In Memory of ⚓️ David Adam Siggins ⚓️

To live your entire life, every second of it, surrounded by people who love you… To take your first and last breaths held gently, lovingly, and tearfully in your family’s arms… To pass from this world without ever having experienced it outside of the delivery room… 

My first son David’s story began in early 2014. After being a very involved aunt to my nieces and nephews, completing my master’s degree, getting married, and establishing my career, it was finally my turn. I was going to be a mom. And I could not wait.

My son’s and my journey took a turn from excited anticipation to cautious optimism after his anatomy scan at around 22 weeks. His stomach and other lower abdominal organs were in his chest cavity because his diaphragm hadn’t formed fully. He had a birth defect known as a congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH). We don’t know what causes CDH, but the birth defect caused serious anatomical issues in that first trimester. We could only monitor and hope for the best at that point.

After David’s fetal MRI results, cautious optimism turned to something approaching despair. We found out that with those abdominal organs in his chest, his lungs had failed to develop properly. He would not be able to breathe once they cut his umbilical cord. Without lungs, my son wouldn’t be able to live once the tenuous link between us was cut; his blood that I was able to oxygenate through his umbilical cord wouldn’t be able to keep him alive on his own. 

We made the decision no one should ever have to make: Allow the doctors to strive to gain him at most a month of life in a NICU with surgeries, painful procedures, and isolation, or allow him to pass in as peaceful a setting as possible. We chose palliative care.

For 22 days, from the day I got his fatal diagnosis until the day he was born, the two of us existed in a bubble together. I knew the life inside me had a definitive end point, yet I treasured every kick he gave me. That feeling of closeness that I wouldn’t experience again until I bore my second son seven years later was a blend of peace and sorrow, of joy and the most profound despair imaginable.

David Adam Siggins was born on October 16, 2014 at 6:05pm. After 36 weeks gestation he weighed five and a half pounds. He took a few breaths. He gave a couple of whimpers. He peed on the doctor. His heart stopped beating in his tiny chest after 42 minutes. He was held the entirety of his life and all he ever knew was love.

The doctor told me I had a rough road ahead of me. I struggled for almost a year alone. I tried attending a grief group, but when I got to the hospital the meeting had been cancelled. A nurse I had asked for directions to the meeting asked me if I was a Christian. When I said yes, she gave me a box she had in her office. I still have that box. It contained some thoughtful comfort items, a Bible, and introduced me to a group of ladies that changed my grief journey forever.

️What Is Hope Mommies?

Hope Mommies is a Christ-centered nonprofit that comforts and connects moms who have experienced miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss.

Help Us Give 900 Hope Boxes

This year, our Dallas and Fort Worth Chapters are working together to distribute 900 Hope Boxes to more than 30 hospitals.

Each box costs about $60 and is provided completely free of charge to hospitals and clinics in our area to reach grieving moms. But we need your help to make that possible.

Will You Partner With Us?

Your gift provides more than just a box. It gives a grieving mom:

• A tangible reminder that her baby is remembered
• A connection to a supportive community
• Resources to grieve with hope in Christ

Please donate today and share this page with others. Every dollar helps us reach more hurting families with comfort, truth, and love.

Our story isn’t over. And neither is theirs.

Thank you for your support.