We have been dealing with secondary infertility for well over 3 years now, and we thought we caught a break in January on my 7th round of Clomid. We were pregnant with twins. We were so excited. We unfortunately lost baby B at 7 weeks, but Baby A was doing wonderfully. On May 7th, my husband was out of town, and asked me to make an appointment with our obgyn because my stomach had been hurting the past couple days on and off. I figured it was the food I was eating like ice cream, since I'm lactose intolerant.

But to make my husband happy and less worried, I made the appointment while our 8 year old is in school.

I will never forget the look of confusion and shock on my doctors face. Our baby was only measuring out to be 14 weeks... and I was 17 weeks along. She tried her best to find the heartbeat, but couldn't.

My husband flew home immediately, which I thank God that he could. Theres no way that I could've dealt with this by myself and take care of our son.

I delivered our Baby on may 14th, and found out it that the baby was a boy... whom we had prayed and longed for, for years.

We will never know why he stopped growing, the placenta came back normal from the lab. We choose not to send our son, whom we named Phoenix, to the lab for further testing. We couldn't bear the thought of him being in a lab.

The only time I feel remotely like myself is when my husband is home. Other than that, I'm barely hanging on. And sometimes not even that.

I have no idea what to do from here. I'm broken.