Our Why
We are Crystal and Ryan—most proudly known as Whittaker’s Mum and Dad.
In 2021, as we eagerly awaited the arrival of our firstborn daughter, our world changed in an instant when we heard the five words no parent is ever prepared for: “I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat.”
After a beautiful, healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy, we had no reason to believe the future we had been preparing ourselves for, for the past 10+ months, could change so suddenly and without warning.
Our beloved daughter, Whittaker Te Riunui Angela Zeeman, was stillborn at 40+4 weeks on the 14th July 2021. She weighed 9 lb 7 oz and measured 57.5 cm long. With her mum’s nose, her dad’s big feet, and full lips, our darling girl was perfect in every way.
Because of my Māori heritage, and my understanding of our family’s rights over Whittaker’s body after death in Queensland, I was adamant we would not be leaving the hospital without our baby. Thanks to our incredible social worker and the support of Hummingbird House, we spent six precious days with Whittaker.
From the moment she was born to the moment we placed her in her white casket—lined with palm tree wallpaper and covered in messages and drawings from those who love her—Whittaker was never alone. She was surrounded only by love. All she ever knew was love.
In just ten short, overwhelming days, we went from preparing to welcome home our healthy baby girl to being told she had died; telling our loved ones, being induced, to birthing Whittaker peacefully, witnessing her first and last precious moments, planning her funeral, making the heartbreaking decision to cremate her, completing paperwork and saying goodbye forever.
To say our world had been turned upside down would be an understatement.
Over time, it became clear to us that the gentle, unhurried time we shared with Whittaker is not the experience most families are offered. Although no amount of time could ever feel like enough, many parents in Australia are given only hours, or perhaps a night or two, with their baby—often unaware it may be possible to spend more time together beyond the hospital setting. We could not comprehend having even less time than we were given, and it was heartbreaking to realise many families are sent home from hospital still in complete shock, expected to navigate all of this on their own.
It was during those days—waiting for Whittaker’s arrival and facing an uncertain future—that the vision of Whittaker’s Wings began to take shape. Through our grief, we knew we wanted to do something—anything—to support families who might one day find themselves in that same devastating position but with less guidance, limited opportunities and minimal ongoing support.
That became our mission: to provide comfort and practical support to bereaved parents of stillborn babies, while helping maternity healthcare providers confidently guide and encourage families to embrace those time critical yet beautiful, moments together.
Losing Whittaker has been the greatest heartbreak of our lives. Yet through that loss, we found purpose. We want our daughters’ name to live on in a way that brings comfort, connection, and gentleness to other grieving families.
In 2023, we welcomed Whittaker’s little sister, Berkley, into the world. She knows her sister’s name and her place in our family, and together we carry Whittaker’s memory forward every single day.
Dedicating our lives to building a meaningful legacy in Whittaker’s memory—and in honour of the many babies who are so deeply loved and deeply missed—has brought us a sense of peace.
We hope, in some small way, it brings that to you too.
We see you.
Whittaker's mum & dad
xx
