Henry said Chavarria finally called him just days before her due date. She had returned to the United States. She said she was fine, but she avoided him, remaining behind the gates of her parents' house. Then the due date passed.
"She told me she was returning to the doctor because she didn't feel any movement," said Henry. "She wouldn't see me."
In the following days, Henry grew increasingly desperate for news. Then, he got some.
"She told me that she went back to the doctor and we had lost a child due to the umbilical cord being tied around the baby's neck," he said. "I was really hurt. I didn't know what to think."
For a moment, Henry thought it was all over. But in fact his ordeal was just beginning. Something told him Chavarria wasn't telling the truth.
"[She] did not answer my questions," he said. "She kept hanging up on me, saying, 'Oh, I need to call you back. I'm really busy.' Excuses, excuses, excuses. And then I start questioning everything."
Henry called Methodist Sugar Land Hospital where Chavarria said she'd miscarried.
"They told me that she'd never been a patient there -- she had never been to that hospital. I'm freaking out, because I have no idea what's going on."
Henry finally got Chavarria's parents on the phone. The call did not go well.
"They called me sick and crazy, and they told me that if I ever called their house or came to their house, they'd call the police and press harassment charges or trespassing charges, whatever applied," Henry said.
So Henry went to the police himself. They called Chavarria, and got a startling story.
"She [told police] she'd never been pregnant by me, we'd been broken up for almost a year, and I was doing this just to get back at her," Henry said. "I'm very hurt by this. I was confused. I had no clue as to what was going on."
On top of all that, Henry began to believe that, somewhere out there, he had a child.
And he had proof that Chavarria had been pregnant: photos of her while pregnant, and a sonogram form with her signature. "I showed the officers this, and they said, 'Wow, OK,'" recalled Henry. "'What's really going on?'"
The police called the family in and Chavarria finally spilled the beans.
"She broke down and said, 'I had the baby in Italy while we were on vacation. After having the baby, I walked to a convent and left him there,'" said Henry. "Initially, it was relief. It meant that there was a way I could get my child back."
But Henry had to search on his own. The police only could tell him that Chavarria had left the baby in Florence.
Florence -- birthplace of the Renaissance, home of countless art treasures and dozens of churches. Locating the right one would require a small miracle.
"I sat at my computer, and I found every convent and church in Florence," said Henry. "I called them one by one, and I think, after calling about 30, I found a nun who spoke English. She told me to Google 'neonato abandonato' [abandoned newborn]. And I found all these stories. 'Baby Abandoned in Church in Florence.'"
The article described a baby boy found in a church by an order of nuns, right around the time Chavarria was in Florence. "I knew it was my child," said Henry. "In my heart, everything told me that this was my child."