Our Story
3 Babies, 2 Miscarriages, and 1…
So obviously, you know about Marley. But you don’t know how she died and what’s happened ever since.
So to bring you up to speed, let’s go back to Spring 2019. (Remember that? A world before COVID?) We went in for our anatomy scan at 21 weeks and were shocked to learn that Marley was growth-restricted. She measured at the 1st percentile for her gestational age, and we were told that she would probably die in the next few weeks.
Honestly, we didn’t believe it. Babies don’t die at 21 weeks or in the 2nd trimester. If something is going to happen, they die in the first trimester, which is why you wait until week 13 or 14 to announce you’re pregnant, right?
In retrospect, we were probably somewhat in denial. We both assumed that with the proper medications, some lifestyle changes, whatever – she would grow and be fine. Maybe she would be born a little early and spend a few weeks in the NICU, but she would live.
At 27 weeks gestation, on May 31, 2019, we found out she had died.
A post-mortem analysis of Marley and our collective medical history showed Marley’s death was a fluke. There was no known cause for her growth restriction, and her death wouldn’t impact future pregnancies. Sure, in our next pregnancy, they would do some things differently, such as extra monitoring and additional medications as a just-in-case measurement but nothing drastic.
We were cleared to “try again,” and in April 2020 (Hello COVID!), we found out Monique was pregnant. As someone who generally does not cry a lot, Monique cried when she saw the two lines on the pregnancy test. This would finally be our chance at a baby! We went in for blood tests to confirm the pregnancy, and the blood test showed her HCG levels were dropping instead of doubling. Unfortunately, days later, we had a miscarriage.
1 in 4 women has a miscarriage, so we knew statistically that nothing was amiss. Just gotta try again. And that we did. In September 2020, we found out we were pregnant again with twins! We became known as “that couple” at the doctor’s office because we dropped a few expletives when the ultrasound tech said, “You know there are two, right?”
“Two what?”
“Two babies!”
With the twins, things would be different. It would be our last pregnancy – a 2 for 1 deal! Monique planned to lean in and enjoy the pregnancy as much as possible. All the vomit. All the fatigue. Every moment of it.
We went in for ultrasounds every week, and at around 13 weeks, we could see that one was a girl and one was a boy. Perfect. One of each! And then week 15, there was only one heartbeat. Maya, our little girl, had died.
We were rushed off for testing and monitoring of our son. But as far as anyone could tell, he was happy and healthy. Until he wasn’t. About week 18, he started to fall off the growth charts measuring in the 1st percentile just like Marley had. We couldn’t possibly have the same thing happen again, right? This time, it had to be a different outcome. When we went back for an additional growth scan at Week 21, Zion had died. To add insult to injury, Monique was at the appointment by herself because of COVID restrictions and had to call Nick at work and tell him his son had died. It was four days before Christmas.
Christmas 2020 was spent grieving and recovering from surgery. We spent a lot of time talking about, “What’s next?” Do we give up? Do we adopt? Something was clearly wrong with our ability to reproduce; we just didn’t know what.
We commissioned analysis at a lab at Yale and through the pathology lab of our hospital in Denver to understand the twins’ and Marley’s death. We will skip over A LOT of science here, but in short, we learned that there is nothing wrong with either of our abilities to reproduce. We could have a healthy and normal pregnancy. It just might only happen 50% of the time. The reason for this is super sciencey, and we will not get into it here. Marley’s death wasn’t a fluke. It was caused by something repeatable but beyond our control. We just had to play the odds like roulette. If you bet on black enough times, you will eventually win. So as long as we were prepared to keep losing babies, we could keep trying and eventually have one survive.
This sounds grim, but it was actually great news for us. Our chances of having a biological child went from what we thought was 0% to 50%! And do you know how much domestic infant adoption costs in the US? Try $35-$50,000.
We spent a few months digesting this information and what it meant. How do we proceed? What more can we learn about our situation? Is there a way to engineer our way around the 50% and improve the odds?
While we were busy figuring this out, Monique became pregnant again. And just like April 2020, we had a miscarriage very soon after the positive pregnancy test. This time we weren’t even sad. Just annoyed. Who is pulling the strings on this life of ours? What’s up with the false starts? Haven’t we had enough hurt already? We gave up.
And then, four weeks later, we had another positive pregnancy test. So this brings us to today…
Monique is 31 weeks pregnant with a little girl as we write this. We haven’t told many people because we are just terrified. When does our daughter’s 50% chance of survival go to 100%? When she’s 16 weeks, just past Maya’s death? 22 weeks when she passes Zion’s gestational age? 28 weeks when she passes Marley? When would we feel comfortable “announcing” our pregnancy? The truth is never. Not until she’s born.
So that was the decision we made. We will announce it at birth. And we know some people will be pissed and resent us for this. But most people don’t know what it’s like to have FIVE pregnancies in THREE years and still have empty arms. Most people don’t know the terror that clouds each doctor’s appointment (of which there are many) instead of the joy that most pregnant people get to experience. Most people don’t understand that sometimes to put your own mental health first, you have to put other people’s expectations last (We see you, Simone Biles! We see you, Meghan Markle!). Some folks will understand our decision. Some will be disappointed. Some people will get over it. Some people never will. We’re not sorry.
When Marley died, so many were so supportive, and for that, we are eternally grateful. People sent food, cards, emails, and gifts. But not all the “support” we received was helpful. We were openly judged for the decisions we made. Our requests for privacy and solitude were ignored. We were told that we should “move on” and extended platitudes that were hurtful and dismissive. Even with all that we have been through, we are no experts in grief. And we recognize that some of those actions were just poor judgment calls and missteps.
But as you know, pregnancy can be such a public event. Everyone and anyone feels like they have a right to comment or ask questions about a person’s pregnancy. And one thing we learned from Marley’s pregnancy and Marley’s death is that people will say strange and hurtful things. With the tenuous nature of this pregnancy (our second in a global pandemic to boot), that was one extra layer we didn’t want to deal with. So for the last seven months, our primary focus has been on the mental and physical well-being of Mama, Papa, and baby. Keeping the pregnancy private allowed us to take care of ourselves while minimizing our exposure to negative comments and stressors. We learned from Marley’s death that we will never be sorry about putting our health and safety before others’ expectations.
So there you have it. Our long and textured pregnancy history. It was not our first choice to tell you this way, but there would have been too many calls to make, too many times to repeat the story, and it’s all too emotional. So we will apologize that this isn’t a phone call, a Zoom call, or even an email. But we also recognize that putting this on our site allows you to read and digest the information when you’re ready and do it in stages if you want to. Because we get it. It’s a lot.
So if you’ve read all of this, thank you for reading this far. Thank you for being part of our tribe. And thank you for supporting us.
If you have time – now or later – we’ve provided some other information on this site: photos of Marley, Maya, and Zion, a blog on how the pregnancy has been going, and a photo gallery (which we will TRY to keep updated, but no promises!). We know many people may want to help out somehow, and although the pandemic is over for most people, it’s certainly not over for parents of a newborn, so we’ve provided some information on how to help from afar. And if you didn’t read any of this and just want the quick and dirty of our lives, skip to the FAQs, and we should be able to answer a lot of your questions there. Finally, if you still need something, you know how to reach us!