Support Knoah and Vivian In Their Time of Grief

The name's Knoah - where the 'K' is silent but I am not.

On March 25th, 2025, I rushed to the Integris Baptist ER because my body did something I never imagined would happen - it betrayed me in the most dysphoric way - my water broke.

Some backstory: I am a transgender Puerto Rican man who has been on testosterone since 2018, which means I was born a woman and identify as a man. Really, since I was a kid, I knew I was "different" and so did my family. In time, I sought therapy, did the research before ever medically transitioning, and eventually, on January 7th, 2022, I had top surgery where I finally felt more comfortable in my body.

Fast forward to October 10th, 2023, I was smitten by the most adorable quirky spirit named Vivian. She made me laugh, appreciate the little things more, and forget all about my plans to be a workaholic businessman, seeing as in her embrace I had never felt richer - I still don't. She's even agreed to marry me! Something I never felt worthy of as a brown transman living in the South where I'm often fetishized or cast aside in many cis, gay spaces.

Our relationship grew, and we took all the necessary precautions before ever attempting to build a family. Consistently on our hormones, seeing our primary doctors to ensure we get our labs done, etc. As time went on, my health as a 33-year-old started to slip. Last fall they recommended I get on Metformin to help my 6.6 A1C - meaning I was now considered diabetic. Little did my partner and I know that that medication also raises fertility...

On March 9th, 2025, my lab results were in, and my estrogen was high, which is odd for someone who also showed a high count for testosterone. Seeing as I wasn't menstruating, the doctor assumed it was a typo and requested more labs. How I wish now that they had suggested I take a pregnancy test then, but in my naivety, I trusted this was likely nothing and went on with my day.

And then my water broke a week later, and I was admitted into Labor & Delivery - with a high-risk 5-month pregnancy.

Even as I write this, the tears are not too far behind.

Vivian and I knew instantly had we known sooner, especially as a trans couple, we'd have taken better precautions for my health & our little "Nugget" (the nickname we gave our kiddo). Daily, the nurses checked on our baby's heartbeat, but we were informed viability outside the womb at such an early stage in pregnancy meant if born, Nugget would likely not survive. So the goal was: "Keep Nugget Inside".

Minutes became hours, hours became days, days felt like weeks, and Vivian hardly left my side scared of what would come next for the baby and I. And as overjoyed we were to see Nugget's heart beating, one day it suddenly stopped...

Within a week, we were told we were parents, then suddenly we were reaching out to a funeral home and making arrangements for the death of our daughter. Born on March 30th, 2025 at 11 inches and 350 grams, we named our daughter: Joy Cintora Cotto. The moment we heard her little heartbeats, that is what she brought us. And as personal as this story is, we truly could not have gone through this trauma without our parents, family & all our friends who FaceTimed, messaged or showed up for us through this.

We are asking now for help as the financial costs loom toward us without giving us much chance to breathe. Though no amount of time will heal this hurt, or make me forget the excruciating physical pain of going through birthing our daughter - none of that compares to the pain of not getting the chance to raise and protect our little one. Our hope is that this transparency will help any future T4T couples who place their health in others' hands, especially in queer spaces that still have opportunities to grow when it comes to transgender healthcare and awareness.

Thank you for taking the time to read my little family's story.

We hope you consider donating.