A True Miracle - Beckett Mason Byer

As I sit down to share our son’s birth story, it’s overwhelming. Our sweet, healthy infant son is laying in his rock n’ play next to me. He’s sucking on his bubber (pacifier), sleeping peacefully. He is a healthy infant boy. I try not to allow myself to think about the what-ifs from the wee hours of the morning on November 12, 2016, but it’s so hard. As I share Beckett Mason Byer’s birth story, here is my message… God is good all the time. All the time, He is good. He is faithful. He is merciful. He is compassionate. He hears our cries. He hears our prayers. We can wrestle with Him. He can take it. He loves us.

In the wee hours of the morning on November 12, 2016 and in the following days and weeks, God allowed many to witness a true miracle through our son, Beckett Mason Byer.

Obviously, the events of the night were not fully experienced by myself. Through my understanding and from others who experienced that night by our side, here is how I understand the events of our son’s birth.

In the early morning of November 11th, I awoke around 2:30am to use the restroom. As I climbed back into bed, I felt three small gushes. I went back into the bathroom and then woke Patrick, telling him that I believed my water may have broken. I continued to “leak” small amounts of water. Patrick and I got up, closed out some work items on our computers, finished packing for the hospital, and took Zailey for a walk. Finally, at 8:30am, our doctor’s office was open for the day. We called, and they had us come in to be checked by my doctor at the clinic. They performed the amniotic fluid strip test on the fluid, and it showed that it was not amniotic fluid. Fortunately, my doctor sent us over to the hospital for an actual lab test on the fluid and for a quick biophysical profile ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid levels. The lab test was positive. We were SO excited! This was it! Since the day we gave birth to Kylie, I had dreamed of this day… we had made it through our pregnancy with Beckett, and it was time to meet him.

As I continue to share Beckett’s birth story, I want to share that I know without a shadow of a doubt, that every single moment of our labor and delivery was orchestrated by our Father in heaven. Had one single moment been different, our son would not be here with us today. It deeply scares me to actually write this, but it is so very true.

When we walked onto the labor and delivery unit that morning, Nurse N, our nurse from Kylie’s birth, greeted us with a hug. Wow, what a feeling it was to see her face. I was so excited that she was working that day and that she would be a part of what I thought would be the most amazing day of our lives. She had guided us through the worst moments of our life with such grace and compassion. What a treat it was to think she would guide us through the best moments of our life.

We were settled into our delivery room, and I received a dose of Cervadil, a cervix-thinning medication. Although my water had broken, I had not begun to progress into labor. The dose was given to me at noon and lasted 12 hours. We knew that further decisions would be made on how to progress labor at midnight that night. Patrick and I watched Netflix all afternoon and enjoyed lunch and dinner together in the hospital room. As Nurse N left for the evening, she brought another nurse in to meet us. She told us that she had hand-picked our night nurse for us, Nurse E. She was to be back the next morning and hoped that she’d be there for Beckett’s birth. Nurse E knew all about Kylie, and Nurse N’s decision to have her oversee us that night proved to be such a blessing. Both of our nurses are women of God. Praise the Lord for guiding every moment.

Around 7pm or so, my contractions really started to kick in. I labored through them as they became stronger and closer together. At midnight, Nurse E came in to check me. We celebrated making it to midnight and that I was 5cm dilated. As the contractions became more and more painful through the evening, I continued to tell myself to make it to midnight when my progress would be checked again. Once I knew if I had progressed, I had decided that I would ask for an epidural. I was tired. I had been up since 2:30am the morning before, and I was ready for a bit of sleep before meeting our sweet son. Nurse E encouraged me to take a shower around midnight before I received my epidural. For whatever reason, I declined. I told Nurse E that I was ready for the epidural whenever the anesthesiologist could come. Again, thank the Lord for this decision. I received the epidural, and Nurse E was sitting right next to me, adjusting my monitors and monitoring me very closely. The anesthesiologist checked back in. I remember the conversation Nurse E and I were having as she sat next to me, adjusting the monitors on my belly. This is the moment when everything changed. She began to move the monitor tracking Beckett’s heart rate around. I remember feeling a tad panicked, and I asked her, “Are you having trouble finding his heart beat?” She responded that she was having a bit of difficulty. She immediately called other nurses for help. My heart dropped out of my chest. I felt as if I was having deja vu back to the moments in which they could not find Kylie’s heartbeat. I began to become very upset. I began to pray. Many nurses piled into our room. Nurse E was able to get a monitor on Beckett’s head to better track his heart beat. They were able to find it, but it was very low (50s… it has consistently been in the 150s all day long). I began to ask for a c-section. All I wanted was for my son to be healthy and in my arms. All I wanted was for him to be here with us. I was given oxygen, and Beckett’s heartbeat came back up into the 100s. By this point, the doctor, Dr. S, has also joined us in the room. I remember that there was about 30 seconds of calm after Beckett’s heart rate came back up. I was flipped to lie on my other side. His heart beat plummeted again. In seconds, my bed was moving down the hall to the OR. I began to pray out loud. I prayed over and over again. “Lord, please protect our son.” I yelled this to the Lord, over and over as we moved down the hallway and into the OR. I closed my eyes. I remember hearing that we were moving to another floor to an OR. Then, I remember them redirecting us to an OR on the same floor. Again, God was orchestrating every moment. We needed every second. Dr. S immediately began prepping me for a c-section. I remember feeling him pinch me as I continued to pray out loud. He asked if I could feel him doing so. I told him that I could. I pleaded with them to put me under. I was so scared for my son’s life. I remember asking if they could detect his heartbeat. A nurse walked over to me and talked to me right in my ear. She told me they could but that it was very low. At one point in the night I remember someone telling me that it was 30… 30 heartbeats per minute. I begged to be put under. Just as they put the mask to my face, this beautiful nurse told me it was going to be okay. I believe God gave her those words to speak to me. I thanked her just before falling into the unconscious.

Beckett Mason was born at 1:33am without a heartbeat. The NICU nurse practitioner, D, was able to place a line into Beckett’s umbilical cord to give him blood. He was able to intubate our son. I don’t believe these were easy tasks. For 18 minutes, the NICU nurse practitioner and team gave our son more than his entire volume in blood, breathed for him, and beat his tiny heart for him, circulating the blood throughout his body. For 18 minutes they did not stop. At 18 minutes, the Holy Spirit breathed the breath of life into our son. The protocol for an infant born without a heartbeat is to attempt resuscitation for 15 minutes, but D and his team did not stop. I have been told that D said to the room, “It’s been fourteen minutes. Let’s try for just a few more minutes.” D was on the phone with Dr. O, one of our NICU doctors from the University of Minnesota. She had told him to turn the warmers off, give our son more blood, and to keep going. She and her team were on their way. Thank you, God. Thank you D. Thank you Dr. O. It is incredibly difficult to think about the fact that our son is here because of the decision to continue to resuscitate him.

When they opened me up to take our son out, the tech standing next to Dr. S was covered in blood from my uterus from waist down. It was all Beckett’s blood, for I did not lose much blood. The placenta had partially detached from my uterine wall (40% placental abruption). Placental abruption happens in about 1% of pregnancies. I had zero risk factors, making the chance of this happening to us much less than 1%.

I don’t believe that I’ll ever fully understand how God orchestrated the events of that night, but here’s what I do know. I chose to get an epidural. Because of this, my anesthesiologist was on the labor and delivery floor already. Because of this, I was being monitored very closely by Nurse E. She was sitting next to my bed when Beckett’s heart rate began to decelerate. Because she knew Kylie’s history, she didn’t follow the normal protocol of moving me around in bed to try and get his heartrate to come back up. Instead, she called for help right away. Dr. S was sitting at the desk and also saw the decelerations. He came into our room. He made the very quick decision to take me to the OR for a c-section. Dr. S is a wonderful doctor in the OB practice we go to. He was not supposed to be working that night. He was covering for another doctor from a different practice. I have been told multiple times how blessed we were that he was working that night. D, the NICU nurse practitioner was already on the floor, visiting another patient. The OR on the floor was open and ready to go. 13 minutes… that’s how long it took from the time that Beckett’s heart rate decelerated for the first time to birth. I knew it was minutes, but I did not realize it was that fast. At 1:20am, Beckett’s heart rate began to decelerate. He was born at 1:33am. The anesthesiologist was already in place and put me to sleep very quickly when we realized that the epidural had not yet taken. The anesthesiologist saw the blood in my amniotic fluid, and instead of waiting and following normal protocol, he immediately ordered blood for our son. God guided D and Dr. O, who was on the phone with D, to continue to resuscitate our son after the normal 15 minute protocol.

The NICU team from the University of Minnesota arrived before I was awake after surgery. I was woken in the OR after delivery, but I do not remember it. I was woken in the recovery room by my very scared husband and Dr. O from the University of Minnesota. They wanted to bring me to see my son before they transferred him to the University of Minnesota. It sunk in that he was alive. I remember that Dr. O told me that he was very sick. I was very groggy throughout all of this time. I also remember thinking they wanted me to meet Beckett before they left because he might not make it. I tried to push all of those thoughts away. They wheeled my bed down to meet our son. He was being worked on by the U of M NICU team. I was told that he had shown signs of seizure activity. Patrick stood next to me. I touched our son’s feet. He was very white/blue and was limp. He was alive. I took Patrick’s hand, and we cried for our son. We were so scared for our son’s life.

They transferred Beckett via ambulance to the U of M NICU soon after I met him. Patrick followed in our car and called our parents. His parents came to sit with him at the U of M. My dad came to sit with me in Burnsville until I could be transferred downtown (my mom was on call and had to wait until morning to call someone to take over for her). As I had undergone surgery, I had to wait a little while before being allowed to transfer downtown. Then, I was transferred via ambulance to the University of Minnesota. As I lay in my bed in the recovery room, I remember talking to Nurse E. I remember telling her over and over that I believed in miracles. I believed that our son could be okay. I remember asking her if she believed in miracles. She told me she did. We prayed for our son. She had prayed with my husband throughout our time in the OR. We are so thankful for her.

My poor husband had to wait… wait while Beckett and I were whisked into the OR, wait after hearing a code blue called, knowing that meant cardiac arrest, wait to meet Beckett once he was told he was breathing and had a heartbeat, wait to see me after surgery, wait to be told he would be going downtown with Beckett, wait as he drove downtown not knowing how his wife or son was doing, wait once arriving downtown and they were able to get our son stabilized and set up in the NICU.

At 4:30am, immediately upon arriving downtown, Beckett began brain hypothermia. He was placed on a cooling mat. His body’s core temperature was cooled to approximately 92 degrees Fahrenheit for 72 hours. The purpose of this treatment is to protect the baby’s brain cells as much as possible and reduce the chances of severe brain damage. Our sweet son was hooked up to so many machines. He was a very sick baby. Patrick sat with him until I was able to make it downtown.

As I laid in my bed waiting to be transferred to be with our son, I remember praying to God. I wrestled with Him. I didn’t understand why this was happening. I know that He is good. I stated over and over in my head that morning… “God is good all the time. All the time He is good.” I think the Holy Spirit was reminding me to trust in Him. But, I did wrestle with Him that morning. I reminded Him (as if He needed a reminder) that we had lost our daughter just a year and a half ago. Why? Why, was this happening? My dad arrived in Burnsville around 6:30am. I too told him that I believed in miracles. I told him what I was thinking, that God is good. I asked him if he believed in miracles. He told me that he did, but that we did not know anything right now. I continued to tell him that I believed in miracles. I called and texted Patrick many times in those hours. I continued to ask if our son was stable. He told me that he thought so… he was. I remember thinking… “Okay, God. He is stable. Please help me push all other thoughts out of my mind.” My obvious concern was for what type of life our son would have. I knew he had not had a heartbeat for 18 minutes. I knew he had been without oxygen for a very long time.

Around 10am, I was transferred via ambulance to the U of M. I tried so hard to be patient for I knew that once arriving, I had to be checked in as a patient. My vitals had to be taken. Then, I could finally go see our son. Patrick came and got me as soon as I was finished with my intake. He wheeled me down to meet our son. It was so hard to see him on that bed, hooked up to so many machines. He was intubated, he had an IV in his hand, and he had two lines in his umbilical cord. He was being given so much medication. He had tiny needles in his head and a sticker on his forehead, monitoring brain activity, he had a tube in his tummy to suck out gas that built up. He had a tube in his nose, running to his core to monitor his temperature. He had is leads on his chest, monitoring his vital signs, and he had a monitor on his foot, reading his oxygen levels. We could touch our son on the cooling mat, but we could not hold him.

The first 24 hours of our son’s life felt like an eternity. The doctor graciously spoke with us once I arrived downtown. She explained everything that was going on with him with so much patience. She answered all of our questions. Beckett was stable. What was unknown was how his major organs would respond to cooling, and of most concern at that point was his brain.

Those days we spent in the NICU were some of the hardest days of our life. We continually prayed together for God to heal our son. We prayed over our son so many times. We prayed together as a couple in a room over and over. Beckett showed some positive reactions while on the cooling mat. From the moment the U of M team began working on him, he did not like his breathing tube. He fought them with his little hands up by his face, pulling at his tubes. He breathed over his ventilator from the moment I arrived at the U of M. Our nurse gave him colostrum with on a cue tip. He gagged a bit on it, showing his gag reflex was working properly. On Monday, day three of cooling, Beckett opened his eyes for us when we arrived at his bed side early in the morning. He was extubated that day, and he took a pacifier. All were thrilled with this progress while still on the cooling mat. His labs were improving each day. All of these were promising signs, but the pressure was building on Patrick and I as his MRI approached. We knew the results were not the end all be all, but we knew that these results would tell us a lot.

On Tuesday morning, November 15^th, Beckett’s body temperature was warmed over 6 hours to a normal body temperature. After lunch time that day, I was able to hold him for the first time. There are not words to describe the feeling of holding our son in my arms. I had waited for this moment… much longer than the three days since he was born. In the days after Kylie’s birth, I dreamed and longed for the day I would hold our next child in my arms. It was not quite as I had imagined, but it was still the most amazing feeling of my life. Tears streamed down my cheeks and onto our son. Patrick held him after I did. Tears would not stop as I looked at my whole world in that chair next to our son’s NICU bed. Beckett was taken to his MRI at 4pm that afternoon. Emotions continued to build for Patrick and I. We sat in our room upstairs. I sobbed. I prayed. Patrick and I prayed together. I WRESTLED with God in those moments, pleading and pleading for a healthy son. Once Beckett returned from his MRI, we were both able to hold our son skin to skin on our chests. Many more tears were shed as I had dreamed of this feeling for so long. We held him for hours. Around 7pm, Dr. O, the amazing woman who came to get Beckett from Ridges, came to our bedside. We had just set Beckett back in his bed. She told us that she had good news. She told us that Beckett’s MRI had come back completely normal. Sobs, sobs came bursting out of me. Relief, thankfulness… Patrick held me. There are no words to describe this moment in our life. Dr. O told us multiple times while we were in the NICU that everything aligned on the night of Beckett’s birth to be where we are today, with a healthy infant. There is no earthly reason that Beckett’s MRI came back normal and that he is doing so well. We know, without a shadow of a doubt, that God performed a miracle, protecting our son’s life, giving him a healthy body.

The following morning, the neurologist and his team came by Beckett’s bed. We discussed Beckett’s MRI results, the neurologist examined Beckett. Essentially, he wrote him off, stating that he did not need any follow up given that Beckett’s MRI was normal and that his examination showed no red flags at all. We were in disbelief once again at God’s goodness. The occupational therapist also came by to examine Beckett. He responded to every single reflex check she did with him, including one in which most babies coming off cooling do not perform. Once again, what amazing news.

In the following days, less and less machines surrounded Beckett’s bed. He was moved to a “less serious” NICU nursery, he began sharing a nurse instead of needing one on one attention, we began nursing, his labs continued to improve quickly, he needed less and less medication until his labs were completely normal, and we eventually moved to a private NICU room where Patrick and I could stay with him 24/7. Finally, he no longer needed his oxygen and he was taking enough milk volume. On November 22, on our 11^th day in the NICU, we were able to go home. It was an amazing day.

There will never be the right words to express our gratitude for our son’s life. We thank God each and every day for his life. It is not possible to properly thank D and all of our doctors, and nurses for our son’s life. Without them and the decisions they made on November 12^th, our son would not be here.

Looking back at some of these pictures is very difficult, but it also shows how amazing our Lord is...

Before leaving our house for the clinic on the morning of November 11th. We were so excited to meet our son.

A nurse asked Patrick for his phone in the moments I was able to meet our son. 

These were some of the most very difficult moments of our life.

Before Beckett was transferred to the U of M.

Our first photo together as a family at the U of M on November 12th.

Day 2... November 13th.

Holding onto Mommy's finger on November 14th.

After Beckett's extubation on November 14th.

Holding onto Daddy's finger.

Taking his bubber (pacifier) on November 14th.

Taking his bubber with some milk on November 15th.

Holding our sweet son for the very first time on November 15th.

He's checking out his handsome Daddy.

First family selfie.

Heading to his MRI on November 15th.

Beckett moved to a crib instead of the heated bed on November 16th.

Being held by his Daddy.

November 17th.

We moved to our private NICU room on November 18th.

November 19th.

November 20th.

Our sweet boy no longer needed his oxygen on November 20th.

November 21st... our last full day in the NICU.

November 22nd... Time to head home.

Finally home and so thankful.

First night of sleep at home.

Beckett Mason's Nursery

It was like I was a kid again, riding home on the school bus on Halloween knowing as soon as I got home my mom would have our costumes at the ready, a snack to eat, and we’d be off to the neighborhood Halloween party where a group of 20 kids would eat pizza, read a Halloween book, and eat way too many sweets before trick-or-treating with our best friends…

This past week, we set up most of our nursery. We have a few finishing touches to add here in the coming weeks, but Patrick has worked so hard on readying the walls of the nursery. Bless him as this project was way more work than we initially thought! On Wednesday, he told me we could “probably” set up the crib that evening when I got home from work. He knows me too well… he wouldn’t tell me this unless he was planning on setting up the crib that evening because I would have asked (like a child) about it until he made it happen. The man has the patience of a saint.

On the way home from work, I was giddy; so excited that we were finally at the point of readying our little boy’s room. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratefulness and excitement to be at this point in our pregnancy. Our sweet boy is due to arrive in less than 7 weeks. What I didn’t expect from the evening was the rollercoaster of emotions both Patrick and I felt.

Patrick was just beginning to pull the tape off the walls when I arrived home. I brought Beckett’s mattress with me that I picked up at the store on my way home from work. Then, I began to unpack our spare room closet. I pulled out some of the items I have purchased for Beckett during this pregnancy. I started to pull out the diapers I purchased during our pregnancy with Kylie, and finally, I unburied the crib that we had stuck in the back of the closet. A sense of sadness creeped over me as I stared at the pieces of the beautiful crib we picked out over a year and a half ago. I pushed the sadness down. I busied myself carrying the crib pieces into the nursery. Patrick put the crib together, and we pushed the dresser from the spare room into the nursery. The dresser too had sat against the wall in the spare room since the week after Kylie passed away.

We continued to set up the nursery. The emotions were building for both of us, we just didn’t talk about it. As good married couples do, we argued about where all of the pieces of furniture would go. We don’t have our glider quite yet, and we spent some time discussing where the glider would fit into the room. I lost my cool, took Zailey for a walk in the rain, and cried. When I returned home, both of us began to verbally recognize the sadness that walked right beside the joy of finally setting up Beckett's nursery. We had both longed and waited for this day. We had waited until third trimester to work on the nursery this time. You see, just before Kylie passed away, Patrick had painted the nursery closet and redid the shelves. It was so difficult to put everything away in the week after we returned from the hospital.

That evening, as we set up the crib and moved Beckett’s nursery furniture into place, we both felt a sense of sadness. We couldn’t help but think about how all of it was supposed to be for Kylie. The feelings of sadness, excitement, and joy are conflicting. But, that’s okay. Just as God guided us through our time of deep grief last year, He continues to faithfully guide us through the emotions of our pregnancy with Beckett.

In reflecting on all of our pregnancy with Beckett, especially as we walk through the third trimester, the key word I’d use to describe it all is grateful. I truly feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness to our Lord for Beckett’s precious life. I’m so grateful to my husband for working so hard on Beckett’s nursery and for putting it all together. I’m grateful for Beckett’s constant kicks and movements. I’m grateful that I wake up 4 times a night to use the bathroom. I’m grateful for the occasional sore back. I’m grateful for our weekly fetal monitoring appointments. I’m grateful that Beckett thinks I should wake up every morning between 3:30 and 5 for the day. I’m so grateful to Kylie and her life for giving me this perspective. This sense of gratitude and appreciation that I feel is another gift from our daughter. Her life continues to bless us over and over again. She continues to teach us so much about this world. 

Beckett Mason Byer - Our Pregnancy

Each evening, before dinner, Patrick and I sit together and pray. We pray over our meal, we pray over people, we pray over stresses, and for months we prayed for another pregnancy. Soon after having Kylie, we knew we wanted to have another baby as soon as God would bless us with another pregnancy and as soon as our wonderful medical team would advise. We knew that another baby wouldn’t replace Kylie, but our hearts so desired for another baby to warm our home and our lives.

I wasn’t initially certain if we’d share out the news of another pregnancy so broadly, but after Kylie passed away I sought so much comfort from reading others’ stories of hope. And our story certainly is one of hope and of a good and faithful God.

After Kylie’s birth, we were advised to wait a few months to try to become pregnant with another child. We did wait those few months and then another 8 (LONG) months before we found out we were pregnant with our sweet Beckett. God certainly used that time to work on my patience, endurance, and heart. God has opened my heart and given me such a sense of compassion towards those who wait months and years for a pregnancy. God showed me the constant frustration, worry, monthly anticipation, crushed hopes, and tears of those who walk through the journey of difficult conception. You see, we immediately became pregnant with Kylie. The first month without birth control, we were pregnant. Life was good and easy, and that is a wonderful story. I love when women share their stories of easy conception! They are heartwarming and lovely. But, what we don’t hear so often are the stories of women and couples who spend months and years trying to conceive. Before our time of waiting, I had no understanding of the emotional toil and time dedicated to thinking about conceiving a baby. I am so grateful for the perception God has given me along this journey.

For months, Patrick and I tried to conceive another child. After these months with MANY failed pregnancy tests and of huge frustration over cycle-tracking, I called my OB’s office. I was sobbing when I called, after an incredibly short cycle followed an insanely long one. I was so confused. An appointment was set for a month later… I remember thinking, “Great, now I have to wait another month.” But, another month we waited. Patrick and I sat with my OB at an appointment in December where she determined that I was likely not ovulating at all. We found out via a blood test later that month that indeed she was right. Patrick and I began monthly treatments of Letrozole (a minor fertility drug) to stimulate my body to ovulate. Oh, how relieved we were to be doing something to work towards another pregnancy.

On March 17, 2016, we learned we were expecting our second child. That morning will forever be imprinted in my mind. Each month, I tried to ensure myself that I would be okay with another failed pregnancy test. I continued to pray that God would allow me peace and comfort in trusting in His plan completely, knowing His timing is good. It is always good. But, let’s be real here, each month filled with more negative pregnancy tests crushed me. Patrick had left early on the morning of March 17^th to work out. My alarm went off, and I stumbled into the bathroom, knowing I could take the pregnancy test that morning. I took it and laid it on the counter. I turned the shower on and began making our bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, like always. I took a peek after a couple of minutes, and there on the counter, the second pink line was beginning to show up… faint, but it was showing up. Tears… tears immediately began streaming down my face. I dropped to my knees in the bedroom, praising our God with all my might, thanking Him for His grace, compassion, and blessings on our life. Patrick and I happened to ride the bus together that morning, where I showed him the picture of the positive test. His face was priceless. So much joy shone in his smile that morning.

We are now just over 29 weeks along in our pregnancy with our son, Beckett Mason Byer. We’ve been monitored very closely throughout this entire pregnancy. I am so thankful for our medical team. Not only are they incredibly thorough and wonderful at their jobs, they cater to our emotional needs as well. They call Kylie by name. We speak of her at most appointments. They have no idea what this means to us. They have no obligation to treat her life with such respect. At 14 weeks, we met our perinatologist (maternal-fetal medicine specialist). She is wonderful. She had read all about Kylie, her birth, and our case. I had been tested for the three most common types of blood-clotting disorders after Kylie’s birth and had tested negative to all three. Our perinatologist desired to test me for the three inherited types of blood clotting disorders. Sure enough, I tested positive for one of them. From that point on, I have been on blood thinners. I give myself a shot in the stomach once a day. We are grateful for our perinatologist’s thoroughness.

At 14 weeks we found out that our 2^nd sweet baby is a boy. We are incredibly thrilled! When we first became pregnant with his precious life, my initial feeling was that he is a boy. As the first trimester progressed, I noticed a very similar pregnancy to that of Kylie’s, so as we took our final guesses in the ultrasound room at 14 weeks, both of our final guesses were “girl.”

We continue to receive ultrasounds every 4 weeks, and at just over 30 weeks here, we begin weekly fetal monitoring. This just means we get to see our sweet boy quite often, ensuring his growth continues as expected. He is due the day after Thanksgiving, November 25, 2016.

Worry… this is something we try incredibly hard not to do. As pregnancy progresses, God continues to slowly lift the worry away. Our sweet boy continues to show us that he is completely healthy. In quiet moments, even in early pregnancy, when I am able to gather myself enough to draw incredibly near to our Father, His Holy Spirit has washed a complete sense of peace over me… He whispers to me to trust in Him and to release control because truly I have no control over this life. I feel His warm, gentle smile upon me when He can see that I have truly accepted the release of this control, and goodness, what a relief I feel when I truly accept that He’s got this… every little piece of this life.

Our sweet baby boy at just 6 weeks, 6 days

14 weeks

20 weeks

25 weeks

This past week, just shy of 29 weeks

29 weeks - We are so thankful to have entered the 3rd trimester last week.