Ashley B’s Story

On May 12, 2022, Hunter and I started trying for a baby. We were full of excitement, hope, and dreams about growing our little family. That very first month, we conceived. It felt like a miracle, and on May 27, 2022, we found out we were pregnant. But only a short time later, our world came crashing down. Around 6 weeks pregnant, I miscarried our baby.

Nothing prepares you for the pain of losing a child you already loved so deeply. I remember feeling completely broken, confused, and desperate for answers. June 19, 2022 was the first day I started feeling somewhat like myself again after sinking into such a deep depression. The hardest part was not understanding why it happened.

Months later, on October 23, 2022, we experienced another loss — a chemical pregnancy. By then, I felt defeated. I kept asking myself why my body was failing me. I begged for answers, but my OB explained that one miscarriage was considered common and wouldn’t refer me to fertility specialists yet. But in my heart, I knew something wasn’t right.

On March 2, 2023, Hunter and I finally had our first consultation with a reproductive endocrinologist. They believed my first miscarriage may have been caused by abnormal chromosomes and possibly scar tissue from having an IUD. We continued trying month after month, hoping every negative pregnancy test would eventually become positive.

But by April 28, 2023, every test was still negative. During an ultrasound, doctors found cysts on my ovaries. At the time, I didn’t even know what PCOS was. I wasn’t having regular menstrual cycles, and I had no idea my body was quietly fighting a battle I couldn’t see.

Then on July 7, 2023, our fertility doctor officially diagnosed me with PCOS. Thankfully, all of our chromosome testing came back healthy, which gave us some relief. But on the very same day, we were told we would have to leave that fertility clinic because we weren’t meeting their pregnancy success metrics within the expected timeframe. It felt like another door shutting in our faces. Then on October 3, 2023, we saw two pink lines again. For a moment, hope returned.

But that pregnancy ended in heartbreak too. We lost our sweet baby girl around 10 weeks due to Trisomy 18, also known as Edwards syndrome. Losing her changed me forever. The grief was unbearable, but so was the love I already had for her.

After losing her, I went back to my OB once again and pleaded for another fertility referral — this time to a clinic within their own company. Finally, we were accepted, and on June 18, 2024, we had our first appointment with our new fertility clinic.

This clinic looked deeper into everything. I went through procedures, ultrasounds, bloodwork, and endless testing. That’s when I finally learned I had thyroid issues. My thyroid levels were extremely elevated, and my doctor explained that untreated thyroid problems can contribute to miscarriages and infertility. She reassured me that my IUD had nothing to do with our losses, and Hunter’s testing showed completely healthy sperm results. For the first time in years, it felt like we were finally getting real answers.

Then came February 4, 2026 — the day we officially started Letrozole. It had taken years of heartbreak, waiting, testing, and fighting just to get there. I took two pills every day for five days straight, praying this would finally be our time.

On February 14, 2026, we did the trigger shot. At my appointment, everything looked perfect. I had two mature follicles on my right side, both measuring 18 mm. But when I first tested for pregnancy, it came back negative.

Hunter and I were devastated. We spent days feeling numb and discouraged, wondering if we were about to face another heartbreak. Trying to get our minds off things, we went antiquing in a small town and stopped for coffee. While we were walking down the street, a complete stranger walked up to us and handed us a baby Jesus figurine. They looked at us and said we were going to be blessed soon. We were stunned.

We didn’t know what it meant at the time, but a few days later, we took another pregnancy test. Positive. After years of infertility, miscarriages, unanswered questions, heartbreak, doctor appointments, procedures, medications, and prayers, God finally answered ours. Now, after everything we endured together, Hunter and I are expecting our healthy triple rainbow baby boy.

And what makes this story feel even more meaningful is our due date — 11/11.

Angel numbers.

To many people, 11:11 represents comfort, hope, alignment, and reassurance from heaven. For us, it feels like a sign from the babies we lost along the way. We truly believe they are still with us in spirit, watching over us and guiding us through this journey. Through every loss, every heartbreak, and every prayer, we believe our babies were helping lead us to their little brother. And now our rainbow baby boy carries a story of faith, perseverance, healing, and love that began long before he was ever here.