Grayson Naas

My name is Taylor and I have been with my husband, Ben, for nine years. Three of those years we have been married. We have a son, Beckham, who is two and a half, and our angel son, Grayson, who was born sleeping on July 22, 2021. We have three crazy dogs and both grew up in the Dayton, OH area.

I had a really rough pregnancy with Grayson as I did with my other son, Beckham. I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG), which is a pregnancy condition that causes extreme nausea and vomiting that often causes weight loss, malnutrition, dehydration, etc.

With Grayson I was sick from shortly after my positive pregnancy test at four weeks, until I delivered him. This isn’t normal morning sickness, I had many ER visits, hospital admissions, a medication pump in my belly 24/7, a PICC to give myself IV medications and daily fluids at home, I had a home health nurse out multiple times a week, high risk appointments, etc. It is extremely hard to work, impossible to eat, and mentally challenging to say the least. The only way I got through each and every day was to talk to my little belly and thinking about all that was to come when I brought home my sweet boy in December, or so I thought.

Every appointment was beautiful, his heartbeat was so strong at each and every visit, he was super active and wiggly, and had the cutest little features. On my birthday, July 20, I felt really off. I couldn’t explain it, but something wasn’t right, I always felt bad, but this day I felt especially awful. Nothing could of prepared me for the moment I stepped into my OB office the next day, alone, for a routine 17 week appointment to hear the words “I’m so sorry Taylor, but I don’t see a heartbeat”.

My life has forever been divided, from that moment on, into a before and an after.

I called my husband and told him to meet me at the office, once he got there we discussed our options. I could have a D&E in the OR, or I could be induced to meet him, hold him, and say goodbye. We decided to schedule to be induced a few hours after we found out. We went home to pack our bags, call a few people, said bye to Beckham, and headed to the hospital.

Going to Labor and Delivery is supposed to be a happy experience, you’re supposed to be excited, you’re supposed to enjoy walking through those double doors and hearing them lock behind you knowing the next time you see those doors you’ll be headed home with a baby. Nothing prepares you for knowing the next time you’ll walk out those doors, you’ll no longer be pregnant and you won’t have a baby with you-you’ll have a box. The walk down the hallway into the back corner of the unit felt like eternity. I put on my gown knowing what was to come and just sobbed while doing it. Before the induction could begin, the OB had to confirm that he had no heartbeat.

Once that was over, we started the induction process at 3:30pm on July 21st. After 3 rounds of cytotec, very intense contractions, and a terrible birth experience due to my actual OB not being present, at 2:40am on July 22, 2021, Grayson was born. Every one of my nurses and OB’s that took care of me that day were amazing. To them, thank you for constantly handing me tissues. Thank you to one specific OB for telling me something I really needed to hear and I carry with me every single day-when you told me his heart stopped you said “I’m so sorry” to which I instinctually replied “it’s okay” and started bawling and you went on to say “no, it’s not okay and it’s okay that you’re not okay right now”. Thank you for explaining every bit of what was happening. Thank you for telling me it’s okay to get pain medication and not try to be tough. Thank you for advocating for me when I couldn’t speak. Thank you for always saying his name and not referring to him as the baby. Thank you for taking the most gorgeous pictures of Grayson and creating all the keepsakes. Thank you for coming into my room when I woke up from nightmares and was having panic attacks and saying you’ll stay in there until I fell asleep. Thank you for being there for all the pad changes while I cried knowing it shouldn’t be happening. Thank you for rubbing my back and speaking to me like a human being even when I was losing it and not in my right mind screaming for Grayson after the funeral director took him. With one exception, the staff was amazing there. I will never forget their kindness during the absolute worst moment of my entire life.

This loss has impacted me in so many ways. I have learned that it’s okay to cry out for help, literally cry-scream even. I’ve learned that it’s okay to need that help, even if it’s a lot of help and a lot of leaning on others. I never imagined I would be going through this, no one does, but it’s absolutely life changing. You don’t just mourn the loss of your baby, you mourn the life you thought you would have, the holidays and birthdays you don’t get to spend with them, the first day of school pictures you’ll never get to take, you lose everything with them and that’s a really hard reality to face.

It has changed the way I live my life, who I spend my time with, what I pour my energy into, and so many other things. My life went from counting down the days until I could meet him to counting down the days, weeks, and months without him. Nothing about this is easy, and I’m still not doing well, but I’ve learned that that’s okay to admit that.

The biggest things that has helped me with my grief is connecting with other loss mamas, and keeping his memory alive. He existed, regardless if the world wants to acknowledge that, he did. He’s a part of our lives forever and I will never stop thinking about him, parenting him, talking about him, he’s my child just as much as Beckham is. I am in the beginning stages of creating a project in his honor, but Gifts From Grayson will be dedicated to helping mothers in the Dayton, OH area. Our goal is to provide boxes to families facing this unimaginable loss and having resources easily put together so they don’t have to search for them when it seems impossible to know where to turn.

The best thing someone can do for others facing a similar loss is to simply be there. So often people want to find the perfect thing to say, but I’ll let you in on a little secret, there isn’t anything perfect to say. Nothing will bring their child back, words will likely not comfort them, but you being there and simply saying “I don’t know what to say right now, this absolutely isn’t fair, but I’m here for you and you can talk to me about anything as you’re ready” is extremely helpful. Putting yourself in a position that is undoubtedly uncomfortable to hold space for the other persons grief is so essential to healing. Another huge thing that was helpful was others offering to bring homemade meals, drop off a frozen dinner from the store, or even gift cards to food places. When you are at a place in life where the simplest of tasks such as taking a shower is hard, trying to plan a meal plan is almost unthinkable. I am forever thankful for those meals that I didn’t have to think about so I could focus on my family and my grieving.

The biggest way others can honor our sweet boy Grayson is to include him and remember he was here no matter how brief, his life matters. My husband and I include him in everything we do. He is included in family pictures, his name is signed on cards we give, he has his own stocking, we find ways to remember him and honor him and we just want others to do the same. Don’t be afraid to bring him up in conversation, it makes us more sad when you don’t. We grieve him every single day, we’re always sad in a way and missing a part of us, but knowing others acknowledge his sweet self makes us not feel so misunderstood.

As of now, we’re trying to figure out our traditions because it’s relatively fresh. I know we want to have a party on his birthday like we would any other child, and we also do acts of kindness in his name.