Tina's Story

Noah Weston Kittle

Born October 11th, 2022

My name is Tina Kittle and on October 11th, 2022 our son Noah Weston Kittle was born silent. No crying, no giggling, no heartbeat. Just silent. 5 years or so into our marriage my husband felt it on his heart to share his desire with me at the possibility of growing our family. Something that was originally not even a thought in our minds as we have a blended family and 3 older children. This was the beginning of our beautiful story that led us to our sweet boy, Noah. Our journey with Noah was a deliberate masterpiece who was so wanted and waited for. Noah represented our trust in the perfect timing of God. We prayed for him for over 2 years and after struggling to conceive and pursuing IVF our long-awaited answer to prayers was due to arrive in October of 2022.

I had an overall normal pregnancy, except for the lovely AMA diagnosis code for advanced maternal age. I had routine OB appointments and ultrasounds, everything you would expect. But around 34 weeks our medical team began monitoring Noah and myself for low fetal growth. Every single appointment indicated our baby boy was just measuring small and indicating low birth weight. At our last ultrasound, the team made the recommendation that we deliver at 37 weeks. The next day we saw our OB, heard Noah’s heartbeat and she agreed with the doctor’s recommendation, and we scheduled our induction. It was scheduled to begin 5 days later for the evening of Sunday, October 9th.

I remember waking up on the Saturday before our: induction and telling my husband I didn’t feel like I had felt Noah move as frequently as I had before. I chalked it up to him preparing for delivery and lowering into the birth canal. On Sunday morning, the morning of our induction I woke up around 5:30 in sheer panic. Something just didn’t sit right, and I truly couldn’t remember the last time I felt Noah move. As I searched through my Bible app, trying to find any verses I could come across to ease my fear and anxiety, I talked myself out of it and convinced myself nothing was wrong, how could it be? I was so far in my pregnancy, why would I lose my son now? Our induction was scheduled for 6pm. We arrived at the hospital so full of hope that soon our baby boy would be in our arms and what an impact he would be making into all of our lives. As they began to hook me up our lives instantly changed. 

While trying to find Noah’s heartbeat it became clear very quickly that the nurse was having trouble finding it. I will never forget those moments. As my heart raced that was all we could hear on the fetal heart monitor. The doctors rolling in the ultrasound machine, and finally, the attending physician coming in to try one last ounce of hope that maybe someone was wrong. But they weren’t. Nick and I didn’t need the staff to say the words, at that point we had seen enough ultrasounds and his sweet little heart fluttering so fast to know that this time, Noah’s heart was no longer beating. As Nick and I held onto one another, praying that our boy hadn’t left us, the attending physician said those awful words, “I’m so sorry, your son no longer has a heartbeat”.

As we sat there, clinging to one another, tears streaming, all I could think was How could this be possible?! We just heard his heartbeat on Tuesday! He was fine! There was no indication that he would leave us. But after 42 hours of labor, our precious boy arrived on October 11th, at 5:16pm. Weighing 4lbs 10ounces. And in that moment, we had our answers to what happened to Noah. His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck 3 times, criss crossed around his body twice and had what they call 2 true knots. Which likely cut off his oxygen supply as he lowered into the birth canal and prepared for delivery. None of which could have been detected by any of our ultrasounds leading up to his delivery. And even if it had been, it would not have been cause for them to deliver him early.

Psalms 139:16 tells us: 

“You saw me before I was born. Every Day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.”

Noah’s story was already written, nothing we could have done would have changed his outcome. His journey, however brief on earth, was an absolute honor that God chose us to be his parents. When I look back over the last 2.5 years of our life, I can’t help but reflect and have an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for simply surviving. Those first moments, days and weeks were dark! Full of grief fog and moments of “is this really happening, is this really part of our story and how will we survive”.

Months of aching at night as I cried myself to sleep and talked myself out of getting in my car to drive to the cemetery because I wanted nothing more than to hold Noah. The thought of him lying in the cold ground and not in his mommy’s arms was soul crushing. I wasn’t sure I would ever find my way through those nights. But by the grace of God, I did. I’ve also learned that the person I was on October 8th of 2022 is someone who no longer exists. I will never be that person again. When we learned that Noah was no longer with us, a piece of me died with him. The truth is, our lives will never be the same, ever. We are still finding our new “normal”. I am learning to love the “new” Tina. But the love that has grown within the four walls of our home and our family is something I could have only prayed for.

Our marriage is stronger than it has ever been. And we are beyond proud of each of our children for the strength, maturity, and compassion they continue to show. I am learning to make space for all of the feelings and emotions that come and go. I’m learning that grief and joy can co-exist. The only way I have been able to survive this valley is with my relationship and foundation in Christ, my husband and family. But also, the community that I have the privilege of surrounding myself with. This is not a club or path I would have willingly chosen for myself or my family. However, as I look back, I can’t help but be thankful for every step of it. It allows me to honor Noah and continue to keep his memory alive and share the love that I imagine if he were still with us, he would give.