Noah James Roberts

For years, we longed to expand our family from three to four. Our son, Benjamin, had been asking to be a big brother since he was barely two. We endured multiple miscarriages, failed IVF cycles, and a diagnosis of endometriosis before finally becoming pregnant with Noah.

After all we’d been through, my pregnancy with Noah was the happiest time of our lives. This little baby, growing so perfectly, brought a joy that was palpable. Benjamin would talk endlessly about all the things he planned to do with Noah once he arrived. He was already the best big brother. The three of us imagined a perfect life as four.

My pregnancy was fairly normal. I didn’t feel great, but everything looked perfect, every scan, every check-up. On the night of December 10th, I went to bed as usual. The next morning, I woke up in a panic. I was used to Noah kicking through the night, he would often wake me. But that morning, he hadn’t. He wasn’t moving. We rushed to the hospital, where we heard the words that shattered our world: I’m so sorry, there’s no heartbeat.

Everything came crashing down. We couldn’t understand how our perfectly healthy baby could just suddenly die. Nothing made sense. We had fought through so much heartache to bring Noah into our lives. How could he be taken from us?

On December 12, 2024, Noah was born silently, but perfectly, at 36 weeks gestation. He was the most beautiful baby and looked just like his big brother. We held him with all the love in the world, but left the hospital with only a box of memories.

Despite extensive testing, there is no known cause for Noah’s death. As a medical professional myself, that has been especially hard to accept. I am used to finding answers. But for this, there are none.

As a family, we now do our best to honor Noah and keep his memory alive. His big brother, 5 and a half at the time of Noah’s death, now 6, still speaks about him several times a day. The days are not easy, but we have survived the early grief together, and with the help of family, friends, and love.

Noah, we love you more than words can ever say. I hope you can feel our love wherever you are. Keep sending us signs that you’re with us. Rest peacefully, my sweet boy.