Our Story
A day before leaving for our babymoon to the Grand Cayman Islands, our world was shattered during what we believed would be a routine doctor’s appointment. Expecting only a glucose test, we instead learned that our daughter, Emersyn Rose, no longer had a heartbeat.
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Our doctor shared that in decades of practice, this was the first time they had encountered a miscarriage at 24 weeks with no underlying signs or causes. Emersyn had met every milestone, and her anatomy scan had been perfect. In an instant, we felt lost—unsure where to turn or what to do next—and we withdrew from the outside world and our support system as we tried to process the unimaginable.
Yet despite these sacred moments, our environment was incredibly difficult. Alongside the isolation of navigating new parenthood through stillbirth, we were sleep-deprived and surrounded by the sounds of healthy, crying babies, fetal heart monitors, and a construction project directly above us. It was overwhelming and deeply painful.
Because there is no way to prepare a “delivery bag” for a moment like this, we began asking ourselves: How can we help others who find themselves here?
That question became the beginning of the Emersyn Rose Foundation. Our mission is to provide subtle but meaningful reminders—through beautifully dried roses—that say you are not alone, and to equip Nashville-area hospitals with noise-canceling machines to bring added comfort and calm to parents experiencing similar loss. Anything that can help make the limited time with their beautiful child a little gentler.
We hope our story brings comfort to those navigating these unforeseen and heartbreaking circumstances. We want parents to know that even if they need space at first, they are never alone—there is an entire community of stillborn parents ready to support them. Though it took time for Chelsea and I to find resources, we were overwhelmed by the love shown through our community, the books and support shared, and the mothers who had walked this path before us and reached back to help.
I pray that no parent ever has to endure this pain. But if they do, I pray our journey helps mend a broken heart and offers reassurance that our little ones are together—keeping each other company in heaven.
One of the hardest decisions we faced was how Emersyn would come into the world and what steps would follow her arrival—choices no parent should ever have to consider. As a husband, my greatest priority was protecting my wife both physically and emotionally. She had carried our baby girl for 25 weeks, holding her close every moment. We were faced with the decision between a DNC or induction of labor. Choosing a DNC would have meant we would never physically meet Emersyn. Induction was our only chance to meet her, hold her, and spend time with her—no matter how brief that time might be.
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After nine hours of induced labor, Emersyn entered our world, born asleep. She was the most beautiful person we had ever laid eyes on. We were blessed to spend an entire day and night with her—holding her, smelling her, memorizing every detail until our eyes were dry. We played our favorite songs for her and watched our favorite Christmas movies together (A Christmas Story and The Grinch). We were able to obtain her foot and hand prints, take photos, AND bring home swaddles, hats, and memories of our precious girl. We did everything we could to make our short time with her meaningful and full of love.
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