Raz-B and Mona Li Thornton Have Announced the Death of Their Three-Month-Old Son

De'Mario Thornton, the B2K singer known as Raz-B, and his wife Mona Li Thornton have announced the death of their son Astro Monte Thornton at three months old.

The confirmation came through the couple's spokesperson, David Robinson, on Thursday, September 10.

"It is with heavy hearts that we announce the unexpected passing of Astro Monte Thornton, beloved son of Mona and De'Mario Raz B Thornton of the R&B supergroup B2K," the statement read. "The family asks for privacy as they navigate this difficult time. They truly appreciate your love and support."

No further details have been given, and the family has not said anything beyond the statement.

The family

Raz-B is 41. He and Mona Li are also parents to a son, Versai Carter Thornton, born in October 2024. Mona Li has an older daughter from a previous relationship.

Astro was born in May, which made the two boys roughly seven months apart.

What was shared at the time

The couple documented the pregnancy publicly, which is the reason so much of the recent months is on the record.

In April, Mona Li confirmed she was nine months pregnant while marking the end of the Boys 4 Life tour, which B2K co-headlined with Bow Wow. Her message then was about what touring costs the performer rather than about herself.

"What people see on stage is the talent, the dancing, the performance," she wrote to her husband. "What they don't see is the pain you push through every single night. And still, you show up and give everything like it's effortless."

On May 16, Raz-B posted from the hospital.

"Right now we're at the hospital getting ready to welcome our newest addition, Astro, another baby boy to the Thornton family," he wrote. "Big congratulations to my beautiful wife for being so strong through this journey. Watching you become a mother again is one of the greatest blessings I could ever witness. The Thornton family continues to grow, and our legacy does too."

Five days later he wrote again, thanking his wife for giving him such a beautiful family.

"Watching you be a mother, a partner, and the heart of this family makes me love and respect you even more every single day," he wrote. "Through all the ups and downs, you've stood beside me and helped make this journey long, meaningful, and beautiful."

When the happy posts are still up

There is a particular difficulty that attaches to a loss like this now, and it is worth naming without turning the family into an example.

A couple who share a pregnancy publicly are, without intending to, building an archive. The scan, the announcement, the hospital post, the tribute five days later. All of it stays where it was put, in order, timestamped, and all of it remains reachable by anybody who goes looking.

For a family in the weeks after a death, that archive does not behave like a memory. It behaves like a feed, resurfacing on anniversaries, in recommendations, in the replies of strangers who have just found out. There is no version of privacy that removes it, short of deleting the record of a child's arrival.

Which is some of what a request for privacy is actually asking for: not silence about the fact, but an end to the circulation of it.

The part that does not have a comment attached

Those posts were written in May by a man who had no reason to imagine reading them again in September.

There is nothing to add to them, and no interpretation that improves them. They are a record of what the family expected their year to be.

The statement asks for privacy, and the family has said everything it intends to say for now. Anyone wanting to respond has been told what would be welcome, which is love and support rather than questions.

That is where this should be left.