It’s the kind of heartache you can feel in your bones.

Nothing can explain the pure excitement we had upon seeing two positive pregnancy tests 9 days after our transfer. There were tears. We were in disbelief. We were beyond excited and had already started discussing next steps. When would we be moving Braxton to a big boy bed and room to use his nursery furniture for the baby? When were we going to tell our friends and family? We were already counting down the days to our first ultrasound.


Monday morning we got the call that our beta test also came back positive, but that our hcg level was low at only 14. Our hcg levels had to increase substantially for it to be a viable pregnancy and for it not to end in miscarriage. I have never prayed as hard as I have prayed and cried as much as I have cried, until Wednesday morning when we redid our beta test. Our beta test showed the hcg level had dropped to 6 meaning that we were experiencing a miscarriage. Even our urine test slowly showed the hcg’s demise, as the second line grew more faint with each test.

Nothing can prepare you to hear those words. We were pregnant, but we were miscarrying. I was losing our miracle and there was absolutely nothing myself or Jason could do about it. I had kind of prepared myself for the devastating news because even I knew that 14 was a low number.

We are not only 1 in 8 couples who will experience infertility, but we are now 1 in 4 who will experience unexplained miscarriage. The statistics are really stacking up against us, huh?

I sat on my couch crying, in disbelief absolutely heartbroken. All I wanted was Jason to be there by my side, but a part of me was glad he wasn’t so I didn’t have to see the heartbreak he would also be experiencing. I tried to gather myself before picking up the phone to break the news. I called, but got no answer. In that moment, I was relieved because for a few more minutes all that he knew was that we were pregnant. When he called back shortly after, he knew. Our conversation was brief, because there is really nothing that we can say to make this devastating news easier to comprehend or even accept.

We are broken. We are devastated. We are crushed.

Just as quickly as we were pregnant, we suddenly weren’t.


We went into our Frozen Embryo Transfer procedure on November 2nd feeling extremely optimistic. Not only had all 3 embryo’s survived the thawing process, but the process went smoothly. Jason slightly rearranged his schedule so that I could fully rest and take it easy for the first 48 hours following our procedure. We had such high hopes. We were doing everything right. We had tons and tons of people praying for us. I experienced the holy spirit spreading through my body only days earlier giving me so much hope. This was going to work.

But it didn’t.

We are right back to square one, but it’s worse this time because our treatment worked. We had gotten pregnant.

We are so incredibly devastated. I cannot help but blame myself, because yet again, all my body had to do was carry our embryos. I know people tell me not too, but I challenge them to try and understand everything my body went through to prepare for this unfortunate outcome. My body is riddled with bruises. My hormones are all over the place. The headaches haven’t stopped. The discomfort I experience when lying down from all of the shots still exist. The emptiness I’m feeling now, more than ever, is overwhelming.


I have shed many tears. I have sat in silence trying to comprehend why this painful journey ended in heartache, yet again. I continue to pray asking Him for strength. I continue asking Him for clarity and for explanation. Clarity and explanation I might never receive.

This past weekend, Jason and I were able to escape from reality, and we headed up North to Petoskey to visit some family. It was nice being able to forget about the sorrow I had in my heart for a few minutes, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t break down in tears a few times. I was dreading our final beta test that was scheduled for this morning, and even though the numbers were bad, I still held on to some hope. We both did.

The test was negative. We are officially no longer pregnant. We have officially miscarried.

The next few days, weeks and months will be particularly difficult as we had pictured it being so differently only days earlier. I ask that you continue praying for us. Continue praying for our faith, our strength and for a miracle. Pray for our little boy who has seen his parents both break down in tears. Pray for all those who experience infertility and miscarriage.

I am forever grateful for our son. He is the light through all the darkness. The laughter when there are tears and our joy when there is sadness.


If you feel compelled to help, we do have a GoFundMe account. If we continue treatment, any little bit will help us:




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