Ten Year Anniversary

Ten years ago today Josh and I got married. It's crazy to think of where our lives have taken us since then. I don't think we could've predicted much of it haha!

How it started:

How it's going:

A lot can happen in ten years, good and bad. Sometimes it feels like we go through hell, sometimes it feels like we're stuck, and sometimes we step back and see the good times and the magic.

The hard:
- Stillbirth
- Unemployment
- Mental health struggles
- Kidney stones
- Infertility
- Financial strain
- Suicide attempt
- Seizure
- Worker's comp fights
- Hospital visits (& bills)

The good:

- Visiting Harry Potter World

- Seeing Wicked
- College graduation

- Having twins
- Seeing the Grand Canyon

- Visiting each other's families

- Family snuggles

- The every day smiles and laughter
- Being there for each other when it's hard

- Being married to my best friend

Our lives have been a lot sometimes, but there is no one I would rather be with through all of it than Josh. He picks me up when I'm down, he laughs at my stupid jokes (usually ;) and makes me laugh, he nerds out with me, he is warm and compassionate, he is smart and talented, and he is my person.

And in honor of our tenth anniversary, I picked a couple songs to share some lyrics from ♥

"You and I
Happy ending and a tragedy combined
But we both can't live without it and we tried
We should take our own advice

Don't give up
There's a mountain in the middle of the road
It'll take a little longer to get home
Baby all we've got is time

You can't help when your stomach sinks
See your life happen in a flash
In your head it could be so real
That you almost feel the crash
The panic is temporary
But I'll be permanent
So when it hits, don't forget
As scary as it gets
It's just turbulence"

- Turbulence, Pink


"Can't count the years on one hand
That we've been together
I need the other one to hold you
Make you feel, make you feel better
It's not a walk in the park
To love each other
But when our fingers interlock
Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it

Cause after all this time, I'm still into you

I should be over all the butterflies
But I'm into you
And baby even on our worst nights
I'm into you
Let 'em wonder how we got this far
Cause I don't really need to wonder at all
Yeah after all this time
I'm still into you"

- Still Into You, Paramore



I love you with my whole heart Josh, and I'm never gonna stop. ♥

Love,

Ashley

Roth Christmas Letter 2022

 ♦  Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays  ♦

This year was another hard one for our family, but there has been lots of good still. In the spring we had a family reunion with Ashley's family and got to see everyone together there for the first time in a while. In the fall we went to Disney World and Universal Studios in Orlando with Josh's family, which was so fun for the twins and fulfilled our wish of going back to Harry Potter World since our honeymoon there almost 10 years ago. It was an amazing trip and we are so grateful! Over the year we were also able to visit nearby family and be visited by traveling family, all of which we have loved.

Josh is still working for an Amazon delivery company, though his work situation was complicated when he injured his knee on the job in March. Since then we have been dealing with worker's comp and trying to take care of hi knee, which is all still a work in progress. In the meantime he's been doing what work he still can, though his knee causes him a lot of pain. We are finally planning for him to have surgery to hopefully fix it in January, and are optimistic that that will improve Josh's quality of life. Aside from all of that, Josh loves to spend time playing games online with his siblings and friends, snuggling with the twins, and watching shows with Ash.

Ashley took on some extra work this year and works full-time across a handful of jobs. Most of them are various computer-related work-from-home jobs, but she also started working at a gymnastics facility across the street - just a few minutes walking distance! She works at the front desk which is kind of her ideal type of job, and loves her boss and her workplace. She also gets to take the twins to gymnastics classes sometimes while she is working, which they have been loving. Aside from work, Ashley loves to spend time rewatching her favorite TV shows, playing games online with her siblings, listening to the twins' antics, and accidentally falling asleep watching shows with Josh.

The twins started a French immersion program at their elementary school this year. We wondered how they would do being thrown into half of their school day being in a different language, but they are loving it and thriving. We're so impressed with how much they have learned already!

Jacob loves video games and Legos, and especially loves to play with others. His favorite color is rainbow, he loves hearts, and is still the *biggest* lover of cute things of anyone we know. Most of all, he loves penguins - and we even got to feed penguins at the aquarium for their birthday! He is super curious about the world, and has also gained a lot of physical confidence doing gymnastics. Jacob has also grown arguably even more attached to Mama this year.

Lauren loves all kinds of play, and enjoys playing with others or independently. Her favorite color is pink and she loves unicorns, cats, and most of all "uni-kitties". Lauren also loves doing art and writing notes for people, even just around the house. She is the silliest kid we know and loves giving and receiving "loves" (hugs, etc). She loves school and has also loved doing gymnastics along with Jacob. Lauren especially loves snuggling with Daddy and is still a total Daddy's Girl.

As always we're grateful for the love we feel from friends and family. We're especially grateful for the love and comfort we find in Christ. We love you all dearly, and wish you the best year available to you. ♥

Roth Family Christmas Letter 2021

♦ Happy New Year ♦

I meant to get this done as a Christmas letter but I didn't have the mental energy until now, so let's just call it a New Year letter! 2021 was one heck of a year. It was another particularly rough year for our family, but there was definitely good in there too. Here is the big stuff.

As most of you know, we were going through fertility treatments including IUI and IVF that ultimately led to a dead end, and we eventually decided this year to close that part of our journey. It was a heartbreaking decision, but one we feel comfortable with. We remain grateful beyond words for having the twins before facing infertility as well as for the incredible love and support that we experienced.

We have also had a number of big medical events this year. The biggest was Josh having a seizure. It was of course a big ordeal and I'm so grateful that we were around family at the time. He is back on seizure meds now and things seem to be going fine, so hopefully that remains the case! He also had a particularly bad kidney stone that resulted in multiple emergency room visits as well as surgery.

In our more daily lives our trials range from mental health struggles to financial strain to parenting and general life stuff. Now let's move on to the good stuff!

Josh got a new job this year doing Amazon delivery. It's very physical and sometimes that really manifests (knees for sure), but it's been a good job so far. it's straightforward and he gets to do his thing as long as the work gets done. He also built a new computer from scratch for the first time. Ashley got a new at-home job as a web rater. It's more intensive than her other at-home work, but it's been a great addition. She also stepped down from being a moderator for the Utah Chapter of Mormon Women for Ethical Government for now.

Lauren and Jacob started Kindergarten this year, and they are crushing it. They are thriving academically and socially, they have made lots of friends, and their favorite part of school is the bus ride. I put them in the same class for now, because I can't imagine them being apart, but maybe that will change over the years.

Lauren loves unicorns, pink, purple, turquoise, and anything sparkly. She is a friend to everyone and is a natural leader in that she is not afraid to direct people when playing games and things - sometimes that translates to bossy when she's coming on especially strong, but I hope she never loses that spark.

Jacob loves red, orange, and yellow because those are "lava colors", and also rainbow. He is also obsessed with penguins as well as anything cute - I don't think I've met someone who loves cute things more than he does. He is so sweet and always tries to cheer people up, and is as curious about the world as ever.

We've felt so much love and support in our lives this year. We are especially grateful for the love and comfort we find in Christ. We love you all dearly, and wish you the best year available to you. ♥

Infertility Awareness Week - What Our Experience Has Been Like

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. Having secondary infertility has affected my life very deeply, and to spread awareness and understanding I decided to put together this post about what secondary infertility has really been like. It's one of the hardest things I've been faced with. It’s important to note that everybody’s experience with infertility is unique and personal, so while I am sure there are commonalities with my experience, I also don’t speak for everyone who has been here.

What is it like to have secondary infertility and be unable to have more children?

It’s buying so many ovulation tests that never seem to help enough to get pregnant on our own.
It’s buying so many pregnancy tests that always turn up negative.
It’s getting your hopes up every time your period is even a little bit late, only to be crushed when it shows up month after month.
It’s trying to get pregnant for years while watching friends and family continue adding kids to their families.
It’s remembering how much you loved feeling the movements inside the womb, and never getting to feel that again.
It’s anticipating the excitement of pregnancy when you are getting ready to add to your family, only to be more and more heartbroken that that never comes.
It’s waiting to see how your family dynamics will change when you add more children, only for things to never change.
It’s talking about the fun ways you and your spouse might want to announce a pregnancy, and never getting to use any of them.
It’s imagining the bond that your current children will create as they meet and get to know their baby brother(s) or sister(s), and never being able to experience it.
It’s hearing your kids talk about how they want to have more siblings that they can play with, and wishing you could have given that to them years ago.
It’s keeping all of your baby clothes for years for your future children only to have to get rid of them without ever using them again.
It’s giving yourself so many shots and feeling a bigger emotional toll from it than you expected.
It’s having all the fun taken out of sex as it becomes more of a chore for both of you because of the pressure and timing.
It's all the testing and procedures and never determining a cause for your infertility.
It’s the mood swings of hormones from medications.
It’s bruising and puncture marks all over your belly from injections.
It’s getting your hopes up with every IUI cycle, only for it to fail time after time.
It’s getting your hopes even higher when you try IVF, only to be crushed when even that doesn’t work.
It’s crying at the doctor or on the phone because once again you received bad news.
It’s paying thousands of dollars for fertility treatments and coming up with nothing.
It’s imagining for years the complete family you want to have someday, only to ultimately learn that you can’t have any more kids.

(Pictured: all the syringes from my self-injections)

It’s loving your little family with all of your heart, and also feeling like it will never feel complete.
It’s feeling jealous and bitter about friends and family having babies while you can’t, and feeling guilty that you feel that way because you also love them, are genuinely happy for them, and would never blame them for having more kids and would never want them to not be able to.
It’s looking forward to trying again to breastfeed because having twins as your first was too overwhelming to keep it up, only to never get to try again.
It’s hoping that maybe next you will have one baby because you never got to feel the magic of devoting yourself to one tiny infant without worrying about another infant, and never getting to experience that.
It’s people telling you that maybe when you take a break it will happen, and that never being the case.
It’s having random meltdowns because something (big or small) triggered your grief.
It’s picturing your kids in your old baby swings and bouncers as you assemble them to sell and aching to see babies in them again.
It’s not bothering to go through any of your baby clothes as you sell them because when you tried to you ended up cradling them like a baby and crying.
It’s not pursuing more extensive options to grow your family because it’s too much financially and emotionally, but having to navigate the deep emotional impact of being done.
It’s having a list of baby names you and your spouse want to use and never getting to use them.

It's planning on things like walking with a baby to the bus stop to greet their older siblings home from school, only for those plans to never be realized.  
It’s dealing with the normal emotions of having had your last children, without getting to cherish any “lasts” because you never thought you wouldn’t be able to have more.
It’s feeling overwhelming loneliness even though you have a great support system, because infertility has a way of just always feeling lonely and isolating.
It’s not fully relating to those who have primary infertility because at least you had some kids before being infertile, while also not relating to those who haven’t had any infertility problems.
It’s feeling so grateful for the family that you have, while simultaneously being so heartbroken over not being able to have any more.
It’s holding on to the hope that eventually it will work out, and it never does.
It’s never being able to see your kids be helpers for a new baby.
It’s having to unfollow people you love because seeing all the pregnancy and baby announcements and pictures hurts too much.
It’s crying in the shower, crying when you go shopping, crying any time that the grief hits.
It’s trying for years and years to have more children and never having them.
It’s being absolutely certain that there are more children waiting to join your family, and then being just as certain that it’s okay to be done, and not knowing how to reconcile that.

It’s feeling not okay and not knowing how to be okay.

Infertility sucks.  



Love,
Ashley

Our Infertility Journey: A Different Path

Our infertility journey has turned out to be a really complicated one. Many of you know some of our recent updates either from GoFundMe or from me posting on Facebook, but to bring it all together this is what we had shared at that time:

"Our first round of IVF didn’t go like we hoped. I went through the daily injections for almost the whole round of meds, leading up to the egg retrieval, only for my body to decide to ovulate on its own (despite the medication that was supposed to prevent that). Without being able to fully prep for and time ovulation for egg retrieval, we were not able to do the retrieval at all and instead tried to salvage it with another IUI. You never know, right? Unfortunately that still didn’t work, so we ended up back at square one, just with a bunch less money spent on the medications I had been taking.

Saying that it was devastating is an understatement.

We’ve had some appointments between then and now, and are starting another attempt at IVF. This has not been an easy road but we continue to have faith. We ask for continued prayers and well-wishes as we move forward with this again. We appreciate everyone so much for their love and support, and are beyond grateful for the incredible generosity we have felt!!"

That brings us to our follow-up attempt at IVF. One of the things we discovered through the various testing we had done between cycles was that I have extremely low AMH. Like, absurdly low. Especially for someone my age. What this indicates is basically that I have very low ovarian reserves, a.k.a. not a lot of eggs left to work with. Based on this and my body's response to the last round of meds, my doctor put me on an almost entirely different round of medications for my new IVF cycle (what is referred to as a "min stim" cycle), that tends to have better results than the typical meds I was on for the previous IVF cycle. All of this information was very scary to me and what it might mean moving forward, but we were also hopeful that now that we knew about an issue we could work with it better.

So I started with my new IVF cycle, and as I took my daily meds (which included way less shots than previously, so that was a bright spot) and as I had my regular appointments of ultrasounds and blood tests to track my progress, we still ran into problems. Ultimately we discovered that my ovaries weren't very responsive to the medications, similar to the previous cycle. With the various meds and dosages that we had tried up to this point and based on what we continued to see at my appointments, my body just wasn't responsive to the meds and IVF was no longer a viable option for us.

This was heartbreaking news. We felt so hopeful about this path, and knowing it was another dead end was so hard to learn. At this point we were told that if we wanted to continue, our best options now were using an egg donor or doing embryo adoption. They both have their own high expenses and complicated paths, but they could be viable options for us.

However, after lots of discussion, pondering, prayer, etc., we agreed that we were both ready to be done. The toll that the highs and lows from fertility treatments has been heavy, financially and especially emotionally, and we can only keep it up for so long. We both feel at peace with this decision, though there is still *a lot* of heartbreak that comes with it.

This decision and our new journey brings a new mountain of grief that we will learn to navigate together. There is a lot to grieve when we hoped for so many years to bring more children into our family, and we will probably carry that grief with us for a long time.

But there is also gratitude wrapped up in this journey. We are so thankful to everyone in our lives who has been so loving and supportive to us in every way. None of it has gone unnoticed or unappreciated. And I thank God every day that he sent us the twins, because I couldn't imagine coming to this point and them not having each other. We will grieve, yes, but we are also so grateful for the little family that we have now. ♥



Love,
Ashley

Roth Family Christmas Card & Letter 2020

We sent out our Christmas cards only digitally this year to save on money, but wanted to share here too. If you're reading this, we love you and wish all the best. Here is our Christmas card and letter for 2020:

What a year this has been, right?? All around us there has been political strife, social unrest, economic hardship, and of course the global pandemic. That’s enough to make anyone’s year a challenging one.

For us personally, even with all of that aside this was one of our hardest years to date. Among other challenges, some of the harder things that we’ve been open about include a suicide attempt followed by hospitalization and another year of no successful pregnancy, including miscarriage and failed IUI cycles.

But there is good too! Josh got a new mental health diagnosis (Borderline Personality Disorder) along with new doctors, therapies, medications, and even a few workplace accommodations. As always it’s a long road, but we’ve seen a lot of good there too. And with my secondary infertility, we have decided to move on to IVF - a very big deal! Granted, it felt like a big deal to start any fertility treatments, but going from IUI to IVF there is a lot more to it. It’s not cheap and it sucks to anticipate that when we’ve been working to save for a bigger car and a house, but it’s also much more likely to result in a pregnancy so we’re hopeful. We are also so grateful to continue to have steady incomes this past year, even if there were some hits to our income. We’ve been able to provide for our needs, and we are so grateful for that.

Josh has gotten more crafty this year - he’s been making trinkets for his Dungeons and Dragons group in his spare time that involves woodworking, woodburning, using epoxy resin, and other exciting stuff. He also still streams on Twitch pretty regularly and loves unwinding by playing games with his friends and family. He is still working at Visa, and has had a mix of working from home and working at the office.

This year Ashley became a moderator for a chapter of the organization ‘Mormon Women for Ethical Government’ - a non-partisan group for Latter-day Saint women that focuses on advocacy, peacemaking, media literacy, and ethical government. Ashley has been very active in a lot of political scenes as well as loving her church calling in coordinating service and meals for others who are in need. She also still works from home as a virtual assistant, doing a bunch of computer and social media stuff.

The twins haven’t stopped growing up, despite our pleas. They have a lot of shared interests, including stickers, video games, riding their balance bikes or scooters outside, and playing pretend together.

Lauren has been conditioned since birth to like the color pink, and she has embraced that in full force. She loves everything pink, as well as all things unicorn. She loves imaginative play, is more or less content to do her own thing, loves to sing to herself, is obsessed with taking pictures, and wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s a total Daddy’s girl and reminds me of that regularly. ;)

Jacob loves anything rainbow. He has laser-sharp focus on whatever interests him, often not noticing anything else when he’s doing something he loves. He has big emotions that we are still learning how to manage, is growing more determined at trying things he’s afraid of, and prefers to play with others over doing anything alone. He is super attached to Mama, and I’m soaking it up.

We’ve felt so much love and support in our lives this year. We are especially grateful for the love and comfort we find in Christ. We love you all dearly, and wish you the best holiday available to you. ♥

Infertility Journey Update: Hope and Loss

So we were able to start fertility treatments up again this summer, and got started with the IUI process. I will spare you all the details of how each cycle works, but I just have to say that giving myself shots is 100% terrifying. I've been able to do it, but only out of sheer force of love for our future kid(s).

So we've been doing IUI cycles, and each time we do I think, maybe this is finally it. With this help, maybe this month won't be yet another in the long line of disappointing months of the years. And we've had negative results, which are always heartbreaking in their own right. Because *infertility sucks*.

Last week, however, we found out that our most recent IUI cycle ended with a positive pregnancy test - we were shocked, and thrilled! And the timing couldn't have been better - my mom and dad were visiting the day after I got the news, plus the day I found out was her birthday (September 1st), and all of it lined up in a very fun and exciting way. The catch was that the hCG level, while definitely in the positive range, was lower than the clinic would like it to be, so they were going to test again in two days. If it doubled after two days, that was indicative of a growing pregnancy; if it stayed the same or lowered, it could be a sign of a miscarriage.

With that knowledge, I knew that we weren't technically in the clear yet, but I also didn't think that there would end up being a problem. With my last two pregnancies, I wasn't able to detect them with home pregnancy tests until later than most people are able to, which is especially surprising with twins. So as far as I can tell, I have a history of starting my pregnancies with lower hCG without it meaning anything is wrong. So, I reasoned, that's what was likely to be the case here.

I made "big brother" and "big sister" T-shirts for the twins to wear to surprise my parents, I downloaded a pregnancy app, I calculated about when I'd be due - in May, the same month Matthew was due. I realized I'd be able to wear the "due in May" shirt I bought when I was pregnant with him, and that brought comfort to me after keeping it for all those years since losing him.

We didn't tell many other people in the meantime, just in case, and would wait until after my next appointment when we would test my hCG again. But it was fun talking with my parents about how we might set up a new baby logistically in our apartment and fun ways we might announce the pregnancy.

You can guess where this is going.

I had my follow-up blood test, and the result was that my hCG hadn't changed. It wasn't a growing pregnancy. It was a biochemical pregnancy - basically, a very early miscarriage. The egg was fertilized, but either didn't quite implant or didn't grow properly, and didn't stick around.

To say we were heartbroken is an understatement. The tears came quicker and and fell harder than they have in a while. Josh held me while I cried (sobbed) into him, but I know it cut him just as deeply as it cut me.

I wished I had never gotten a positive in the first place, even though that would've been a hard result in its own right. But now I had let myself get excited, I had begun to imagine and talk about a future for our family with this new baby. And just as quickly, it was gone. The hole in my heart felt bigger and emptier than it has in a long time.

If I felt broken from my secondary infertility in the first place - and I did - I now felt like all those cracks just fell apart.

(Illustration by Conrad Roset for Marie Claire magazine)

We will find healing as we grieve. We know that from experience. And we will move forward with our fertility treatments. We will have hope, and we will not give up.

But man...


Infertility is a b****.

Miscarriage is a b****.


Love,
Ashley

One Year - Matthew's Story

One year ago today marks what I can safely say was the worst day of my life up to this point. The day we found out our first baby had no heartbeat.

The day our lives changed forever.

I have been meaning to write this post for some time, but have been reluctant because it’s so painful to relive it. But it just seems fitting to share such a post today, one year later. I have written a little about it since it happened and I know Josh has shared a lot of his experience, but I wanted to share my whole story. I am going to be as open and honest about the experience as possible, so bear with me. I just think Matthew’s story is important to share. If not for anyone else, it is important for me.

Let me start with the weeks before.

The week before Thanksgiving week, I finally announced outside of family that I was pregnant. We took pictures with my friend Jessica, and I was so excited to put them on Facebook and finally share that we were so excited to be expecting.

The next week we went to Idaho to visit my grandparents for Thanksgiving and got to spend time with lots of family there. My belly wasn’t really showing yet, but it was getting there. I was also looking forward to feeling my baby’s movements any day. While at my grandparents’ house, I was given a surprise baby shower. It was so fun to celebrate my baby with everyone! And the gifts that I received made me even more excited for the baby’s arrival! I even received a car seat and stroller; I could just picture taking my new baby for walks in the springtime. I got really emotional over all of it because of how happy and excited I was. Everything was right in that moment.

The following week, on December 1^st, I had a routine doctor’s appointment. I had been looking forward to this appointment as I did every appointment so that I could hear the baby’s heartbeat and know that it was healthy and growing.

As usual, the doctor went to check the heartbeat with his fetal Doppler. It was taking a while, but this wasn’t that unusual. The baby wasn’t always the most cooperative and sometimes took a minute to find. It always made me a little nervous, but was never a cause for great concern because it was always fine.

When he had tried for a while, he scheduled us for an “emergency ultrasound” to see the baby since he was having trouble finding the heartbeat with his Doppler. I was a little nervous but didn’t think much of it because the doctor seemed so calm about it and didn’t give any indication that there was a problem. So we went back out into the waiting room to wait our turn for an ultrasound. As we sat there, I excitedly talked to Josh about “what if we can find out the gender today??” We weren’t expecting to have that ultrasound for a couple weeks, so the thought of finding out a little early made me really excited. Everything still seemed right for a moment.

As I wrote in my journal of the ultrasound experience:

“Our turn came and I got situated for the ultrasound. Just moments later, the ultrasound tech softly said, ‘Oh, no…’ My heart dropped but I held on to a desperate hope that everything would turn out to be fine. As she continued her checking, I watched her type on the screen that there was no heartbeat. And I tried with my last effort to stay composed, but my resolve quickly broke. And I cried. And cried. Josh came over to me to quietly comfort me as I felt myself crumbling in disbelief. I had sometimes imagined if something should go wrong, but never expected it to happen. Everything had been going so well. How could this be real?”

The ultrasound tech softly told us “I’m so sorry” over and over as she finished her scan. The doctor came in to get the news, and as we finished up we went back to a room to discuss our options with the doctor. He informed us that I could either be induced and deliver, or I could have a D&C where I am put out and they pull and scrape everything out themselves. The second option was riskier for me, but I was in such foggy disbelief I didn’t really know what to think. So he said we could go home and talk about it and call him back to schedule whatever we chose to do.

Going home, the rest of the day was a blur. I called in to work and they took care of things so I wouldn’t have to worry about finding people to cover my shifts. Then I called my mom. When she picked up I could barely choke out the words through my tears, “Mom, I went to the doctor this morning… and I lost the baby.” We let our Bishop and Relief Society President know what was going on. The rest of the day passed in a haze. We sat on the couch and watched TV for most of the day because for me it was a distraction of the nightmare I was now living in. Just taking a moment to get up and go to the bathroom was unbearable because the reality of what was happening would set in again, and I would break down and sob.

People started reaching out to me right away. I received flowers, food, and words of love and comfort from friends and family. People started sharing with me their experiences with loss, and I found myself leaning on those who could relate to what I was going through. Yet most of my time was spent either crying or trying to numb the pain.

We went back to the doctor the next day to let him know we wanted me to be induced, and to talk about details and schedule the induction. I would go in on Wednesday night, December 3^rd. I wanted to know what to refer to this loss as, so I asked him if it was considered a second trimester miscarriage. He said no, and that the death of the baby was called “fetal demise”. And that the birth would be a stillbirth. (This was confirmed by the nurses at the hospital. I found out later that in Utah, it is considered a stillbirth when a baby is born dead any time after 16 weeks, rather than what most everywhere else considers a stillbirth – 20 or more weeks.) It became important for me to know what this loss was called for reasons I can’t explain, not to compare my loss with anyone else’s.

I called my mom to let her know when it was so she could fly out to Utah to be with me for it. I also received a Priesthood blessing, in which I was told that this baby I was carrying was a little boy. We didn’t know the gender before then and I was thinking all along that it was a girl, so this was surprising to hear. We decided we wanted to name our baby before going to the hospital, so we looked up some baby names. We had one or two boy’s names in mind, but I didn’t feel like using them here. I wanted to find something with special meaning. So Josh found the name Matthew, meaning “Gift of God.” And with that we used Lawrence for the middle name, which is Josh’s middle name and his dad’s middle name. So Matthew Lawrence it was. We also made a trip to Target to find a blanket, a stuffed animal, a box for his keepsakes, and a special ornament because it was Christmas time. In that trip, elephants became Matthew’s animal – we first found a blue elephant ornament that I fell in love with, then Josh found a blanket with a blue elephant on it, to match the ornament.

On Wednesday night, we went to the hospital. I got checked in and they took me to a room apart from the regular labor and delivery area so that I wouldn’t have to hear baby cries. Then we got started with the induction. The pain started out very mild, and through the night gradually built up more and more. It wasn’t like typical labor though; instead of having painful contractions that would come and go, it was a constant, gradual buildup of pain, without contractions. I received some pain medicine, but in the morning when it was getting really bad, my water broke just before I was going to get an epidural. The doctor came, and I thought I was going to have to push. But Matthew was so tiny that the doctor just reached in and pulled him out very easily and delicately.

And there I saw him. Our boy. Born on December 4^th, 2014 at 8:30 am. He weighed a tiny 1.6 ounces and measured just 5.5 inches long.

I later wrote in my journal:

“I started crying instantly. It’s hard to describe the emotions I felt. Sorrow at losing my baby. At seeing his tiny, lifeless body that would never grow into an energetic little boy. At never getting to be his mother. At holding him, and yet it wasn’t him. I would be left empty. And yet, I felt joy at knowing he would be mine forever. Wonder at seeing how every little part of his tiny body was already so formed. At seeing how perfect he already was, and knowing that’s all he needed. All I could do was cry for both grief and joy, and marvel over my little boy…

As the day went on I found myself feeling very surprisingly peaceful. I expected to be completely beside myself. I don’t know if it was the prayers of others, or Matthew being there for me, or what, but I’m certain there was divine help. For the moment, even in the midst of this tragedy, everything seemed okay. I was amazed by that.”

A bereavement specialist in the hospital came and took pictures, did hand prints and footprints, and made tiny molds of Matthew’s hands and feet. She also wrapped Matthew in a tiny blanket and gave us a couple of other keepsakes. I will forever and ever be grateful to her. She gave us treasures that are worth more to me than any other possession.

I also received other gifts and trinkets in honor of Matthew. Stuffed elephants. Jewelry. Pictures. I was so touched every time someone gave me something in honor of him. It was a recognition that he existed, and that he mattered. That he is my little boy.

We decided not to have a funeral, but to let the hospital take care of his body. I don’t know exactly what they did with it, and I don’t want to. I only want to be left with the memories of him that I have. We do want to get a memorial stone at a cemetery some time, but we don’t know when that will happen because of the cost. For now, we just have his pictures and mementos to hold on to.

The days and weeks that followed are marked by a progression of confusing emotions as I lived with my new reality. In the early days, I felt numb. Numb to my emotions and to my experience. Then came the stronger emotions. Anger. Feeling so frustrated with people who said that they understood exactly how I felt because of this or that experience that they had, when it was so different than what I was going through. Despair. I remember getting on Facebook and seeing all my friends who were pregnant and having babies, posting about feeling their baby’s movement or sharing some new picture or milestone. And I was filled was grief and bitterness. I was looking forward to feeling my baby moving any day. That should be me. I should be looking forward to finding out the gender. I should be experiencing these wonderful, joy-filled moments. But my baby… my baby was dead. It was all taken away. It just wasn’t fair. And it was tearing my heart apart. Loneliness. Feeling like so many people were avoiding talking to me because they didn’t know what to say. Or that they didn’t care. I know people cared, but I honestly felt so abandoned at times. I felt such a range of emotions that navigating my grief was a very confusing experience, even for me.

We have come a long way in the year since Matthew has passed. I have gone to counseling and attended a support group, especially in the early months. It has gotten better, but the grief never really goes away. Most days I am doing okay. Even great. Some days are intensely difficult and painful. These days come both expected – like anniversaries and milestones – and unexpected – cropping up from nowhere, but the grief just hits you.

We miss Matthew terribly. It’s so hard wondering what he would be like. Thinking of how things “should have been”. Picturing raising that little boy. All the “what ifs”. It’s a unique type of grief, grieving the loss of something that would never be.

But I do want to end on a positive note. I am so grateful to know that Matthew is mine forever. That I will see him again. And I am so grateful for my new twin babies. As overwhelming and exhausting as they can be, I love them so much. I have always wanted to be a mom, and Matthew was the first to give me that. And I am especially grateful for my husband Josh. I could never navigate life’s trials without him. He is my comfort when I am falling apart, my encouragement when I need a little boost, and my best friend.

My family is my everything, and I am so grateful they are mine.

The Closing of 2014 - Not What I Expected

I have been contemplating lately what I should say in a public setting about my thoughts and feelings lately. What is appropriate to post on Facebook, what is appropriate to say here. What should I hold back, what should I share. Some things I want to say but worry that others will be put off by negativity. But I've decided that in the end, this is my blog, and though it is available publicly, I am still free to share what I want without needing to fear the reactions of others.

As most of you know, I lost my child earlier this month. I gave birth to Matthew, my little gift from God, on the morning of December 4th. He was stillborn. It's difficult to describe the range of emotions I felt at the hospital and during the days that have followed since.

As the year is coming to a close, I am seeing a lot of people posting about how 2014 has been. Lots of those little Facebook slideshows that have the year in review. And they almost always say, "It's been a great year!" As I have reflected on my year, I'm left feeling emptiness and sadness. I was expecting to be able to call 2014 a great year. But losing my baby tore away all those dreams that I had. Now I look back at how excited I was to be pregnant and looking forward to having that child, and all I can think is how it should have been. My baby bump should be showing, and I would be proud of it. I should be feeling his precious movements. I should be buying cute newborn clothes and setting up his things.

And there are so many things I will forever be left wondering about: what would he have looked like? Would his hair be dark like Josh's? Would it be curly or straight? Would he have our brown eyes or get our recessive blue? Would he be a mild-mannered baby? Would he become a rambunctious toddler? It doesn't seem fair. I would never get to rock him to sleep, cradled in my arms. I would never get to sing him a lullaby. I am his mother, yet I would never get to mother him.

So when I look at the year 2014, it is with a heavy heart, full of great sadness and a longing that will never be filled. The turning of the year is a reminder of all the year should have brought, and all the dreams that came with it. That I went home from the hospital that day with broken dreams and empty arms. And though time is the great healer, that pain will always remain.


Fortunately, in the midst of grief and tragedy, hope can still be found.

I know that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we will be reunited with our precious boy again. Because of Him, we are and will always be a family, even if I can't be with Matthew at this time. Because of Him, the pain of being without my boy in this life will be but a brief moment compared to the joy of eternity.

~ Ashley

Trials

We all know that life is great at throwing trials your way. Sometimes it feels like it's too much and you don't see a way out. It's those experiences that when you look back you can see the hand of the Lord and you are more able to appreciate what you've gone through to get where you are.

But here is the question that I pose to anyone who may be reading this: when you're in the midst of those trials and things feel pretty bleak, what do you do to hold on to hope and maintain an optimistic outlook? What gets you through the storm?

~ Ashley

Hiking the Y: An Honest Account

Josh's little brother Nicholas is visiting from Indiana and has been staying with us for the past few days. One of the things he wanted to do with us was to hike up to the Y on the mountain near BYU. I had never done it before and it's one of those things that if you're at BYU, you're almost expected to do it at some point, so I was all for it. I obviously didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I've gone hiking before, but nothing very extreme, all fairly mild hikes. And that's always been more than enough for me. But as I got up early this morning to get ready to hike the Y (although in a tired stupor I questioned whether it was worth it to get up this early on a Saturday), I was looking forward to a new experience and a new challenge. And a challenge I got.

Y Mountain (this picture was not taken by me, I found it online)

Now just a quick bit of background, I've never been super outdoorsy or athletic. I enjoy nature, but I mostly stay in the comfort of my own home. And while I've periodically been involved in activities like dance or marching band that definitely required physical exertion, I've never really been what you would call 'fit' or 'in shape'. Yeah, I've always been relatively thin, but being thin and being in shape are two completely different things. Lately though, I've been making more of an effort - emphasis on the effort part - to get myself in shape and in good health. I've realized how important it is to me to take care of my body. So, against my own rational judgement, I've been getting up extra early most days of the week before going to school so that I can go running, either with Josh, with my best friend Jessica (who is really the one who got me started), or just on my own. And let me tell you - it's been HARD. I'm fairly certain that I have something referred to as exercise- or sports-induced asthma. And I'm not just saying that sarcastically to try to make a point about how out of shape I am. I really struggle with it. It makes exercising especially difficult and strenuous for me. Anyway, I've also been walking to and from school every day for the past month, and part of that walk involves climbing 140+ stairs. Every. Day. Sometimes multiple times a day. And it hasn't gotten any easier.

So that brings me back to this morning. The three of us, plus Josh's friend Sam (who also gave us a ride there), set off on the trail. I knew it would be no walk in the park, but I was not prepared for the toll it would take on me. I felt so bad making them stop and wait for me every five minutes or so of hiking so that I could catch my breath. Sometimes I'm sure it was less than that. It was me versus the mountain, and for most of the hike, the mountain was winning.

Maybe I overreacted, but I started alternating between bitter and frustrated to feeling sorry for myself. I had been trying so hard lately to take care of myself, but you would never know it. I was the only one in the group, heck, the only one on the trail, that was struggling this much. It's normal to get tired out while hiking the Y, but my exhaustion was beyond the normal threshold. After just a few feet of walking, it seemed, I was almost completely out of breath. And then I'd look around and see everyone else having a much easier time than I was. Little kids, even old people. It seemed so unfair. Why did I have to work so hard for something that other people could attain so much easier if they put forth even half the effort that I had to? I want it so bad. And so many other people just don't seem to care. In the words of Owen Wilson in Shanghai Noon, "the justice system is all screwed up". I even reached the point (which, honestly, it didn't take me long to get to this point), when I sincerely hoped that I would either throw up or pass out, because then I would feel like I was justified in how difficult this hike was for me. Is that sad or what?

But everyone - especially Josh - was really patient with me and my frequent breaks to catch my breath and give my weary legs a brief reprieve. As we got further and further my body protested more and more, and I was constantly sending manual override to my legs, who insisted on stopping and just shutting down for a good long while, so that I could keep trudging up the mountain.

And finally, what seemed like an eternity after we started the journey, we made it to the top. Glory and hallelujah! I was just so relieved that finally, finally, we made it. It was done. I did it. And of course the best part of it all was the view. It was beautiful.

The view from the Y

Sam, Nicholas, Josh, and me

Hiking up Y Mountain was a great experience and I'm glad that I've finally done it after all these years of being here at BYU, but it was NOT easy. I really had to fight for it. Will I do it again? Maybe. But I know that I will keep trying. Keep trying to take care of myself. My body is a precious gift from God, and I want to treat it as such. As hard as it is for me to exercise, I will keep working. It may not ever really get easy, given the way that I am. And maybe that really isn't fair. But I am blessed in so many other ways, I will play with the cards that I have been dealt.

Besides, how much is something really worth to you if you don't have to work for it?

~ Ashley