“My Tattoo Artist Was Shaking & Crying. I Looked at Him with Complete Shock & Utter Disbelief”: Grieving Mom Discovers Tattoo Artist Has Unique Connection to Her Lost Twins

In doing so, I found some amazing support groups for other women with this condition. I was able to ask questions and see SO many success stories that completely restored my hope in becoming a mom. Over the course of the next year, I tried to get pregnant 4 times through IUI but all my attempts failed. ‘You need to start trying IVF,’ my RE told me. I was approaching 39 and I couldn’t wait any longer. If I did, I could lose my chance of having my own children.

In May of 2018, I embarked on my IVF journey. All in all, it was not too terrible. The worst part of the entire process was the orientation class. I walked out of the class crying my eyes out, thinking there is no way I could do it. It was too overwhelming. Had I not had amazing insurance through my new job that paid for IVF, I may not have gone through with it.

The fact that my new job covered IVF and maternity leave was one of the first blessings and signs that I was on the right path. I began the meds in May, egg retrieval a few weeks later, and the transfer of 2 embryos on June 24th. They were able to retrieve 5 eggs, 4 fertilized, 2 transferred, and 1 made it to freezing. Due to my age, my RE was adamant that we transfer 2 embryos as I would have a better change of one to stick.

My chances of both sticking and having twins was less than 5%. Two weeks later, I got that beautiful POSITIVE. I was pregnant and I had the blood tests to confirm it! I kept praying that it was one baby so that I’d have the best chance of moving forward. I was scared out of my mind when I heard the word TWINS at my 6-week ultrasound.

The first two weeks, they found two sacs but only one heartbeat. The docs were sure the baby would not survive. ‘It may just be one,’ they told me. Just when I started to wrap my head around this, I went back in for more testing at 8 weeks. ‘There’s two little strong heartbeats,’ they told me. So, I came to terms with having twins again. This time I was going to do this!

When I was later transferred to a new team of doctors, they kept suggesting I ‘reduce a baby’ and that there was nothing else they could do to help me or prevent loss. ONE, I was never going to reduce a baby unless I absolutely had no other choice. TWO, there were so many women in my support groups with success stories. I decided to take matters into my own hands and find a doctor who had experience and confidence that I could carry these babies to a healthy delivery.

Thanks to those support groups, I met a woman who also lived in St. Louis that knew a good specialist for my case. I called him immediately and was SO lucky to be added as a patient. In the meantime, the other docs had me do genetic testing. I found out that both my children were genetically perfect and I was having a boy and a girl again!

Up until this point, my anxiety was through the roof. I thought every single pain, twinge, or cramp was something going wrong. I couldn’t get any relief, especially since I had heard so much negativity from the previous doctors. When I walked into Dr. Paul’s office, one of the first things he told me was that I absolutely could do this. ‘All of the reasons you disliked your previous doctors are the exact reasons I started my own practice.’ He believed in the unconventional and doing everything to get babies here safely, healthy, and at term.

My anxiety slowly eased after meeting with him. A little more after my cerclage surgery. A little more when I started having to take daily injections due to a blood clotting disorder he found. Just when my hope was at an all-time high, I walked into my 17-week ultrasound to find out that my son had no heartbeat.

My son was always the strong one from the get-go. They couldn’t find my daughter’s heartbeat for weeks. If I had ‘reduced’ the weaker baby, I would have had NO heartbeats at this point. I thank God every day that I listened to my gut. I knew she was a strong, little fighter.

I was devastated to hear that my son was no longer with us. I knew I was going to have to carry him until I delivered my daughter. My anxiety began to peak once more. I was so afraid this would somehow affect my daughter. I went into ultrasounds every week expecting the worst and hoping for the best. I made small milestones for myself and tried to take things hour by hour, day by day. I had to compartmentalize my grief to stay positive for my daughter each day.

I refused to buy anything, set up a nursery, get daycare scheduled, or allow people to throw me a shower. Anytime I planned for the future, I felt as if something bad was going to happen, as if I was jinxing it. But day by day, shower by shower, slowly setting up the nursery, I got more comfortable with things and the reality of her arrival.