and Delivery for a quick check. When we arrived, we heard the words no parent ever wants to hear:
“I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.”
It was my worst fear come true. The world seemed to stop. Everything that followed was a blur of decisions — none of them felt right. In the midst of that heartbreak, my brother Ryan, who was volunteering as a photographer with On Angels’ Wings at the time, encouraged us to allow OAW to come and take photos after our baby’s delivery. I wasn’t sure I could face it, but the photographers were so kind, so compassionate. They helped me see our situation with new eyes and gently encouraged me to hold and care for my son.
Stillbirth was a life-changing event for our entire household. It taught us that every single day is a gift. We’ve learned we don’t need anything fancy to create incredible memories. We speak more kindly now. We forgive faster. We listen more and judge less. We’ve also grown in compassion for others walking similar paths.
Seven years later, we have “caught our breath.” And while we will always grieve what was lost, we’re thankful for how God has shaped our hearts through that grief. It’s hard to imagine a life without the perspective and hope that stillbirth has brought me. And it’s even harder to imagine a life where I never got to love my son — even if it was only for a moment.
In 2020, we welcomed our second daughter, our rainbow baby. Trying again was a leap of faith, but one I’m so glad we made. My biggest hope now is that our family can be a source of encouragement to others — a reminder to hold tight to what is good, and to let go of the bitterness, jealousy, and anger that so often tangle us in early grief. There is hope and joy still to be found in this life.
The pictures that OAW provided after Wilder’s stillbirth are treasures we’ll never be able to fully express our gratitude for. In the fog of grief, I’m not sure how many photos I would have said I wanted. But now, each one captures a moment I will forever cherish.
OAW also took beautiful maternity photos when I was pregnant with our second daughter. That was a time filled with anxiety, where every day was a quiet prayer for safety. Those images captured the joy and hope I so desperately needed. They remind me of the light that can exist even in fear.
Through On Angels’ Wings, I’ve connected with other families who understand this journey. The butterfly releases, the photo sessions, the Making Memories Day events — they’ve given us the opportunity to check in with others who are also growing through grief. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
Even now, the photos and continued connection help us feel supported. We know we are not alone. And I know — with full confidence — that if I ever needed support again, there are people I could call. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date, and neither has the gift that OAW continues to be in our lives.
To anyone considering reaching out to OAW: you won’t regret it. There are no expectations, only gifts and memories given. Come and join a community that understands. You may only see their journeys through pictures at first, but every smile you witness — from people who’ve walked the same path — will encourage your heart.
