I want to tell the story of our sweet Harper Kindness. I don’t know how to begin telling the story of yet another sweet little one that we weren’t able to meet, but I will try.

This was the first pregnancy that I knew, KNEW, I was pregnant before even taking the test. I had been having some significant sensitivity to smells for a few days that struck me as odd (asking Evan if he’d actually brushed his teeth right after brushing), and then was beyond exhausted for 3 days. The first test I took was on Thursday May 6th, 6 days before I expected to miss my period. I started a new PCP and convinced them to test since they were drawing blood anyway. It was negative. I took another test Saturday after I was beyond exhausted, it was also negative. I told myself I wouldn’t take anymore tests until i was actually late. Buuuut, the next day on Mother’s Day, I thought it would be a fun day to find out, so I took an expired one that I found. Negative. But I ordered some new ones, and took them after bedtime when they came Monday night… this time POSITIVE! This was the first time I’d found out without Evan. I hadn’t told him I was taking tests. I’m not super sure why. We usually do these things together, but we were intending to be chill and I didn’t think taking a bazillion tests was that chill. But I got to tell him myself for the first time, which was special. I set up a camera and filmed me explaining that I’d figured out why I was so tired. He was THRILLED!!

I took another test Tuesday morning before calling the doctor. POSITIVE. My doctor’s office planned on waiting for me to come in for an 8 week ultrasound, but after explaining my history, they called in a blood HCG test. They didn’t send me the results til the next day. HCG 36. PREGNANT!

Evan and I stayed up late discussing if and when we wanted to tell anyone, but first and foremost the kids. We’ve always chosen to celebrate immediately and tell people right away to celebrate the life with us no matter how long we get the opportunity to have the baby. But, we really wanted to consider the impact of that on the boys. We discussed all the different scenarios, and decided that we wouldn’t want to hide this life from them even if that meant we couldn’t shelter them from the sadness. We thought it was important for them to see our real emotions no matter what happened and work through it all together.

We told the boys first thing Friday morning. Our oldest was delighted. He exclaimed “Are we going to be a QUINTET!?” He loves orchestras and so this was a big compliment. Our youngest didn’t seem to process the news at all, but our oldest asked questions and seemed genuinely excited.

We repeated the labs the next day (Thursday, 48 hours from the first level). After not hearing from them, I called on Friday and asked them to call me with the results because pretty much any outcome needed some level of followup given our history of ectopic pregnancies. They didn’t call. Spoke with the triage nurse, and she told me the results were in but I needed to wait for the doctor. She let it slip that the results were 34. This is really bad, it should have been in the 70’s, doubling every two to three days. The doctor never called. I called the after hours line. They didn’t call. I called back the next day, and finally got a response. They called more labs in for Monday. Believe me, I’m frustrated at their lack of responsiveness. It’s not great news, but it’s unclear what it meant. So much uncertainty. The triage nurse told me 34.

My whole body shuts down. I am instantly numb more than sad. I ask Evan if we did the wrong thing telling the kids, and he assured me that we’d considered this and want to walk through it together even though telling them would be hard.

Evan calls his parents to tell them the uncertain news while the kids and I nap. They pray for the baby.

When they wake up, we tell the kids what we know, which wasn’t much, just essentially that the doctor just says that the baby isn’t growing as fast as we hope. Our oldest prayed for the baby to grow “Dear Jesus help the baby grow fast fast fast”. I sob. The boys go back to playing trains.

My parents come over for dinner. We tell them the uncertain news. We talk for a bit, and eat some pizza.

I text some friends, Julie and Lauren, for moral support and to gauge whether I’m overreacting about not hearing back from the OB. I’m so thankful for how they support me from far away. Parenting together with them long distance is a gift.

Evan and I spend the weekend trying the best we can to sit in the uncertainty. I have some discomfort on and off, but it doesn’t feel cramping or any of the ectopic pregnancies we’ve had before so we just pray and wait.

While I’m in the office waiting on the labs on Monday, the doctor comes down and checks in and we make a plan to have them call me with the results that day. They never call. I call back before closing. They track down the results, and call me and tell me that my HCG has fallen to 5. The uncertainty is over. We are miscarrying. This emptiness feeling takes over. I just sit and stare at the wall before going to tell Evan. The boys are napping. When I tell Evan, we just both sit there silently for a long time. We sit together until the kids wake up.

We choose to tell them when they wake up. Our oldest was really sad, and started to cry. He shared that he was very sad because he really likes quintets and really wanted one. He has lots of questions about why the baby isn’t growing fast enough, why it’s growing too slow, why can’t it keep growing, etc. It’s hard. We don’t have great answers to these questions. When our oldest is really wrestling with things he just repeats questions over and over, sometimes with variation, trying to tease more of the nuance out. We keep answering  as best we can and sit with him. He sits and talks about it for a long time. He eventually goes and plays, but comes back with questions a few times. Our youngest doesn’t really seem to acknowledge anything we’re saying, and getting down to play while we were focused with our oldest.

After bedtime and more questions from our oldest, Evan and I just sit, talk, and try to mourn. We find ourselves feeling more empty than sad this time.

Everything about this feels different. This is our first time walking through a miscarriage after having kids on this side of heaven. It’s different to walk through it with them. It makes me so much more grateful for the gift of their lives, and it leaves less space in some ways. Their inherent joy in the moment brings light into dark moments, and the need to continue to care for them keeps us moving. Even when bedtime comes and there is more room to pause, it’s still different.

This is my first medically uncomplicated miscarriage. Given the circumstances, I’m grateful not to spend time away from the kids or go to the hospital during this pandemic. It’s so different as it’s happening way more quickly than others. The extra devastating part for me is that for every other miscarriage we’ve always been far enough along to have an ultrasound. I’ve always clung to those pictures of our little ones, and feel really lost without it.

Evan and I always want to name each life. It’s always helped us to honor and connect with our babies. We chose to name the baby Harper in honor of the quintet our oldest longed for and the image of them playing a harp in heaven brings me comfort.

Evan suggested “Kindness” as a big theme in our lives and world right now. “Kindness is everything.” We want everything we experience to make us more kind, more gracious, more generous, more loving to our communities and ourselves. It’s especially kind of the Lord to save me the pain and the hospital separation of our other miscarriages this time.

As always, I come back to the song that has ministered to me during each of our losses - Out of Hiding by Steffany Gretzinger. This time, a different phrase stood out - “I loved you before you knew what was love” God’s love for me and for Harper is immeasurable, and I also see myself in that moment singing over Harper that I loved them before they even knew. I’ve also been ministered to by Maverick City Music’s “The Story I’ll Tell” and “Promises.” I thank God for the gift of music and how He has always ministered to my heart through song.

I’m so grateful to our friends who dropped off meals for us this week so we could focus on caring for ourselves and the kids. Thank you for serving our family and loving us so well!

In case you didn't know, I'm a psychologist who specializes in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT). My favorite part about DBT is that these skills are helpful for everyone, and I use them every day. Let's be real, as a brand new mom I need them now more than ever!

There is a lot that I could tell you about DBT, but for now I'll try to keep it to what is relevant (See what is DBT? for more info). Briefly, dialectics is finding the balance or truth between two seemingly opposing sides. One of the key dialectics in DBT is finding the balance between acceptance and change. It seems like acceptance and change are total opposites, but actually there is truth in both! For instance, acceptance doesn't mean you are against change; instead, accepting where you are right now allows you to work on changing things by starting with how they actually are.

While I'm very new to this parenting thing, I've noticed that it doesn't take long for Mom guilt to set in (read - almost instantly). Take a deep and natural desire to do the best for this new tiny human who depends on you for life, add tons of conflicting information on how to care for said tiny human, and throw in some sleep deprivation and a boatload of hormones to make us extra vulnerable to extreme emotion and you have a solid recipe for Mom guilt! Let me illustrate how DBT, and dialectics in particular, has helped me cope with the onslaught of Mom guilt.

Parenting offers you an endless sea of choices and, in the moment, those choices tend to feel like they will all be life-altering. That somehow the decision about which bottle and breast pump combo to use will some how have drastic lifelong consequences (yes, I really did spend about roughly 52,738 hours making that decision). Catastrophizing much?

Our emotions are so important and have several vital roles. One of the roles of emotions is to motivate us to action. My love for my child motivates me to try to do the best things for him, which leads me to researching all of these seemingly life-altering choices only to find a lot of very conflicting information. The myriad of options leads me to feel fearful of making the "wrong" choice and accidentally messing up my kid for life, which would obviously violate my values leading to... Mom guilt! Does this sound a touch dramatic to you? Well, welcome to what unjustified fear does to the brain!

Each of these decisions presents itself in a unique dialectic, as it seems that no matter what parenting stance you find there is an entire camp of people arguing passionately on the polar opposite side.

Here are some of the common opposing ideas out there:

• formula vs breast-milk
• feed on demand vs feed on a schedule
• breastfeeding covered vs uncovered
• cloth diapers vs disposable
• co-sleeping vs crib
• cry it out sleep training vs gentle sleep training
• pacifier vs no pacifier/nipple confusion

Seriously, the list could go on and on. Here are some that have been extra sticky for me recently:

• On one hand, sleeping on their back on a firm, flat surface is safest and on the other hand, he was not able to sleep in his crib or bassinet but would sleep in a rock and play (eg. a titlted surface).
• On one hand, babies need to learn to sleep independently and on the other hand, he will only nap while being held.
• On one hand, put your baby down drowsy but awake so they learn to go to sleep by themselves, and on the other hand, nursing to sleep is natural.
• On one hand, there are cry-it-out sleep training techniques, and on the other hand, there are no-cry/gentle sleep training techniques.

I could go on, but all of my current dilemmas seem to be sleep-related. Sleep is a hard thing in our household these days! My son is an absolute joy, but let's just say that sleeping is not his superpower.

The goal of dialectics is to work to identify the truth in both positions and work to find a balance or synthesis. For me, the synthesis here is to simply "do what works." It took 3 different friends to remind me of my skills while I was lamenting about my 2 month old son's sleep woes. We were trying to transition him out of the rock and play into his crib. We were trying to get him to do an eat, play, sleep routine and not nurse to sleep or nurse so often. We were trying to put him down for naps instead of holding him. And let me tell you, it was NOT going. I tried each of these things for way longer than made sense, because I got stuck in that fear thought ("if I don't do this now, he'll never learn to sleep well, will develop a ton of bad sleep habits, and I may have to hold him to sleep until he moves out.")

When I find myself getting lost in the sea of choices, I come back to doing what works for us right now. If it stops working, we will do something else. There was so much freedom to letting go of my quest for the "perfect answer" or what we "should" be doing right now. I've worked to accept my son's difficulties sleeping for now, instead of working against them. Surprisingly enough, this has not only come with more freedom, more joy and less anxiety, but he doesn't cry as much at nap time, he can sometimes go to sleep without nursing, and we are actually trying to transition him to his crib again and it's going better this time (so far....fingers crossed)! Such an example of the dialectic between acceptance and change. Accepting where we were right now instead of fighting it gave me so much more peace and allowed me to see our best options with more clarity. It was only then that things began to change!

If I catch myself catastrophizing, I find the checking the facts skill to be so useful to peel back my assumptions, judgments and worst case scenario ideas from the actual reality. The facts are that while it feels (and is) important, any of these decisions aren't going to make or break my role as a parent. Also, even if I do make a choice that I later regret, I honestly was doing the best I could with the information I had at the time. Chances are I will get a chance to make a different choice the next time, which allows me such freedom and much less worry!

Using skills takes practice while letting our emotions run the show comes much more naturally. You simply won't remember to use them every time. My husband can testify that just this week, even after reminding myself of these skills by writing this, I found myself worrying that my child (who doesn't sleep well or nap by himself yet) was sleeping "too long" after I put him down in the crib alone. HA! Luckily, he reminded me to be mindful by being in the moment with him, going with the flow, and doing what works (aka spend some time with him!). Thank goodness for people who lovingly remind you to be skillful....over and over again!

3:20am insight

Enjoy the time when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, just needing just few more rocks and cuddles
Enjoy the time when he wants the pacifier and you feel him sucking and gnashing on it
Enjoy the time when he squirms in your arms, trusting you to hold him safely
Enjoy the time when you can peek over and see his peaceful face, or his scrunched up Yoda face, whichever the face may be

As they say, the nights may be long, but the years are short.

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move,
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through,
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You,
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!

• Trust In You by Lauren Daigle

In December, we had elective surgery to remove my left fallopian tube. In January, we started our 2nd IVF cycle. In February, we found out that we were PREGNANT! At the end of February, we had to have another emergency surgery and unfortunately lost our precious Riley Patience to another ectopic pregnancy in my left fallopian tube. In March, we had to have a methotrexate injection after problems during the miscarriage process. It was a whirlwind of both joy and grief and many medical complications.

I slowly started feeling like myself again, and now am fully recovered. I was able to resume regular exercise again, which has been amazing.

Several people have asked us "Have you thought about trying naturally again?" or "Have you thought about adoption?" Before we ever decided to do IVF, we prayerfully considered all of the options to see where the Lord was leading us. Because of our strong values for life, we knew that if we were going to do IVF we would need to commit to each other to give any embryo that God allowed to form its best chance at life. Right now, we have 1 frozen embryo left in storage. So, us choosing to continue forward with at least 1 more IVF cycle was not very difficult. However, we worked hard with our doctors to see if there was anything else we could do to improve our chance of seeing this life develop on earth.

Our doctors consulted with other experts and did literature reviews to see what options we have going forward. We have an seriously elevated risk for future ectopics, even with IVF. Additionally, even though ALL of the external left fallopian tube has been removed, there is still a portion of the left fallopian tube that is inside the uterus that remains. The risk of another pregnancy again implanting in that remaining portion of tube is very high, which would be considered a cornual pregnancy and is quite dangerous. While the doctors considered removing that remaining portion, we all agreed that would cause more problems than it would solve.

Due to having the methotrexate shot, we needed to wait 3 months to allow my body to get rid of any remaining chemo, which we wouldn't want to interfere with the pregnancy. We elected to get extra imaging prior to another transfer that will allow the doctors to have a much more accurate marker for placement during the transfer. When we do another transfer, we are going to attempt to transfer it just a little bit lower this time, but without going too low and raising the risk of the embryo implanting in the cervix.

We will also be adding on EmbryoGlue to increase the likelihood that the embryo attaches where it is placed. Studies have found that this increases live birth rates, but not so astoundingly that they recommend it across the board. Primarily, because it does not solve the chance of a chromosomal abnormality in the embryo. However, while reducing ectopic pregnancies isn't EmbryoGlue's intended use, some initial studies have found that it has significantly reduced the rate of ectopic miscarriages (even with samples that have much higher than normal rates of ectopic pregnancies). We loved this as an option since it is very low cost add-on, non invasive, and has no associated risks.

After the transfer with EmbryoGlue, we will be more closely monitored and they will add in doing early ultrasounds to attempt to locate where the pregnancy is to be able to identify early on if the pregnancy is an ectopic or cornual pregnancy.

We are feeling hopeful for our next steps. We are relieved to have a break before we begin trying again. We are still so incredibly heartbroken. Our initial anger has subsided, and we are just so thankful for all the doctors on our team. They were there for us at every step, and we spoke or saw them daily for several weeks in a row. Difficult times show you how many people in your life are truly there to support you. I'm so grateful for all of the people in our lives who totally get it even when we don't have the words to explain it.

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up, I'm still looking up.

• I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz

To me, the big theme in this life is patience, perseverance, the resilience to get back up and keep going. Even when things are terrible and hard. I feel like this challenge, this desire for children, is one of the hardest challenges I've faced. And there's just so little I can do about it, but keep praying, keep believing, keep encouraging, and keep sharing.

Our pastor, Judah Smith, has referenced one of his dad's mottos in each of the past two sermons. It's pretty simple,

No pain, no pain.

It doesn't get simpler than that right? If you don't have pain, you're not in pain. And yet, following Jesus leads is directly into pain, directly into the things we'd rather avoid, not talk about, and ignore when possible. But it's that very pain that grows us, teaches us, and increases our reliance on Him, and our connection with others.

We have one frozen embryo left, please pray with us that this one's the one!

When Andrea gave us the Luke Isaiah Tree, she sent us with an assortment of small birds, so that we could add and update it. We've added a new tiny bird for our little Riley.

We showcase these on the pillar of our house. It's a prominent place that we see and remember them every day.

Dear children, you are always in our hearts. It encourages me to think of you in Heaven, climbing and clambering all over my dear grandparents. We're still seeking to meet your siblings here on Earth, but look forward to joining you. To live is Christ, to die is gain.

So, I made a graph. Because, well, what else do you do when you have continuous data observed over time?

And here's a view of the story of our Riley, told in numbers. Hope exponentially rising for most of February, pain crashing down, new concerning growth, chemotherapy intervention, plateau, and denouement.

We chose to name both our first three babies that we lost through miscarriage, Avery Miracle, Hayden Promise, and Hadley Hope. It was important to us to cherish the lives God gave us, even if we could not keep Avery, Hayden, or Hadley with us here on earth. Naming our little ones has always been very important to us, and one of the big ways we were able honor and remember them. Having a unisex name was important to us, since we did not get to know the gender before we miscarried. Instead of a traditional middle name, we have chosen a something that represents a character trait that is meaningful to us. Don't worry, our little ones won't be teased for their unique middle names on the playgrounds of heaven!

We chose to name our precious little one Riley Patience. Evan and I both instantly loved the name Riley, which means valiant. Later, friends pointed out that Riley was the main character's name in Inside Out and Girl Meets World, both of which I am obsessed with. Oh, the irony! As we wrestled with the grief of our 4th miscarriage, we felt that patience was at the heart of our journey, as we continued to strive to wait on God's promises in the moments that He brings us to the joys of the top the mountain or grief in the depths of the valley.

My recovery was slow and with many bumps along the way. I developed several complications post-op: insomnia from the anesthesia, a thrush infection from the medications during surgery, and GI difficulties from the medications given for the thrush. I was able to return to work a little over a week later. While I had more post-op pain, this time, I slowly began to feel like myself again over the next few weeks.

The doctors continued monitoring my HCG levels once a week expecting them to steadily fall until they were <5, which assures that the rest of the miscarriage process was progressing well. Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.

Three weeks after my surgery, my HCG rose pretty significantly, which means that there are still some remaining pregnancy cells were still attempting to replicate. The doctors were very clear with us that this did not mean that the baby was going to be okay; instead, this was actually very dangerous. The only place the remaining cells could be was in the part of the tube that crosses through the uterine wall. If it continued expanding there, it could rupture my uterus, which would be very painful, dangerous, and would lead to a major surgery.

Our doctors were strongly suggesting that I get an injection of methotrexate (a small dose of chemo). This drug would target the fastest replicating cells in my body, which was the pregnancy cells that were attempting to replicate. The injection was designed to be a non-invasive way to help the miscarriage process continue. If it didn't work, we could try the injection one more time or we would be facing another more invasive surgery.

We had been given the injection as an option with a previous ectopic pregnancy, Hayden Promise, and we fought very hard to avoid using it. However, with very different circumstances, we felt at peace with going forward with this option now. I had the injection the next day, and we waited and prayed for the 15% decrease that they needed to see.

Our next HCG test was 3 days later, and there was a lot of confusion in relaying the results to us. Our regular nurse was on vacation, and a different nurse called saying that my HCG had gone down. When I asked for the amount, she told me a number that was higher (1399, after our last result of 1365 ). She panicked and called the doctor. She eventually called back to report that she meant to say that this result was considered a plateau. They were hoping the 15% decrease would happen by our next blood draw or we would have to intervene again.

We took another blood draw a few days later, and thankfully it decreased by more than the needed 15%. We were so relieved, and finally felt like we were coming out of the woods. After this point, my recovery took a few more weeks, but went very smoothly.

I am not alone,
I am not alone
You will go before me
You will never leave me

• I Am Not Alone by Kari Jobe

Even during very difficult physical and emotional times, God was so, so near to us. We were so thankful to continually be surrounded by such supportive family, friends, and coworkers. Despite having recently moved to a new city, we were so fortunate to have had so much help.

My parents sent us groceries and pre-made meals for more than a week.
My in-loves sent us a care package with tons of sweets, notes, and encouragement.
My coworkers took all my crisis calls, then went above and beyond and offered to see my clients while I was out.
Evan's work was so gracious letting him work from home with me all week. Family, friends and coworkers stopped by just to talk, brought food, sent texts, sent cards, prayed....
Absolutely everything we needed was completely taken care of.
It was such a blessing!

The surgery went very well, but took longer than expected due to a surprising turn of events. The doctors found that the baby had implanted in my left fallopian tube - oh, you know the one that was removed in December! My post-surgery brain could not begin to understand this, I was just relieved to have gotten to keep my right fallopian tube and ovary.

Apparently, it is standard protocol during the fallopian removal surgery to leave that tiny portion (1 cm) of the external tube because cutting any closer would require cutting into the uterus itself, which could cause more damage and greatly raises the risk of post-op bleeding/complications. The surgery leaves the portion of the tube that crosses through the uterus and the small portion that is inside the uterus because attempting to remove these would need to involve resecting the uterus, as well. The baby implanting in that tiny, tiny portion is so incredibly rare that it is not typically worth the risk of removing it. During this surgery, they cleared out the blood and removed our baby, then they removed that tiny left over portion of the tube, and sewed up the edge of the uterus.

Once we understood what happened, our grief was compounded. Not only was I overcome with sadness for the loss of our baby, but I was also mad. Mad that this same tube could steal ANOTHER one of our babies. Mad that we had done "everything right" by getting the previous surgery, and it wasn't enough. Mad believing that our doctors should have known or should have told us of that risk. I was devastated, shocked, mad and confused - How are we here.... again?

On Saturday, I stayed strong until Jessi went in for the emergency surgery, then I walked out to the lawn outside the surgery center and cried. What else could I do but cry, and write?

So here we are again. It's just unbelievable. I can't believe we're here at the hospital again, here in the same room doing the same surgery that we just did in December. I just can't believe that this baby isn't coming to see us either.

Why?

I just don't get it. I just don't understand why we can't keep one. It just feels so unfair. It's just so so so sad.

On Friday, February 26, I was six weeks and one day pregnant. We had just had amazing news from the doctor the day before, and I was still giddy. Friday is always "Taco Friday" lunch out with my co-workers, and its my favorite. However, they were both out of town this week, so I grabbed a quick lunch on my own. Then, the pain started to creep up on me. I slowly realized that I did not feel good, and somewhere deep down I just knew. This was not my first rodeo, I knew the symptoms, and things always went wrong during our 6th week.

Every. Single. Time.

However, I told myself all the reasons that that was not what was happening here. While my pain was increasing, it was mostly on my left side. I was previously told by one of our nurses that after having a left side ectopic patients often misinterpret discomfort on the left side as tubal issues when they are really GI since your bowels are in the same area. So, since my surgery in December removed my left tube, I knew that we couldn't be having any issues related to a left side ectopic pregnancy.

So, I stalled for an hour. I text my husband. I stalled for another hour. I called the doctor. I waited for the doctor to call me back. I saw a client (I was still at work). More waiting for the doctor. By the time the doctor called me back, the choices we had were to wait until the next morning and come into their office or go now to the ER. I was in a fair amount of pain at this point and had almost passed out at work, but all had our fingers crossed that "this too shall pass." So, we chose to wait it out at home with clear guidelines of what would put us over the threshold to go to the ER tonight. I called an uber and asked Evan to come home early. We text our families, and my uber driver got an earful as I called my mom crying, scared, and pretending this wasn't happening - again.

The next morning, we went to our reproductive endocrinologist (RE) doctor's office trying to play it cool. We saw a doctor we had never met before, who was beyond fabulous. As a side note, I really appreciate when the doctors verbalize what they are seeing in ultrasound and thinking during a crisis because without it the silence is deafening. After discussing my symptoms, she did the ultrasound herself, and she explained that she could see a lot of bleeding in my pelvis. She also said that she could not find the baby in the uterus, and that we were far enough along that they should be able to see the gestational sac. She shared she was very concerned that it was a rupturing ectopic pregnancy, and she wanted me to go to the hospital immediately for more tests. We sat in a mixture of shock and tears, and she graciously answered all of our questions. She said she would come meet us at the hospital soon, and would call our regular doctor for a consult.

We headed off to the ER, and were quickly admitted. The next several hours were a whirlwind of doctors, tests, and luckily, some medication for the pain. The hospital doctors all ultimately confirmed what our doctor had told earlier - we were having another ectopic pregnancy. However, this time, the internal bleeding was so significant that they could not tell where it was, but they could clearly see that it was not in the uterus.

After consulting with my regular RE doctor, everyone decided that I needed emergency surgery. There were a lot of unknowns, since they didn't know where the baby was or where the bleeding was coming from, they couldn't tell us exactly what they were going to do. Generally, their plan was to find the source of the bleeding, stop the bleeding, locate the baby, and remove the baby (since it was located outside of the uterus and could no longer survive). They said that there was an 80% chance that I’d have to lose my right fallopian tube (if this happened I would never be able to get pregnant without IVF), and there was a possibility that they would need to take my right ovary, too (if I lost both ovaries I wouldn’t be able to have genetic children, ever). We talked through all the million if-then-but-possibilities so the doctors would know our wishes and attempt to save my tubes, my ovaries, and the baby in the remote chance that was possible.

Before the surgery, we asked for some time alone to pray together and say goodbye to our little love.

Our hearts were broken.

Jessi just called me with fantastic news! Her HCG is all the way up to 350! That's a huge improvement over what we'd been seeing and a very good sign that this pregnancy is on a healthy track.

Wow, this could really be it!!

Jessi said that when she went in for blood this morning it took a long time because they were behind schedule, but that gave Dr. Thyer a chance to happen by and tell her that she was very hopeful and that sometimes frozen embryos just take a little bit longer to get going.

SRM is ready to transfer us to an OB at 7 weeks, but I think we'd like to do a few more blood tests to know that we're on track here.

Also, my paperwhites just started to bloom!

Today I stepped out from a meeting to received some good news from Jessi! Her HCG is continuing to rise and it caught up to the threshold they were looking for. They were hoping for it to be above 50, and it's up to 55.

Sometimes it's hard to step out, and get such incredible news, then go back into the meeting and keep discussing the topic at hand, instead of bursting out sharing that our baby is alive and growing!