Baby Maxwell "Max" Eichhorn by NILMDTS Affiliated Photographer Jenn Haley

On March 4th, 2024, we found out we were expecting our second child. Our first born, Frankie, was just 11 months old. My husband, Frank, and I were so excited to have our children close in age and to watch them grow up together. My entire pregnancy was typical and uneventful. The only concern came during the 20-week anatomy scan when we learned that the baby had fetal renal pyelectasis. The measurements were slightly off, and the condition was noted again during a follow-up scan at 28 weeks. However, the doctors reassured us that this was extremely common during pregnancy and nothing to worry about. We continued counting down the days, eagerly anticipating our new arrival.

As we got closer to the due date, we started preparing the nursery. The furniture was all set up, but we hadn’t yet decorated, as we still didn’t know the baby’s gender.

The evening of September 23rd was just like any other. The baby was moving around a lot, as usual, especially after I had my snacks. Frank even felt the baby moving that night, just like he had countless times before. Little did we know, this would be the last time we’d feel those familiar, joyful movements.

In the early morning of September 24th, I was woken up by an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach. It wasn’t painful, but it was enough to keep me awake, wondering what was going on.

My stomach felt hard, and I thought to myself, I’m only 33 weeks; this can’t be early labor.

My husband, Frank, was getting ready for work and noticed I was up and walking around. He thought it was a little odd but assumed I was just going to the bathroom. He left for work, and our son Frankie, who was 17 months old at the time, was still sound asleep.

I tried to get comfortable but couldn’t, so I got up to use the bathroom again—just 45 minutes after waking up. That’s when I knew something was terribly wrong. Blood started pouring out of me into the toilet. My heart raced, and I immediately began calling my husband, my mom—anyone who could come help. It had only been about four minutes since the bleeding started, but I was losing consciousness, and I knew I couldn’t wait for anyone to get to me in time. I had to call 911.

The ambulance ride was only 20 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. The EMT kept telling me that I was just in labor and would have a baby today, but deep down, I knew she was wrong. I was experiencing the worst pain of my entire life—worse than the unmedicated childbirth I had with Frankie.

I arrived at the hospital just 45 minutes after the bleeding started, still alone, and was rushed up to the labor and delivery floor.

As soon as I was settled in the room, nurses and doctors flooded in, trying to figure out what was happening. They placed the heart rate monitor on my stomach and began searching for a heartbeat. I knew, in that moment, something was terribly wrong. I looked at the nurse and asked, “There’s no heartbeat, is there?” A doctor then attempted to find it but couldn’t.

That’s when I was told, “I’m so sorry, there is no heartbeat.”

I immediately called my husband, who was just in the hospital lobby on his way up. Then I called my mom, who was parking in the hospital lot.

Both my husband and my mom stayed with me as the nurses and doctors rushed around, trying to place an IV. My veins were so small that it took over 20 attempts to get one in. I sat there, closing my eyes, constantly asking for pain medication, but I had to wait until they could draw my blood. Then, I saw my doctor, Dr. Martin, walk into the room. A sense of relief washed over me, knowing I would be in her hands.

I asked her to tell us the baby’s gender, and there, with my husband and mom by my side, we found out we had another son.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they got the IV placed and the labs came back. I was quickly rushed to the operating room, feeling as though I might not make it. That’s when a nurse named Ashley grabbed my hand and whispered, “You’re going to be okay.”

Forty-five minutes later, the nurses brought our baby boy to the room where my husband and mom waited. That’s when Frank knew his name: Maxwell James Eichhorn. They held him, loved him, and even had him baptized while still waiting for me to come out of surgery.

Baby Maxwell "Max" Eichhorn by NILMDTS Affiliated Photographer Jenn Haley

I woke up in the ICU after needing a massive blood transfusion (10 units of blood products) and losing one of my fallopian tubes during surgery due to going into DIC. We than found out the cause for all of the bleeding and Max’s death was a complete placenta abruption, with no explanation to what caused the abruption.

I was still very out of it, but my family told me that, when they removed the ventilator, I immediately woke up, searching for Max. They said I had tears in my eyes and understood that he had passed. 

We spent the next 30 precious hours with Max, holding him, creating memories, and allowing family members to meet him. My sister had mentioned that a friend of hers was a photographer and could come take pictures. At first, I wasn’t sure about it, but ultimately, we decided to go ahead. Looking back, it was one of the best decisions we ever made.

Now, we have beautiful portraits of Max and our family that we will cherish forever. We’ve hung them in the nursery, which is now decorated, and in our family room. I look at these photos every day, and they serve as a constant reminder of Max’s precious details. Our son, Frankie, sees these photos and says, “Max,” and we tell him it's his little brother.

We are so incredibly thankful for Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep and all the volunteers who selflessly give their time to capture these moments. The portraits of Max are something we will hold dear for the rest of our lives.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a dedicated 501(c)(3) non-profit, offers families experiencing pregnancy and infant loss with complimentary remembrance portraits, capturing precious moments with their babies. Your generous donation can help us extend this heartfelt service to more families in need. Please consider supporting us here.