Millie, Our Little Fighter

On April 24th, our world changed forever... we lost our baby girl, Millie.

There are moments in life where everything stops. Time doesn’t actually freeze, but your world does. On April 24th, our world changed forever... we lost our baby girl, Millie, through a miscarriage.

It’s not easy to talk about losing a child to miscarriage. Honestly, there’s no perfect way to share something like this. But the truth is, life is sacred. Life in the womb is sacred. And after experiencing this, I’m even more convicted of that truth.

Psalm 139:13-14 says, “For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Millie was fearfully and wonderfully made. She wasn’t a clump of cells. She wasn’t a medical anomaly. She was our daughter... our little fighter. She lived longer than our midwife, doctors and specialists said she would. And that matters.

Krysten's Kitchen

has already shared some of our journey, which you can read here, and if you’ve read it, you know this wasn’t just a one-day event. It was a process of heartbreak, uncertainty, and prayer. We were already well into the second trimester. We had hopes, plans, names... and then it was gone.

Grief is not linear. There are days where we laugh with our son and feel life rushing through our home. And then there are quiet moments where the weight hits again. That’s the nature of loss... it doesn’t ask permission. It just comes and goes.

What’s been overwhelmingly clear through all of this is how precious life is. Every breath, every heartbeat, is a miracle. We live in a culture that treats life, especially in the womb, as disposable. But as Christians, we know better. Life begins at conception. It is God-breathed.

Krysten and I have grieved differently. She’s poured her heart out in writing and shared the deep wound that will never fully heal. I’ve processed much of it silently, carrying the weight of a father who lost his little girl before ever getting to hold her. But through it all, our faith has been our anchor. Jesus never promised an easy road. He promised “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

And even now, in the pain, He is here.

Our son, who just turned three, has been a constant source of light. He doesn’t understand the depth of it all, but his laughter echoes through our home and reminds us that joy still exists. He gave Krysten one of his green aliens to comfort her during a doctor’s appointment. That small gesture was love in its purest form.

Millie was real. She mattered. She still does. And we will always remember her.

I know many families go through this kind of pain in silence. Just remember that if you’re one of those families… you're not alone.

For us, life continues. We laugh. We cry. We move forward... not because we’ve forgotten, but because we carry her with us. Millie is part of our family’s story. And we hold to the hope of Heaven, where we will one day be reunited with her. That’s not just wishful thinking... that’s the promise God made to us as Christians.

Thank you for your prayers and your support. It means more than you know.

We love you, Millie. We’ll see you soon.

You can read Krysten’s story here:

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