My husband, Kyle, and I couldn’t wait to start a family together. We found out we were expecting when the fetus was the size of a poppy seed and started calling “her” Poppy. We were already envisioning our future family of three. We naively thought getting pregnant was the hard part.
We couldn’t wait to see our little one on the ultrasound, but when the tech started looking, we could instantly tell something was wrong. The doctor thought it was most likely a missed miscarriage but wanted to do another ultrasound in a few days to be sure.
Those few days felt like a lifetime. Our hopes were crushed when it was confirmed to be a missed miscarriage. She recommended medication to pass the tissue, but that didn’t work for me, and I ended up needing a D&C.
We were told by our doctor that this was a one-off and that our next pregnancy would be successful. We were absolutely devastated by our loss but did our best to stay hopeful. It took us a bit longer to get pregnant the second time, but when we did, we were over the moon—only to be told at our first appointment that it was another missed miscarriage.
We came in a few days later for a D&C and made sure they did an ultrasound to check before the procedure. To our astonishment, our little one had grown, and there was a strong heartbeat. Everything looked great, and we were crying happy tears.
Our previous loss—and being told our second pregnancy was a missed miscarriage—caused a lot of stress during the pregnancy, but we did our best to keep it to a minimum. Fast forward to 24 weeks, and I had a small amount of bleeding. We went in to get checked, and they did an ultrasound and a digital exam and said everything looked perfect.
The digital exam hurt a lot. I screamed out in pain, and afterward I had bad cramping and bleeding. They told me it was all normal and sent us home. At home, the pain and bleeding continued, and I was throwing up and couldn’t even keep water down. When I called multiple times, they said that was normal after a digital exam and to call back if I couldn’t sleep overnight. After a while, I called again and said we were coming in because it didn’t feel right.
As soon as I put my things down in the exam room, my water broke. I instantly started bawling. Our son, whom we named Luke, and I battled for a few more days to keep him inside so he could grow more, but in the end, his heart stopped. In order for us to meet him, the doctor reached inside me and attempted to deliver him. He was breech, and after a few tries, they were able to get his body out, but his head was stuck. I had to wait for my body to dilate before I could hold him. I don’t know how many of those chalky pills I took, but a few hours later, I was finally able to give birth to him.
Luke Jay had the most perfect nose and toes. Everything about him was perfect. Losing him is the worst thing we’ve ever experienced. It is so unfair, and we wish more than anything that he were alive in our arms. They did testing, and nothing was wrong, so we were left without an explanation for why we lost our son.
Due to my preterm premature rupture of membranes and the chance of recurrence, surrogacy was brought up as an option, and we decided to pursue it. We signed up with an agency, created embryos, and waited.
I actually posted to see if I could find someone interested in being our surrogate. Of all the responses, there was one very kind woman who seemed like a perfect fit. She had been a surrogate twice before through our agency. We told our agency we were interested in officially matching, and then we waited some more while they went through the necessary steps with her.
While we waited, I had a polyp removed to ensure it wasn’t cancerous. After the procedure, I was told I had either an arcuate uterus or a uterine septum. I had an MRI and found out I had a uterine septum. My doctors would not say this was the reason for my previous losses, but after joining a group of others with the condition and researching it, I found that it definitely could be. It also could have explained the very painful periods I’d experienced my whole life. They scheduled me for removal.
We officially matched with our surrogate. I had my septum removed and went for an MRI to confirm it. Little did I know, I was very early pregnant during that MRI—before a test would even pick it up. When we realized I was pregnant, we reached out to our surrogate and agency to share the news. We didn’t know if that meant surrogacy would be put on hold indefinitely.
Kyle and I were very excited but also terrified, since my pregnancies had only resulted in loss. Our wonderful surrogate was overjoyed for us and still wanted to proceed if we did. Not knowing if one, both, or neither would work out, we moved forward.
Since I was high-risk, I saw an MFM. I was on progesterone and also needed an iron infusion. Throughout my pregnancy, we overanalyzed every slightly abnormal result. It was exhausting, but we tried to stay positive. We were having a girl and already loved her so much.
Meanwhile, we transferred our highest-graded embryo to our surrogate, and it implanted. She was pregnant with our baby boy and due six months after me. Early on, she had a couple of subchorionic hematomas, but our baby boy kept growing, and his heartbeat stayed strong.
For the baby girl I was carrying, I had many scans, NSTs, and AFIs. She was breech and stayed that way. I tried everything to turn her—Spinning Babies, acupuncture, moxibustion—and was planning to try swimming and an ECV. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for months, and they had been getting closer together, but they were not painful.
I was at a routine NST and growth ultrasound appointment at 37 weeks when I asked for a digital exam. My MFM knew I had PTSD from my exam with Luke and said she didn’t think it was necessary because if I were in labor, I wouldn’t be able to calmly talk the way I was. But I wanted to be sure. During the check, she said, “Good thing we checked.” I instantly burst into worried tears because I knew that meant I was dilated. I was 2.5 to 3 cm dilated, and she said we would be meeting our daughter that day.
They wanted to get her out safely as soon as possible because we knew how quickly things could escalate based on what happened with Luke. If my water broke, it could turn into an emergency C-section with higher risks. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case, and everything went smoothly.
I will never forget them lowering the drape so we could see our daughter, Renley Rose, being lifted out. She immediately screamed, and I felt overwhelming happiness and relief—the best feeling. She was placed on my chest, and I couldn’t stop smiling and crying happy tears.
She had fluid in her lungs and couldn’t clear it, so she was taken to the NICU for a few hours. I did everything in my power to get the nurses to take me to her as soon as possible, and I FaceTimed Kyle in the meantime so I could see her.
One of my favorite memories was bringing her home. We stayed a little longer in the hospital because she wasn’t keeping her milk down and was losing too much weight. Later, we found out she had reflux, jaundice, and a lip and tongue tie. It was so hard seeing her struggle and be in pain, but after a few months and some medication, she started thriving.
Meanwhile, her little brother continued to grow big and strong in our incredible surrogate. We made recordings talking to him and reading him stories for our surrogate to play through belly buds. Renley even joined in and made some sounds for him.
We loved watching him move around during ultrasounds. At one appointment, the MFM in Eugene noted that our surrogate’s uterine scar was very thin from previous C-sections and needed to be rechecked. At the follow-up, it looked about the same, and we felt some relief—but then the MFM told us he should be delivered early because if there were a uterine window and it ruptured, he could die within 30 minutes.
We were stressed every day until his scheduled birthday, but our surrogate had no signs of complications, and he continued to grow strong. On the day he was born, I was in the room, while Kyle and her husband stood outside watching through a window.
I’ll never forget holding her hand and seeing our son, Drew Jay, lifted up. He was so adorable. I had worried about bonding with him, but the moment I saw him, I felt that deep connection and love.
Renley struggled a lot in the beginning and couldn’t transfer milk while breastfeeding, eventually only taking a bottle. I pumped for her for the first six months, and later I tried breastfeeding Drew. He took to it immediately, and we got to share that wonderful experience.
We are so fortunate to have these two living miracle babies, but we will always remember their big brother, Luke, and wonder what he would be like as we watch Renley and Drew grow up. Luke should be here with them. There will always be a huge piece missing in our family.
We all love you, Luke.
Find out more about Project Finding Your Rainbow.
Make sure to follow Journey For Jasmine on Instagram, Facebook, and Tik-Tok!
Listen to the Finding Hope After Loss Podcast!