Houston Temple 2020

 The year 2020 has brought so many challenges to me personally. There have been some rays of sunshine amidst the storms, though, and when I look for them, I see them. Devin and I had the opportunity to go to Houston to go through the temple with our nephew Kayden, who received last minute permission to go through right before he left for his mission. Because of COVID-19, temples have been shut down for months. I have thought about how hard it has been for me to not be able to go to the temple in the past many months, especially as I have faced certain trials. I find the temple to be a place of peace and refuge. Devin and I had a goal to attend a new temple every month during 2019 and we made that goal. To go from attending the temple at least monthly to not at all for almost this whole year has been hard.

When the opportunity arose for us to go with Kayden, we jumped on it and got last minute tickets to Houston. Being in the temple this time was the most unique and maybe one of the most sacred times I have ever been. Just our party was allowed in, which consisted of Kayden, his parents Shawna and Slava, Devin's parents, his sister Jana, me and Devin, and two close friends of Shawna and Slava. There were a handful of temple workers to help us out, but other than that, we had the temple entirely to ourselves. The feeling there was sacred and almost as if we had a special invitation from our Heavenly Father to be there. 

One thing I have struggled with in the last few months is feeling acknowledged for what I did and what I went through. I know it's an internal feeling, not something that people are actually doing or not doing, but for whatever reason, I have often felt like no one really understands the true sacrifice that I went through to bring Paris to this world and then to go through the aftermath with the hysterectomy and the physical and emotional damage that came with that. I have tried to fight the feelings, but often find myself feeling confused as to why I needed to go through so much when I was just trying to do a good thing in the world. 

I recognized while sitting in the temple that I had not been able to have that extra source of support by attending during the months that were hardest. We haven't been to the temple since February, when we went with Jana in Florida. At that time, I was still pregnant with Paris. I haven't been able to go since her delivery nor the aftermath.

While I sat and pondered the last few months during our time in the temple, I had an overwhelming sense of peace come over me and I had the physical impression come, "I am proud of you. You did what was asked of you and I know that it has been hard for you, but you did it." I know that this was a direct impression to me from my Heavenly Father, who truly knows and loves me. HE knows, and so does his Son, what I have been through. Why do I need to have validation from the outside world when all that matters is knowing that my Heavenly Father is proud of me? It was truly an answer to a prayer that I didn't know I had, but came from the deepest part of my heart. 

I am grateful for a God who knows each of us, loves each of us perfectly, and who is the ultimate source of peace and comfort.

One of Life's Tender Mercies

Sometimes we experience tender mercies, miracles, and acts of God in our lives and I want to share with you one that I recently experienced.

Right around the time I delivered Paris, I had a prompting to read my patriarchal blessing. I received my patriarchal blessing when I was 13 or 14 years old and it is something that has given me peace and guidance throughout my life. It had probably been years since I last read my blessing when I pulled it out to read it this time. I was reminded of the many blessings I have already been given that were promised me and it was a good reminder of many other things that were told to me that have not yet happened.

Fast forward to Memorial Day weekend. That Sunday, we were in Idaho and had church at home with my mom and step-dad because of the COVID-19 situation. As part of our church meeting that day, we watched a video of President Russell M. Nelson (our prophet) sharing a story about his grandfather receiving a visitation from his own father after his father had died. That video and story is here if you are interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjBwuL0ogJs. After watching the video, we had a discussion about our ancestors and the importance they still play in our lives, even after they have passed. We talked about how we can learn from their stories and the legacies they left behind. It was an appropriate topic of discussion since the next day was Memorial Day. 

My mom then shared a story about her grandfather, my great-grandfather, Gordon R. Hillam. She shared that he had had pretty serious health challenges, including cancer.  Before he went into treatment for his cancer, he was given a blessing, which we have in written form as part of his personal history. There was a specific line in the blessing that was really powerful and gave him and his family a lot of comfort during his challenges, particularly during a time when he had to go in for a surgery that was relatively new for the surgeons and very high risk (This was the 1940's and I am sure medical care looked quite different back then than it does now!) He survived the surgery and the cancer and went on to live for another 10+ years.

I already knew this story about my great-grandfather and I also knew that my patriarchal blessing has the exact same line as the blessing he was given- the one that gave him and his family comfort during his medical issues. But I didn't know if my mom, my husband, or my kids was aware of my connection to him through blessings we had been given. After my mom shared my great-grandfather's story, I then shared my own story and that my patriarchal blessing has the same powerful line as the blessing he was given.  It was a wonderful conversation and reminder that we have connections to our ancestors who came before us, even those who we have never met, as is the case with me and my great-grandfather. 

My great-grandfather, Gordon Hillam

Just two days after this conversation, I went into the ER for delayed post-partum hemorrhaging (I was 3 weeks post-partum at this point).  Devin shared with me a few days after I got home from the hospital that right as we entered the emergency room, he had the specific line from mine and my great-grandfather's blessings come to his mind. This was before we even knew I would be going in for a  D & C, let alone that the procedure would turn into something much more. We were told that the procedure would be 30 minutes and I ended up in surgery for 4 hours with an emergency open hysterectomy as the outcome.  The line from my blessing repeated in his mind through the surgery, giving him peace and comfort as the 30 minute mark passed, then the hour mark, then the two hour mark and on without any news. He was of course very worried about what was happening, but felt that overwhelming peace that can only come from communication with the Holy Ghost.  

This story reminds me so much that we have a God who loves us and is involved in our lives. I do not find it coincidental that I had so recently been prompted to read my patriarchal blessing and to be reminded of the blessings promised me there. I also don't find it coincidental that we had the discussion about my great-grandfather and his surgery just two days before I went in for my own. I don't find it coincidental that in my blessing, I am promised the same thing as my great-grandfather, who would have received this specific blessing likely some 60 years before I received my patriarchal blessing. I know the outcome of my great-grandfather's blessing and that the promise made in his blessing came. This has given me comfort through my life as I have pondered being promised the same thing and especially now as I have worked to make sense of all that has happened in the last few weeks.  I know that the whole sequence of events was in place to help my husband in the immediate time of the surgery, but also to help me remember how known I am and how loved I am by our Heavenly Father.

Hysterectomy: The Emotional Side

Now that I have written down the facts (that post is below, but read at your own risk), I'm going to attempt to tackle the emotional side of this.

I think I often present as a generally happy and optimistic person (and I am). So when people ask me how I am doing, it is easy to say I am fine and move on. I have been trying to be honest with my feelings throughout this process and in general the more mature I get. I think realness is good for us as humans.

So, that said, this experience has been really difficult on me emotionally. At first, it just took some time to process the facts and what the heck had just happened. With time, I have had a LOT of feelings of "Why in the world did this happen to me?? I was just trying to do a good deed in the world, and this is the result?!" I know the "Why me?" approach is not the healthiest long-term, but I do think it's okay to acknowledge pain and loss when it exists. I feel a little blindsided by the fact that hysterectomies seem to be a known complication of IVF/surrogacy in general and I was never told about this. As I have talked to other gestational carriers this week, there are numerous others who have had my exact experience. It seems for some reason there is an increased chance of complications that result in hysterectomies after doing IVF and more in particular when carrying a baby for someone else. Why were we not told about this going in? I absolutely do not  think it would have changed my decision-- How could I ever regret bringing a human life into the world? I couldn't, and I don't. But, with that knowledge, at least I could have gone in with some awareness of the possibility, which would have made it easier to cope with if it became a reality.

I tend to get fairly weepy and emotional in the weeks after birth (darn hormones). I was just starting to feel like I was doing better this way from the birth hormones and now I almost feel like I have started over. I have found myself crying often and without knowing exactly why. I know I certainly don't need my uterus anymore, and there are definite perks of not having it long-term, but it still feels like a violation of sorts. I didn't ask for this, I didn't get to consent to it, and I am all the sudden missing a part of my body-- a part of what makes me a woman, a part that carried my 3 babies to term, miscarried one, and took a cell biologically related to someone else and carried it to term as a miraculous baby. My uterus has done some pretty amazing things, but all the sudden, it was taken from me. Oddly, losing the ability to pump for Paris on my own terms has also felt like an additional loss, layered on top of the other.

I know my emotions are worse when I don't have control over what I can and can't do in my life as well. I was supposed to go back to work this week and that has obviously been postponed. I can't drive, I can't work, I can't exercise, I can't even take a bath-- I can't do much but sit around currently and that is super hard on me. I feel best when I am busy, active, and productive and I am none of the above right now.

As I have sat with some of these yucky emotions, I have identified that I am feeling some renewed grief at the loss of my Aunt Linda, who passed away almost 9 years ago from an amniotic fluid embolism. Our stories are not the same, but I was at the hospital when Linda arrived by life flight and the nurse told me that if they could just stabilize her, they could do a hysterectomy and potentially save her life. But, they couldn't and she didn't make it. Why? Why her and not me? I certainly don't think I was that close to death, but if we had not gone into the hospital when we did, I think things could have gotten a lot scarier. Those feelings persist that Linda and I have similarities in our stories and yet she is gone and I am still here. I don't fully understand.

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I worry for my sweet husband, who has been an absolute saint through this entire experience. He has stayed by my side the whole time, helped shower me in the beginning when I couldn't, prepared meals, cleaned the house, and most importantly been there for me emotionally. He doesn't like to see me cry and tends to want to "fix it", but he has gotten really good at just sitting with me and letting me talk it through. In case I haven't mentioned it, I love him dearly. He is the best husband and companion for me.

When we arrived at the emergency room on Tuesday night, Devin had a significant spiritual experience. This experience helped Devin through the hours of waiting and not knowing and through what was to come. He shared it with me Sunday, two days after I arrived home from the hospital and it reminded me yet again, of God's hand in our lives. I will share this later. This has also given me peace as I have tried to make sense of things. I know God knows me and loves me. I know that he is aware of me now and though I can't fully make sense of everything, there is a reason for what I have gone through. I am learning and open to learning more as time passes about what it is I need to know.

I do know that Devin was really worried for me during the surgery. He called my mom multiple times and she said she has never heard him sound so worried. My mom has also told me that she was frantic, worried that I was dying. She knows that I wasn't really, but those thoughts stemmed from the trauma of losing her son (my brother) last year, as well as her sister Linda.  I think Devin's fears have somewhat lingered with him. Just this morning, he told me he was worried I was dead because I never stirred or moved when he woke up, through his shower, and through while he got dressed. I usually wake up with any noise, so he genuinely thought I was dead in the bed when I hadn't moved. I woke up to him approaching me in a bit of a panic. What a horrible feeling to constantly worry if your wife is okay. I think this will definitely lessen with time, but it gave me some insight into what he must have been feeling during the surgery.

I can't end this post without acknowledging the amazing and truly wonderful angels we have around us. I have been SO surrounded with support and I have never felt so loved in my life. We have had countless meals, treats, gift cards, flowers, entertainment, etc. dropped off. We have had people mow our lawn, clean our house, drive me places, come over and give me a blessing, and care for our children. I have had to tell many people no to bringing a meal because we just don't need it. I have had visitors daily, usually at least two per day, who just want to come see me and sit with me. These are not arranged visits or meals, just people who genuinely care. The visits, texts, and personal messages mean the most to me. I am a social worker, so maybe it's obvious, but human connection is really important to me. I have loved connecting with so many people, some who I haven't seen or talked to for some time. I have felt such an outpouring of love. Thank you, everyone, for that. I keep having the Mr. Rogers quote below running through my head and I 100% agree with it. I think one of the biggest blessings of hardship is that we can see how much others love and care.

(*Side note: For those of you reading this thinking, "Holy Crap, you need therapy!" I am going to get some 😊)

The Saga Continues: Hysterectomy- The Facts

Just when we thought I may be through writing stories connected to the GC process--nope! Here we are again. This post is truly going to be a lot of "Too Much Information" for some people, so please only read at your own risk. I want to try to record what happened for a few reasons; first, because it helps me to remember things, good and bad; second, as I have mentioned, writing these things down has been very very therapeutic for me; and third, it helps me to see the blessings in situations when I think through them, write it down, and look for them.

Memorial Day, Monday, May 25, we were having some friends over for a BBQ. Right before they came over, I had finished pumping milk for Paris (maybe I have not mentioned this here- I had been pumping breast milk for Paris. Josh, Janelle, and I agreed that this would be a good thing for her for the start of her life, so I agreed to pump for a month). I stood up and felt a huge blood clot coming. I ran to the bathroom in time, but saw that the clot was really big, as big as my fist. I called my cousin who is a midwife and asked her if I should be worried. I was 3 weeks postpartum and had not had any symptoms like this. I felt like my recovery was going really well and nothing was super out of the ordinary. My cousin said she was concerned about the sudden clot and recommended that I call my doctor the next day, as soon as I could.

Tuesday, I called the doctor's office and spoke with the nurse. I explained my symptoms and she told me not to worry unless I was bleeding through a pad every hour. I wasn't, but I reminded her that I had had a retained placenta at the birth, so she said she would talk to the doctor and call me back. She called back that afternoon and told me that they wanted me to go in for an ultrasound right away. I went in and the ultrasound lasted 45 minutes. The tech went out at one point to talk to the radiologist and came back in and told me they wanted to get more pictures through a vaginal ultrasound. At that point, I was pretty sure they were seeing retained products in my uterus, but of course they weren't telling me anything, so I didn't know for sure.

Because the ultrasound was late in the afternoon, I didn't hear from my doctor (who had to get the results dictated from the radiologist) before my symptoms picked up. That evening, I passed another huge clot and then started just bleeding out. I don't know how else to describe it, but I literally could not leave the toilet, I was bleeding so much. Of course this worried me a lot and we started to think about going to the ER (as it was after hours now). I called my doctor's office on the on call line to be sure and they told me to definitely hurry to the ER.

Devin and I packed up and got to the ER around 7 or 7:30 PM. The ER doctor told me that he would get a hold of the ultrasound pictures from that afternoon and see what he thought. The next thing I knew, he was back in telling me that he had seen them, there was definitely something retained in there, and he had called my doctor, who was on his way in. Let me just pause here and say that this is blessing number 1. The ER doctor did not have to call in my doctor, he could have called the laborist to come see me, who was on call and already at the hospital. My doctor also did not have to come in. He wasn't on call; he was home with his family in the evening time. However, he made the decision to come in and see me, and I'll be forever grateful. He arrived and let me know that the best course of action was to take me in for a D & C, just to clean out everything that was in there. I remember him telling me it would be an easy 30 minute procedure and I would go home that night. I asked about pumping before hand and we decided that I would just wait until after since it would be so quick. The sweet nurse tracked down a pump and supplies and told me she would have it waiting for me in the recovery room.

I was wheeled down to the OR at around 8 pm. It was a fun little tour of the OR, a place I never go in the hospital (I was at the hospital where I work). I was transferred to the operating table and the anesthesiologist met me, put a mask on my face, and that's the last thing I remember.

The rest of the story is obviously second-hand, since I was out. Here is what I know. My doctor started the D & C and quickly saw that a portion of my placenta had grown into my uterine wall. When we talked about it later, he said that he thought this was there the entire pregnancy and said it was called Placenta Accreta. He had been confident that he had gotten the retained placenta out after Paris's birth, but this piece remained undetected. He was also unsure why I hadn't had any symptoms until 3 weeks later. 

My doctor started working to remove the piece of placenta from my uterine wall, which he said was made more difficult by the fact that a muscle had partially grown over it.  He said he had to be really aggressive in his attempts to remove it, but nothing was working. He eventually called in the laborist to assist him, so I had two OB/GYNs at that point, one running a camera inserted through my belly button in order to see things better and the other working on the removal. He said that there was also someone running an ultrasound at times. My doctor also mentioned that my uterus was tipped in a weird angle, complicating their ability to see the area they needed to see.

Devin was getting fairly nervous by this point as he had been told I would be out in 30 minutes. Nearly an hour and a half had passed without word. I think he talked to my mom a time or two and from the sounds of it, both were getting concerned about what was going on. My doctor called Devin around 9:30 PM from the OR to tell him of the complications. He called back 30 minutes later to tell Devin that through his continued attempts to get the retained placenta, he had accidentally perforated my uterus. I had lost a liter and a half of blood and required a blood transfusion by this point. He gave Devin options of what he could do, including attempting to repair the hole, but the retained placenta embedded in my uterine wall would remain an issue. He also said that a hysterectomy would be the safest option as it would stop the hemorrhaging and remove the original problem. Devin said later that he felt a lot of pressure having to make this decision without my consent, but he felt it was definitely the safest option and we had had prior conversations about being done having children, so he at least had that knowledge before consenting to the hysterectomy.

My doctor then cut me open and performed the partial hysterectomy. Luckily, I was able to retain my ovaries, which means that I will not go into immediate menopause and will not need to take hormones. I later asked my doctor when we were processing through all that had happened why he made the decision to do an open hysterectomy, instead of a laparoscopic one. He told me that mine is the 4th open hysterectomy he has ever needed to do, but he made the decision to do it that way because the situation was emergent. It sounds like I was losing a lot of blood and that was the safest way to quickly remove my uterus and remedy the situation.

The first thing I remember when waking up is how much pain I was in. I don't remember opening my eyes, but I remember saying over and over, "I am in pain. I am in pain!" The recovery nurse said, "Yes, you had some complications with your procedure." I asked her, "What kind of complications?" She said, "I can't tell you." Then the next thing I knew, she was on the phone to give a report to the nurse who was going to take me on the surgical floor. I heard her review my symptoms, the intent for a D & C, and then she said "And she ended up having a hysterectomy!!!" So, that's how I found out that I had had a hysterectomy. Not the best.

It was after 1 in the morning when I made it to my room and Devin was there waiting for me. I think I made him repeat 10 times what had happened (I was still drugged up), but I do remember understanding what had gone on and feeling like this was the best course of action, even though it was hard. (Don't worry-- mega emotions came later. I am going to make a whole separate post on that).

The hysterectomy was Tuesday night and I had to stay in the hospital until Friday night, first because I had lost a lot of blood and they wanted to make sure I did not need another transfusion, and second because they wanted to make sure my incision was healing well. I also had to be able to get up and move around on my own, walk the halls, and poop before they let me go. I was so happy to have my coworkers be able to visit me, and visit they did. I have the best co-workers, truly. Otherwise it would have just been me and Devin that whole time (no other visitors allowed). Devin stayed right by my side and I am so grateful. My mom came and got the kids for the week, which was so, so helpful. I also had fantastic nurses, most of whom I knew from working at the hospital. It's a little hard being on the other end of things, but since they knew me, I feel like they gave me extra care and concern. I was also seen by the physical therapist for a few days and I loved her help too.

One other note here... I had quit pumping cold turkey and that was also hard on me. I could have still pumped and dumped the milk for a time, but this just seemed like too much work for me, so I never pumped again after the surgery. This obviously caused physical pain, but was also difficult to have that taken from me not on my own terms. I sent home the last batch of milk from my freezer to Paris on Saturday, the day after I got home.

Last batch of milk going home with Paris. This was a labor of love!

Little gross for some, but it's not close up :) An incision in my lower belly and a laparoscopic scar in my belly button.

Update: When I later followed up with my doctor after the hysterectomy, pathology results showed that I had something called subinvolution of the placental site. He gave me a description of this and I have done some reading on it as well. It is a rare complication that causes secondary post partum hemorrhaging. Basically, part of my uterus did not "clamp down" as it normally would after delivery. It took some time to try to do this as it normally would, but took 3 weeks for me to then start hemorrhaging. My doctor did not know that this is what was going on with me when he took me in for the D & C. I had retained products in my uterus, which he struggled to get out. This caused him to perforate my uterus. Because this happened, I then ended up with a hysterectomy. He told me at my visit that he believes that everything happening the way it did was likely a blessing in my case. Even if he had remedied the retained products with a successful D & C, because we did not know I had the subinvolution going on, I would have gone home and continued to bleed. Secondary post partum hemorrhaging is the leading cause of maternal mortality. I may have thought the bleeding was normal or not worried as much after having just had a procedure. Honestly, the more I have read about this condition, the more I feel so grateful and blessed that things happened the way they did. They were horrible at the time, but with more knowledge, I feel confident that my life was spared that day because of the way things happened. The subinvolution of the placental site happens just randomly and we did not know about it. But because I had retained placenta, I went in for the D & C and because my doctor then perforated my uterus while trying to take out those embedded products, I needed a hysterectomy right then. I am so glad that I did not go home that night and continue to hemorrhage. At best, I would have ended up with a hysterectomy later anyway, and at worst, I could have hemorrhaged out and it could have cost me my life. 

More than ever, I am so grateful for the divine intervention that occurred in my life that day. I wrote about the spiritual experience Devin had that day in the emergency room and the line of my patriarchal blessing, which literally goes right in line with what happened. My blessing promises me what came to pass in my behalf that day. Miracles are real. God is present in our lives. I have no doubt of this. 

My Journey as a Gestational Carrier: The Emotional Side

I guess I am going to continue to use the blog for the time being as a place to keep processing my journey as a GC. This whole thing has so many layers and I feel it is something that has impacted my life so significantly (in the very most positive way). It has been 3 weeks since Paris's birth, but the whole journey from start to finish has been constantly on my mind. I am sure with the passing of more time, it will be less "present" in my life,if you will, but for now, it is very present for me and something I continue to think about and want to talk about often. I believe that this experience will be one of the most impactful of my life. 

The number one question I have gotten from the start is about my attachment to Paris. People asked how I felt abut her often during the pregnancy and since her birth, the same question has come, plus how I have been handling everything emotionally. I am super happy to answer questions. Talking/writing about this is very therapeutic for me, so I appreciate those that ask about the various aspects of it.

One thing I felt was lacking during my preparation for my gestational carrier process is information on how others who have been through this felt about the baby they carried and what attachment was like for them along with what emotions were like after the birth.  It doesn't seem to be talked about very often- it's more like the logistics and physical symptoms that are discussed. So, here's my take...I am sure everyone is different, but this is my two cents and a little bit about what the emotional side has been like for me.

During the pregnancy, I feel like I did a really good job preparing myself and my emotions for the fact that this baby was not going home with me. I knew from the start that she was someone else's biological child and that she would be going home with them- all good things, and after all, that's what the whole process was for. This knowledge made the pregnancy fairly easy in regards to not developing a strong attachment to Paris. I was most excited during the process when her parents were involved and to see their excitement at her upcoming arrival after so many years of heartache and loss. However, I do think it's important to acknowledge that it was impossible (for me-- I won't speak for everyone) to not form some attachment to the baby...simply because I carried her for 9 months. I knew her movements, her hiccups, when she was up and partying, etc. I didn't have the same level of attachment to her as I did when I carried my own kids-- I don't think because of the biology (I don't believe in that, obviously. I love my adopted children as much as my biological children)- but because I knew the outcome and mentally prepared for her to go home with her family at the end.

When Paris was born, it was the best feeling in the world to see her meet her parents and to see her attachment to them and theirs to her. It was amazing and so fulfilling. I was on such a high at the hospital from watching everything unfold that I did not stop to check in with my own emotions or to assess how I was doing. It was not until a day or two after I got home that I had a huge emotional crash. The first week or so was pretty bad (just ask Devin!). I was fine one minute and completely not fine the next. I know that hormones are crazy after birth and I am normally pretty emotional for a few weeks after delivering, so I knew that at least some of what was going on was normal for me. However, I also had to acknowledge over time that I was feeling more than just the normal hormones. As I took the time to really sit with my emotions and try to dig into what I was feeling (and with the help of talking through things with multiple people), I recognized that I didn't feel like I got a lot of closure with baby Paris. She was with me one minute and then not the next. I mentioned in her birth story that I did not spend a lot of time with Paris in the hospital out of respect for her parents and for their bonding process, but as the first week passed, I recognized that I probably should have held Paris a little bit more and maybe spent one-one-one time with her to get that closure I was needing. I needed to say hello and goodbye to her in a more meaningful way than what I did. And just a note- all of this was completely my fault, not her parents', because they offered that time to me and I declined it. 

Josh and Janelle have been so amazing to send me regular pictures and videos and these have been super helpful and meaningful to me. Everyone is different in what they want, I am sure, but it helps me to see how well they are doing, how she is growing, and to see just how loved she is. Her family is over the moon for her and it is obvious. Seeing this and knowing this has been super fulfilling for me. It also continues to reiterate my decision to do this and that it was absolutely the right thing. Those pictures and videos helped a lot the first week. 

A few days after Paris turned a week old, Josh and Janelle brought her up to my house so that my kids could meet her. They were not allowed into the hospital because of COVID-19 and we all agreed that it was important for my kids to see her and spend a little time with her for closure purposes as well. The kids all held her briefly and we talked about their experience with the pregnancy and answered questions. By the way, this is another big question I get, about how my kids have handled this all. They have been troopers and totally understood from the beginning what was happening and why. We talked about it a few Sundays after Paris's birth as a family to allow them to process their feelings and they all had very little to say other then that they thought she was cute and it was great that she got to go home with her family.

When Josh and Janelle came to visit that day, they offered to let me feed Paris her bottle and I decided that I needed to take the opportunity to spend some time with her. Though my kids each held her briefly, I held her the majority of that visit. It was incredibly healing for me and so helpful. As soon as they left, I felt this huge emotional weight lifted from me. I felt like I got the time I needed with Paris- I got to stare at her little face, look at the hands and feet that were so recently kicking and hitting me from the inside, and get a feel for her little personality. The abstract concept of the baby I carried became a reality in front of me. I felt a huge sense of closure and peace after that visit. 

We have since visited another time with Paris and her family and I know that won't be the last time we see them. The 2nd visit was much more lighthearted for me and it was much easier emotionally. It felt more like just a happy visit with friends and their new baby. Since the first visit, I have felt happy, peaceful, and far, far less emotional. 

People have asked me if I feel sad not to have the baby with me or if I get a sense that Paris is my baby when I look at pictures and videos. I don't feel any of this and I never have. My emotions have never been sadness at not having Paris with me anymore. I am super happy to watch from a distance as Josh and Janelle get to take care of her, get up at night, change all the diapers, etc. I think the emotions just were more of just a physical reaction to being pregnant and then not all the sudden with no real chance in between to process and say goodbye to Paris.

Emotionally, I feel like I am doing very well now. I do feel this sense of being changed through this process that I am pretty sure I won't have any capacity to put into words. At it's simplest form, I feel in awe of the many miracles that occurred and being privileged enough to be in the middle of it. I am certain I had no idea when I started this process how deeply spiritual it would be. I think going in, I thought this would be a little blip on my life journey, but I now see that in addition to my children's adoptions, it will forever be one of the biggest ways I have seen the hand of God in my life.

2nd visit with Paris post birth. 

Paris's Birth Story

Here we go. The full details of Paris's birth story. Read on at your own risk since I tend to be very detailed! And, it may be TMI for some that don't love all the gory details of birth.

Sunday night, May 3, I started having fairly regular and uncomfortable contractions. I would not call them painful, but they were definitely uncomfortable. I walked around some, laid down, and sat and they didn't go away, so I started thinking they were maybe the real deal. Having never gone into labor on my own though, it was really easy to second guess myself. I finally decided it was worth going to the hospital to get checked out because I feared that if it was the real thing, I would have the baby fast (as per my other births) and I definitely did not want Josh and Janelle to miss their daughter's birth. Turns out, the joke was on me as this labor was nothing like any of my others! But, we will get to that.

Devin and I arrived at the hospital at around midnight. I was still having regular contractions, but they were not that uncomfortable. We got checked into a room and the nurse checked me and I was 6 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She also kept mentioning that I had a "bulgy bag of waters". I was super stoked at hearing these numbers because I was pretty sure there was no way they would send me home at that point. I asked her if this meant I was staying and she said she would have to call my doctor to confirm, but it was highly unlikely they would send me home. Sure enough, they called him and things were a go!

This is my "yay-- we are here and get to stay and this is going to go fast" face. Again, joke was on me...

 I had called Josh and Janelle on the way to the hospital and let them know we were heading in, but told them not to start coming until I knew they were keeping me. After we got confirmation that I was staying, I called them again and they headed up. They had to drop their son off with family and gather some things, so I think they arrived close to 2 am. I had just been walking the halls trying to keep things moving along until they arrived. I didn't want to get an epidural or have them break my water until I was sure they were there. After they arrived, they checked me again and I was 7 cm. The nurse and I then chatted about the next steps. I didn't want to get an epidural until I was in pain and I really wasn't in pain yet. I wanted to be able to get up and walk around, take myself to the bathroom, etc. The nurse told me that they could have the on call doc break my water and move things right along, but if I opted for that, I would probably want to have the epidural first since it would probably make things move quickly. (I had been induced with Lizzie and only had my water broken, no pitocin and things moved fast, so I also thought the same would happen). I agreed with the plan and we moved forward with the epidural first and then the on call doctor broke my water. This was probably around 3 am. I expected that things would progress quickly from there. Instead, the opposite happened and everything stalled.

The night nurse continued to check me every half hour or so and I was at 8 cm every single time. It started to get old to hear the same thing over and over. None of use knew what the heck was going on or why I was not progressing. We finally all decided to get a little bit of sleep and see what happened. Josh and Janelle went to their own room next door and slept for a while and Devin slept on the couch in my room. I didn't sleep at all. I was just anxious for things to proceed. The night nurse had told me she was sure we would have the baby by the end of her shift. Well, that didn't happen. The day nurse then came on and started the same process, checking me every half hour and continuing to tell me I was at an 8. She looked as confused as I felt every time. We decided to start some pitocin to see if we could move things along. She told me my doctor had a scheduled c-section at 7:30 AM and it would be great if we could have the baby before then. I agreed. We upped the pit every 15 minutes as allowed with still no progress. It was crazy. We are talking hours and hours of sitting at 8 cm.


This is the hey, I have been making no progress for hours and hours face...

Finally, the nurse checked me again and told me I was at a 9. She also said that she all the sudden felt what she called a "forebag" of water. I had no idea what this meant, but have since learned from my handy midwife cousins that it essentially means that after they broke my water, a portion of it resealed itself and in my case, likely blocked the progress of my cervix dilating or the baby moving down. Lucky me. The nurse mentioned that we would need to wait for the doctor to break my water again and at that point, it was 7:30 on the dot, so he was headed into his c-section. She told me we would just wait for him to be done and go from there. They turned the pit down just in case and let me just hang out. She told me to let her know if I started feeling pressure to push, but otherwise we would just wait. Another hour or so went by. Josh, Janelle, and Devin were all awake by now and back in my room hanging out with me.

The nurse came to check me again and as she did, I had a contraction and the combination of the contraction and the checking broke the forebag of water. It was a huge gush this time, instead of the trickle it had been the first time it was broken. It was so strange. Almost immediately after the water broke the 2nd time, I started having the intense urge to push. I told the nurse that I needed to start pushing and she told me to wait 10 minutes as that is how long the doctor expected to be finishing up the c-section. I tried my hardest, but I will tell you that when you need to push, you need to push. I couldn't wait. I told her I didn't care who delivered the baby, just to get someone in there because I needed to push right then. There is always a laborist on at the hospital, so the nurse called the laborist to come assist. I was a little bummed that my doctor would not be delivering at that point, but I really didn't care too much as I just needed someone to help me get the baby out.

The doctor arrived and it was the weirdest thing. She stood by my bed, not gowned up, not gloved, and said "I'll just be here if you need anything!". I was thinking, "Umm, yes, I need you to deliver this baby!" It was soo strange. I told her I needed to start pushing. At this point, Janelle and I have talked about it and decided that it was absolutely a tender mercy given what came next, this doctor (who I did not know at all) said, "Actually, why don't I run down and switch Dr. Rynearson (my doctor) out of the c-section. I will finish up the stitching and he can come deliver you." I agreed that this would be great and held off a few more minutes of pushing while she ran to switch him and he ran into the room.

When he arrived, I immediately started pushing. It quickly became apparent that something was wrong, though I did not know until later what. I could tell on Dr. Rynearson's face and on the nurse's face that something was up. They kept looking at the monitors and got more direct in their commands for me to push. I was doing my best, but apparently not good enough. The doctor told me he was giving me one more time to push and then he was going to use a vacuum to assist in pulling Paris out. I pushed as best I could, but she didn't come. He pulled out the vacuum and attempted once to get her out that way, but it popped off her head. He tried a second time and was able to get her further down the birth canal, but not all the way out before it popped off again.  At this point, they told me I had to get her out on this last push. They tried the vacuum one more time and this time it stuck on her head and pulled her all the way down the birth canal. Paris's head then got stuck on my pubic bone and her shoulder also got stuck on the way out. It felt like he was up to his elbow yanking her out. I was in so much pain. I am not sure if the epidural was not working well or if it was just that painful, but it was awful. The worst pain I have been in during birth, hands down. I was apparently not regulating myself well either, so they stuck me on oxygen at the last part to keep my breathing normal. 

Finally, Paris came all the way out. She was screaming bloody murder, which put me at ease right away. They put her on my belly and waited one minute and then Janelle was able to cut her cord. After she was out, the feeling in the room was indescribable. There was such a feeling of peace and such a strong spirit. I looked at Josh and Janelle meeting their baby for the first time and everything felt so worth it. It was incredible. They were both crying and watching them caused my tears to flow even harder. I was crying so hysterically that I could barely breathe. I always get emotional after delivering my babies, but this was like emotions on steroids. I could not stop crying. I was so, so happy to see this all come to fruition and to see the miracle happen for Josh and Janelle after so many years of heartache. I think I was also feeling extra emotional because I was relieved that Paris was doing well and relieved that it was all over. I also had this odd sense of pride. I remember thinking, "I did that! I grew that baby from a tiny cell that we couldn't even see with the naked eye when it went in into a full sized baby!" Science, technology, the human body, and God are all really incredible things. When Janelle and I talked later, she used the word "sacred" to describe the emotions in the room. I think this perfectly describes the feeling.

I watched as they took Paris to weigh her on the other side of the room and Josh and Janelle followed along. She was born at 9:06 AM and weighed 7 pounds, 3 ounces. She was born at 37.3 weeks gestation, so imagine if she had gone 3 more weeks! I think I just grow big babies. Genetically, she should be smaller than my kiddos because Josh and Janelle are smaller than Devin and I, but what can I say, I like to eat :)

Josh and Janelle then took Paris to their room so they could do skin to skin time and bond with her. In the meantime, my pain and agony were not over. I apparently had all the luck this day and had a piece of retained placenta. They had gotten the larger portion of my placenta out, but a portion remained. Dr. Rynearson was pounding on my belly, pushing things, shoving things, had his arm up to his elbow up you-know-where...so many fun things. And again, I was feeling all of this. I don't think this helped me calm down any, but eventually he did emerge with the piece of retained placenta and all seemed well.

These are the only two pictures Devin took. Really good photography, huh? Janelle is great at taking pictures, and luckily she has many more good ones. 

 The next morning, when my doctor came to round on me, I asked him the details of what had happened in the birth. Here's my layman's interpretation. He said that Paris had a very short umbilical cord (and I did see it after her birth, it was super super short), so when she started to descend in the birth canal, it essentially cut off her supply of oxygen. He said she went into bradycardia (her heart rate was too slow) for a prolonged time frame. This is what he and the nurse were watching on the monitors. He said it was a 6-7 minute window that her sats were half of what they should have been and that's why he jumped into emergency mode and did everything he could to get her out right then and there. He commented that he knew that Josh and Janelle have been through so much and he did not want to take any chances on a bad outcome for them. He told me he could tell my epidural wasn't really working and he was sorry for all the pain he caused getting her out, but he felt it was necessary. I don't blame him at all and I am so grateful for his skills and competence in getting Paris here safely. Both Janelle and I later had separate feelings that it was truly divine intervention that the laborist had the idea to go switch him out of the c-section so he was the one to attend the birth. I am sure she is great, but it was such a relief to have the doctor who knows me well, who knows Josh and Janelle's story, and who we trusted be there to deliver Paris. He also ran cord blood gasses on Paris after her birth to be sure all was well and he let me know that her numbers were perfect, so that was good news.

I forgot to mention a part of the story that I will mention now. When I was stuck at an 8 for all those hours, I started to feel some sense of panic that I would for some reason end up in a c-section if things didn't start to progress. I absolutely did not want this. I could feel my anxiety rising, so I asked Devin to give me a blessing. Josh and Janelle were in their room sleeping, but Devin did give me a blessing and blessed me that I would be able to have a vaginal birth and that the birth would be guided and that Paris would arrive safely. This blessing gave me such peace and I have no doubt, helped in Paris's birth as that is exactly what happened.

Cutest family with their new little one. I love this picture. They just look so incredibly happy.

After Paris was born, I ate breakfast, took a long nap (I hadn't slept at all all night), and showered. I then felt ready to have Josh and Janelle bring Paris back over so I could officially meet her. It was around 3 in the afternoon and they spent an hour or an hour and a half with us. It was so surreal to hold this perfect little baby who so recently had been my belly buddy. I spent some time with her and Devin did as well before we passed her back to her parents. I wanted to be really respectful of Josh and Janelle's time with Paris after her birth and their bonding process, so I did not spend a lot of time holding her and didn't spend any one on one time with her. We had a video call that evening with my kids so they could see her and I held her again then. I also very briefly held her to say goodbye the next morning when I was being discharged. 

I kept a journal for Paris throughout my pregnancy with her. I made a final entry in the journal the night of her birth and gave it to her parents (they didn't know about it) the next morning, along with a crocheted baby elephant we had made for Paris. Keeping the journal was therapeutic for me during the pregnancy, but I also hope that if Paris has questions some day about what her pregnancy was like, or how I felt during the process, what I craved, what I looked like while pregnant with her, etc. she will have access to those answers as part of her story. Being able to do that for her was really meaningful for me. 

"meeting" Paris for the first time

This is maybe my favorite picture ever. It just shows the love for this sweet baby. I hope she always knows what a miracle she is!

There aren't really words to describe my emotions through this whole process and what it has been like for me to be able to be involved in getting Paris here. So, I'll just echo what I said on social media when we announced her birth and repeat that it has been one of my greatest honors and joys in life to be able to assist in bringing this baby to earth and to the arms of her parents. 

My Journey as a Gestational Carrier: Part 4 (The Pregnancy!)

This one might turn out to be kind of a photo dump! We started the process again in August to get me ready for a September transfer. I did another water ultrasound, which showed that I needed yet another hysteroscopy. Lucky me! 

Water ultrasound day

Post hysteroscopy-- thanks to my sister-in-law Shawna who drove me home and got me my favorite drink. I was loopy, clearly. No video this time though!

 Shots started again in preparation for our Sept 4 transfer day!

There was a lot of this for a lot of the time....

 Finally, Sept 4 rolled around and we were ready again! This time, we watched again the little embryo on the screen in the lab before they inserted it into my uterus through a little tiny straw. The embryo was too small to see with the naked eye, but we each held an enlarged picture of it in our hands from straight out of the freezer. As we looked at the embryo on the screen, it was obvious that it had changed shape since the picture was taken. The doctor commented that the little embryo was shifting and looking for something to grip onto. In that moment, I felt this amazing peace and that this round was going to work. It seemed like our little embryo was a fighter and she was going to stick.

lucky socks, round 2!

Ready for transfer!

 

Transfer day #2!

This picture should have gone on the last post, since it is the first transfer day, but oh well!

During the wait for the official Hcg test results, I of course started taking pregnancy tests. They were again all positive. I remember going to the dollar store and buying enough pregnancy tests that I could take one multiple times per day. What can I say-- I was anxious and wanted to make sure the line was getting darker each time. Oh, the funny things we do. I didn't need to worry. The first Hcg level was high and the second and third more than doubled each time, just like they wanted them to. We were officially pregnant!

From there, the pregnancy was fairly routine. I think it took a minute to sink in that this was reality and that it was really truly happening (for me, and I am sure even more so for Josh and Janelle!) The first trimester was full of feeling sick, but not throwing up and feeling extra tired. I needed to continue the daily progesterone shot through 10 weeks of pregnancy as well, which was fun, fun, fun. Most of the time, Devin gave them to me, but I had to learn to do them myself for times when he couldn't. 

We attended appointments at the fertility center through the first trimester before graduating to my regular OB. Cute Paris had a personality from the beginning and even though we had an ultrasound at every single appointment (fertility clinic and my doctor), she was always in a position where we could not see her face well. She also had the hiccups often and would keep her hands in front of her face. It seemed like a standard position for her. 

Oddly, at the start of the second trimester, I started throwing up and kept this up through week 20 of the pregnancy, when I finally started to feel better. The 2nd half of the 2nd trimester was the sweet spot, where I felt more energized, not huge, and not sick anymore.

1st ultrasound picture!


1st ultrasound



I think this is graduation day from the fertility clinic! It must have felt so great after so many years of treatments.


Josh and Janelle gave me this journal after our first transfer in a basket of all sorts of cute things. I decided to use the journal as a way to keep a record for Paris of her pregnancy and what it was like for me. I somewhat faithfully kept the journal through the pregnancy with ultrasound pictures that my sweet doctor would slip me when the couple wasn't looking, week by week graphics on the baby's growth, what I was craving, etc, and my thoughts about how things were progressing. I want Paris to have some information about what things were like during her pregnancy, should she want it some day. It was actually quite therapeutic for me to keep the journal as well. Josh and Janelle did not know I was keeping the journal and I gave it to them after I made a final entry in it at the hospital after Paris's birth.


20 week ultrasound.

I am not sure when this was- after one of our appointments I am sure.


This was the last doctor's appointment Josh and Janelle were able to come to with me due to the crazy COVID-19 stuff. I am pretty sure I was 32 weeks here.

Josh, Janelle, and I continued to develop our relationship. They came to every doctor's appointment, ultrasound, and visit until dumb COVID-19 prevented them from coming at the end. We got together multiple times as families. They have a sweet 9 year old son, Conner, who we got to know as well. It was wonderful developing a strong friendship with them throughout this process. We could not have asked for a better match and developed a genuine love and care for them. They treated me so well, often sending meals or treats, mailing me a surprise if I needed it, and just being there for me emotionally. They were truly fantastic every step of the way and were genuinely concerned for my welfare and well-being.

The 3rd trimester was pretty good, minus the insane heartburn I had. That's totally normal for me in pregnancy though too. I felt pretty good through the end. I had the normal pelvic pain and things that come with getting bigger. One thing that was different this time is that my legs and feet swelled quite a bit at the end, meaning I needed to wear compression socks to keep them in check. Talk about feeling like an 85 year old! :) 

At about 35 weeks, I had my cousin, who is a midwife, check my cervix. I was pretty sure my body would be following the same pattern it has in the past. She said I was 4 cm dilated and 80% effaced. As I suspected, my body was getting ready, but I knew that it could be weeks still until I delivered as I always walk around this way for weeks beforehand. At 36 weeks, my doctor checked me and called me the same- 4 cm and 80%. At my 37 week appointment, he again said the same, except he said I was more like a "4+" whatever that means! I was kind of getting frustrated with hearing the same thing over and over each time, but kept telling myself that I just needed to make it to the next week's appointment and then I could worry about the week after that then. One week at a time. Each week at the end of pregnancy feels like 1000 years, I am here to tell you. This was no different. I started feeling really, really ready to be done and was getting emotional with the lack of progress and change. We scheduled an induction date for May 15, at 39 weeks, so it was something to look forward to. But still....I was ready to get the show on the road. 

One thing I should note that I was totally grateful for is that I did not get cholestasis this pregnancy. I had it with Lizzie and it is common to get it in a subsequent pregnancy, but I was blessed and did not have it this time. While it was a blessing to not have it because it makes you itch like crazy, it was also weird to go past the point when I delivered Lizzie (36.4 weeks) with this pregnancy. I think it made each day beyond that point emotionally more difficult for me. It's all a mental game at the end. But luckily, I did not have to wait too much longer than that for Paris to come.

Birth story coming next. Here are pictures of the belly progress throughout the pregnancy!

20 weeks

24 weeks

28 weeks

32 weeks

35 weeks

37 weeks

37 weeks- last pictures before Paris made her arrival!

My Journey as a Gestational Carrier: Part 3

Shortly after I posted what I shared at the end of my last blog entry on social media, a close friend of mine that I have known for years through the adoption world reached out to me. She told me that her cousin was looking for a gestational carrier and she shared a post with me where her cousin had posted her own story on social media. The couple's post had come within weeks of my own. This couple posted that for health reasons, they were looking to move forward with building their family through using a gestational carrier. They mentioned in the post that they had had a previous carrier and had a few failed attempts with her and they were now looking for someone else to continue the journey with them. I was immediately touched by their post and could tell that they had been through so much to get to that point. I told our mutual contact, Jessica, that I would talk to her cousin, Janelle, but I wasn't promising anything. Remember, at this point, I genuinely felt that my journey was likely over.

I remember when I first got a text from Janelle asking if she could call. I was driving to Tremonton for a home study and I was almost there. I told her I would call her right when I was done and we could chat on my drive home. I called her without having any expectations for how the call would go. It seemed like we were both in a similar situation that we had been through some hard things with our previous matches and we both just sort of ended up talking about what each of us had been through to that point. After we shared our stories, we agreed that we would talk again soon after we got the opportunity to talk to our spouses. 

For some odd reason, I remember each of the first few times I talked to Janelle on the phone. The second time, I was in the Winco parking lot, waiting to go in for groceries. This time, we continued the conversation and both agreed tentatively that we might want to look at moving forward. I told Janelle that I would take steps in that direction until something didn't feel right and if and when that happened, I would stop. I was really hesitant because of my previous experience, but felt a drawn to Janelle, even before meeting her in person. I started to pray about this potential match and oddly, felt a little let down by the fact that I didn't seem to get a burning answer like I felt like I had with the previous couple. However, nothing felt wrong or off, so I continued forward. 

The first time Devin and I met Josh and Janelle was at their house. They invited us over for dinner and this alone was a big change to me. They were obviously comfortable having us in their home right from the start. I felt a huge connection to them while we chatted over dinner and shared stories. They were so kind, gracious, and humble. I felt immediately that this was a couple that I could build a friendship with and have a natural relationship with in the future. Remember with the first couple, the idea of having an ongoing relationship after birth was a bit foreign to them. This couple felt completely different and it felt like our relationship would just build naturally, so it wouldn't be weird at all to keep in touch after the birth. 

As I have tried to make sense of this lack of "burning" answer that I mentioned, I can now see clearly that I didn't need a burning sign from heaven. I had already been given that in order to get me on the path. After that, it was little things, mostly the relationship differences that I noticed with Josh and Janelle that made me feel good about moving forward. I can see now that I needed the experience with the first couple to contrast to help me see how wonderful it truly was with Josh and Janelle. I definitely do not mean to imply that the first couple were awful people; they truly were not. We were just on the same page more quickly with Josh and Janelle. I can see now that I had already been given the big answers that I needed and I needed to just move forward in faith with Josh and Janelle. 

After we left Josh and Janelle's house, Devin and I talked and decided we felt good about moving forward. I can't remember how that conversation went with Josh and Janelle, or who approached who first to say that we were wanting to move forward, but it just felt mutually agreeable and good all the way around.

This picture was actually taken in December 2019 when I was already pregnant, but it's the first that we have all together

From there, it was full steam ahead. Because we had completed many of the steps with the previous couple, we were ready to jump right into the medical clearance. I began this process in the spring of 2019. I started with blood draws and a water ultrasound. It was determined that I needed a procedure called a hysteroscopy to clean out my uterus really well before starting. During this time, we also completed legal contracts, which are required for all 3rd party reproduction processes. Josh and Janelle and I were unique in this regard in that we did not involve any outside parties or agencies, which is typically what happens, to negotiate the terms of this contract for us. Instead, we felt that we wanted to develop our own relationship and lines of communication, so we sat down and determined all the terms of the contract between ourselves. I loved that they trusted me enough to do this and I trusted them enough to do it this way. It really set the tone for our relationship and like I said, open lines of communication. 

Me after the hysteroscopy. I also have a video while I was drugged up bragging to my family about how nice my uterus is. I have posted it on social media before, but may have to dig it up again. I was clearly loopy. 

After this, we began the first rounds of shots and hormones in preparation for the embryo transfer June 19. Josh and Janelle had two embryos, both girls, that were frozen and ready for transfer. We had agreed to a SET (single embryo transfer) only. I went into the embryo transfer in June completely confident that it would work. This was their better embryo, we all had spiritual experiences confirming we were on the right path, and my hormone levels, lining, etc. were all looking perfect. 

The first box of shots arrives! I did estrogen shots twice weekly and progesterone shots daily for the weeks leading up to transfer. 

Devin almost enjoyed it too much that he got to give me a shot in the butt every morning. 

lovely daily progesterone shot

Transfer day #1. There is a "lucky sock" program that a UIRC sponsors so that everyone gets a pair of lucky socks to wear during transfer. I brought some for Janelle too. 

I can't remember the exact timeline, but it is about a week or so after the transfer that I started going in for blood draws to determine my Hcg levels to see if I was pregnant. I had already snuck a pregnancy test, which was positive, so I was fairly confident. The first result was a little bit lower than they like to see it, but they were not too concerned. I went again every few days for draws and went in for the last one on the day I left for Idaho to spend time with my best friends from high school for a mini reunion. While we were at a barbecue at our friend's house with a lot of our big friend group from high school, I looked down to see that I had missed multiple calls from the fertility clinic. I stepped away to call them back to be told that my levels had dropped significantly and this was not a viable pregnancy. They called it a "chemical pregnancy". I was so surprised and devastated. It only took a few days for my body to start the process of miscarrying the little embryo. This loss was really hard on me. I truly had felt so confident in the process and in my body's ability to carry Josh and Janelle's baby. I was worried that if the better embryo didn't take, our chances with the second would be worse. I felt worst for Josh and Janelle, who now had 3 losses in a row after two embryo transfers with their prior carrier and one with me. This in addition to years and years of other losses, which I won't go into since it is their story to tell. Suffice it to say, I was truly feeling the most for them. 

My cute kids gave me this letter after the first embryo transfer. We talked to them from the very beginning about what was going on and what we were doing and why. There have been a lot of questions about how my kids have handled this whole process and it has truly not been difficult for them to comprehend or support. We talked about how families are built in different ways (like our own) and that this was an opportunity for us to help another family grow. 

First positive pregnancy test. You can see why I was confident going in to the Hcg draws that all was going to be well!

Getting darker with time

This is the day I started the process of miscarrying the embryo. We went to Hebgen Lake and met up with some of Camille's friends who have a cabin there. They took us boating and everyone got to surf behind the boat, except me for obvious reasons and Camille who was pregnant. I carried Kylee's baby around all day (thus the baby on my chest!) so that she could swim and boat. Though I was happy to be with my friends, my emotions were at the surface and I was pretty sad that day and the days to come. 

The failed transfer/miscarriage occurred in early July. We took some time to regroup and then started the process once again.