Chrissy, John, Luna, Miles, and JACK

Chrissy, John, Luna, and Miles —

As many have, I have admired you, your beauty, your cooking, your home, your family, your travels, your humor, and your marriage from afar.

I watched your pregnancy with Luna and was so thankful for your transparency on struggling to conceive. I felt connected to you in our suffering and desire to be parents.

I followed your pregnancy with Miles as I sat on bed rest pregnant with my rainbow baby.

I rooted for you as you went through pregnancies because I understood the kind of desire that lives in the hearts of those who have to fight to become parents. It is a desire and empathy that no one can understand unless they have lived it.

When you traveled to Bali as a family when Miles was just a tiny baby, I lived vicariously through you and admired how care free and happy you seemed on the trip and as you nursed that tiny baby all over the World while we both know what it is like to travel with little ones.

As you talked openly about all of the work you put into your marriage and how much effort it takes on a daily basis, I understood and again, I cheered you on.

You posted a picture on Instagram recently getting an ultrasound during your 2020 pregnancy. I stiffened with fear because that is what pregnancy does to me. You emphasized how scary it is to be pregnant and afraid. Again, I understood. I understood in a way that only someone who had trudged through a uncertain pregnancy can understand.

Earlier this week, you so bravely took to your stories to talk about your precious baby boy in your belly and how hard you were fighting to keep him there. You said, “I’m so excited for him.” I understood. I understand.

As I listened, my husband pretended to be all wrapped up in the football game on TV. But as soon as I put my phone down, he took my hand and squeezed it. Because we know. Because we know what it is like to fight with all of your power to keep a baby alive when the deck is stacked really hard against you.

We have been on both sides of that fight. We know what it is like to win and lose that battle.

You have done such an awe-inspiring job showing the World that despite your fame, you are are not immune to the battles that some of us fight everyday.

I have felt connected to you although we are very different.

But, I never intended to be this connected to you.

I never hoped to know you this well.

It is with the deepest sympathy I possess that I hold your hand as you walk the path that I walked before you.

I know what it is like to prepare for labor of a baby who will not survive.

I know what it is like to have your body completely fail you.

I know what it is like to deliver a baby into a room that is cold and quiet.

I know what it is like to hold a baby that is far too small.

I know what it is like to feel the weight of the baby on your chest as the hole in your heart expands.

I know what it is like to see pain you could have never anticipated in the eyes of your husband.

I know what it is like to realize that your family will never be whole on this Earth.

I know what it is like to share such a deeply personal and painful image on social media that people will scroll past as they go through a day that you will never get to forget.

I know what it is like to share something so sensitive that so many people will struggle to understand.

I hate that so many people in your life will not understand the brokenness you feel.

I am so deeply sorry to be this connected to you. I am so sorry to have to welcome you into this club with dues higher than anyone should ever have to pay.

In these moments, I wish I had not just admired you and your transparency from but afar but that I could take away your pain. I wish no one had to walk this path — the one I’ve walked.

You have done such a beautiful job showing the World that despite your fame you are not immune to struggles of humanity. I am so sorry you are not immune to this loss.

I am so sad to share this part of our humanity.

Again, as you always do so beautifully, thank you for sharing this impossible thing with the World. Thank you for talking about it.

Thank you for being SO BRAVE when the farthest thing you feel is bravery.

My heart is broken with your heart. I pray that my Theo welcomed your Jack with open arms. I pray that the strength of those who have done this before can carry you.

Chrissy, John, Luna, and Miles, I wish I could hug you. I am so deeply sorry for your loss.

I will say his name.

Baby Jack, you are so wanted. You are so loved. We all wish you could have stayed.


Rebecca Autin
Rebecca is an attorney by day and a toddler wrangler by night. She is a product of divorced parents and grew up in both Thibodaux and Franklin, Louisiana. Rebecca attended Loyola University of New Orleans and Southern University Law Center. Rebecca married her high school bestie in 2012. Quinton and Rebecca went through months of infertility before giving birth to Maxwell Lincoln in 2015. In 2016, they were surprised by a baby boy due in June 2017. But, in February 2017, they suffered with incompetent cervix and delivered sweet Theodore Paul too soon. In October 2018, after an incredibly difficult pregnancy, a cerclage, and a whole bunch of bedrest, Fitzgerald Joseph was born -- a happy, healthy, and perfect rainbow. If you can't find Rebecca, you can summon her with pot of freshly brewed coffee or look for her in Target or behind the kitchen island where she is hiding from her kids with a very generous pour of red.


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here