Henry’s Preventable Stillbirth

I loved being pregnant with my son, Henry. We couldn’t wait to meet him and will always love and miss him.

Every American will remember the year 2020. The sacrifices we made, the inconveniences we endured, and the collective grief of a global pandemic. 

I remember 2020 as the only year my firstborn child existed. I discovered that I was pregnant a week before Christmas. Although it was early we decided to surprise our families during our holiday celebrations. I knew the risk of miscarriage, but we were so excited we decided to tell them anyway.

I reached 13 weeks and breathed a sigh of relief. We made it. I was in the “safety zone” and my healthy textbook pregnancy would end in a healthy, living, baby boy.

Or so I naively thought. 

I did not know that 65 babies are stillborn every single day in the US. I did not know that a healthy pregnancy could end in death. I never knew how to monitor my baby’s movement and when to speak up. I trusted a broken system. 

On July 1st we were devastated to learn that Henry Justice Felker had died in my womb. We joined over 21,000 families whose babies died before birth that same year.

I was one day shy of 32 weeks gestation and I now had to decide how I would deliver my dead child. I delivered him via c-section that night. At 11:30pm my perfect 4 pound 1 ounce son was born. We held him. We cried with him. We waited for the sunrise together. Then, we said goodbye. 

That tiny baby boy has changed my life. He continues to bring me so much joy. From the moment I saw his face and held his body, I was in love. He had his father’s nose and my lanky feet. 

The cruelties you endure after delivering a stillborn baby are endless. Hours after my c-section, with my son still in the room, an unknown social services worker described the autopsy procedure in horrific detail. We had to choose whether we would bury or cremate our son, and what funeral home we would like him to be sent to. We were given useless stacks of paper with outdated information. My doctor quickly explained how to help dry up my milk supply as it would painfully arrive within a few days. We were given no answers as to why my son had died. Just a shrug of the shoulders and a “sometimes this happens, you'll deliver early next time”.

We went home and spent the next month in the darkest place I have ever known. A few weeks after Henry died we got a call from my OB. “Your placenta showed signs of an abruption”. I frantically scoured the internet for placental abruption and screamed into pillows believing it was my own body that killed my son. 

Six months later we got pregnant. I was numb. My new High Risk Doctor explained how they would be monitoring the growth of the baby and therefore the health of the placenta. I trusted her and I trusted my hypervigilant kick counting. At 36 weeks something felt off and my OB rushed in to deliver a perfect 8 pound baby girl. 

Octavia Victory Felker survived my womb. Everything about her is perfect and I will always be proud of her. 

Once I was out of the fog of grief and settling into a rhythm of parenting (if that even exists) I joined PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy. I knew the horrors I had been through and I needed to do anything I could to prevent this from happening to someone else. I learned about the SHINE for Autumn Act and I was determined to help get this important legislation passed. 

At the Big PUSH in Washington D.C. raising awareness about the stillbirth crisis pushing an empty stroller in Henry’s memory.

Octavia was six months old when I decided to finally investigate Henry’s stillbirth. My health history is a little complicated and we wanted more answers for future pregnancies. I reached out to Dr. Harvey Kliman, a placenta expert at Yale who works with PUSH. He discovered that my original placental pathology report was wrong. I never had a placental abruption. Instead, Henry had died from repeated cord compressions. 

Lighting a candle with Henry’s sister during the Wave of Light (every 10/15), which honors all babies gone too soon.

I was angry. Why wasn’t my son’s death important enough to investigate properly? Why were we dissuaded from getting an autopsy? Why did I have to endure an entire pregnancy looking at the placenta when we should have been observing Octavia’s cord?

We recently discovered that my daughter was born with a hypercoiled cord. We never looked at the blood flow within her umbilical cord because we did not know Henry’s true cause of death.

While pregnant with my third child I opted to have a tubal ligation during his c section because I was so terrified. There is no urgency to prevent stillbirth in this country. There is no action plan. 

Our family. Always missing our first son.

The SHINE for Autumn Act is our first step to ending preventable stillbirth in the US. 

Had the SHINE Act passed years ago, I may have received a proper placental pathology report. I may have received information about monitoring movement. My care team may have had the determination to keep my child safe. 

Stillbirth is a tragedy that is often preventable and there is something you can do about it. Visit www.shineforautumnact.org to learn more about how you can join our efforts to get this historic piece of legislation passed and make stillbirth a tragedy of the past.

Written by Henry’s mother, Allie Felker