The light keeps shining through.

It has been quite a busy few months. I finished up my last semester at Ensign in December, so I was extremely busy working on my schoolwork for the months prior to that.

In addition to that, Ricky and I have had an emotionally difficult couple of months, and though I am not sure I want to be sharing everything in detail quite so soon, I do think it is an important topic of conversation and I want to prevent others from experiencing the long, drawn out experience we had.

Content Warning: Miscarriage, Pregnancy loss, Grief

To make a long story short ("Too late!" ~ Clue), we did an IVF transfer at the beginning of October and received a positive pregnancy test two weeks later. We went in for an ultrasound at the clinic on the 24th and the doctor was a little concerned because it was measuring a little bit behind. He said I might experience a miscarriage if I encounter any bleeding in the next two weeks before the follow-up ultrasound. I did experience a tiny bit of bleeding the week of the appointment, but it wasn't as much as I thought it should have been for a miscarriage, so I was hopeful.

When we went back on the 7th, we were told that the embryo wasn't growing and was no longer viable. We were devastated, and I was given the option to wait for my body to handle the miscarriage, or I could take medicine to help the process along. I wanted to wait for my body to handle the miscarriage. The doctor recommended waiting two weeks and scheduling another ultrasound to make sure everything was clearing up safely. 

So I scheduled another ultrasound with a place closer to us and after a week, I was concerned because a) I hadn't experienced any additional bleeding whatsoever, and b) in my mind, the embryo had stopped growing even before our first ultrasound, which means it had already been about two weeks, so I should have started bleeding.

I messaged the clinic and asked if I should keep waiting til the ultrasound, and they said I should, but I didn't feel right about that. I was able to get my next ultrasound appointment moved up and be seen earlier. 

I thought I would be able to get the medicine prescribed at that appointment, but the doctor was concerned because it appeared I had a blighted ovum and she was worried about me hemorrhaging. So she recommended an OBGYN and I was able to see them on Friday–the day I was originally supposed to have the ultrasound anyway. She was able to prescribe me the medicine, and I took it the next day (November 22), and everything happened so quickly after that, I was grateful I didn't have to carry around the stress and weight of waiting for it to clear up any more. 

If I could go back and do it over again, I would ask for the medication upfront. If I couldn't take the medication first, I would make sure that I scheduled an ultrasound with an OBGYN. I didn't realize that the ultrasound place I had contacted wasn't an actual OBGYN office, nor that they wouldn't have an OBGYN in the office. 

I tried to fight for my health because from the first ultrasound to when I passed everything was just shy of 30 days. That is TOO LONG for my body to have my empty gestational sac inside when there was no yolk sac or anything else to be seen in it. I felt like I couldn't move forward with grieving and accepting I wasn't pregnant anymore until I was sure that everything was gone. 

I wanted to share my experience because I had no idea what to expect from this experience, and going back and forth from the clinic, to the ultrasound place, to the OBGYN office, made it really difficult for anyone to know exactly what was going on in the first place, but it also made it really difficult for me to be able to get any real answers. Next time, I will take the medication and go ahead and be seen by the OBGYN right from the start. 

So for anyone who experiences a miscarriage in the future (myself included), I want you to know several things:

1. I am here for you, always.

2. You can take the medication–it's okay.

3. Make sure that, if you need to schedule an ultrasound, you schedule it with an OBGYN office.

4. It's okay to take a day–or two, or three. However long you need. 

5. It wasn't your fault.

6. YOU ARE LOVED. 💜

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On December 30, 2025, I posted this to my Facebook page, but I also wanted to share it here:

One of my favorite movies about grief and loss that I think is a great depiction of grief and loss is The Starling, which can be found on Netflix. It stars Melissa McCarthy and has comedic elements but isn’t a comedy. 

My favorite quote from the movie reflects exactly how I’ve been feeling: “‘Cause everybody’s rolling along, living their lives like nothing happened, you know? And I’m saying, “Stop.” ‘Cause I wanna get off for a little bit.” 

My miscarriages were early, and we didn’t get a chance to know our babies, but our loss is still real, and I loved the way this movie shows the ups and downs of grief. 

Moments of productivity and determination. Moments of pain and despair. Every day is different. Every moment is different. Sometimes it feels like one step forward and three steps backwards. Trying to find connections. Trying to keep moving forward with the world when all I want to do is sit and cry and stay in the moments when I didn’t know it was over. The moments when I could plan for our baby’s future. 

I have more to say but am still thinking about how I want to say it. I just wanted to be honest about how HARD the last two months have been for me and how I’ve been in a fog but I’m starting to see some light. The fog keeps coming back but so does the light. I’m trying and want to thank everyone who has been so kind and loving. I don’t really want to end (or start) the year sad, but it’s how I’m feeling. I’m doing a lot better than I was, but I’m still healing. Thank you for being so kind.  #grief #loss #love

This past holiday season was more difficult than I anticipated. At first, the season was perfect. We read about the different names of Jesus each day of the month, watched fun Christmas movies, and shopped for each other. Christmas Day was lovely–we spent the morning opening presents from each other and then we went to spend the rest of the day at my parents'.

When we got home, Ricky went out walking, and I stayed home and crocheted and watched more Christmas movies–I was having such a great time. 

But at some point...I just got so sad and mad. I was looking forward to announcing our pregnancy. I had such a cute idea planned. I was also upset because I should have had a toddler, too. It would have been their first "real" Christmas. I watched my nephews have such a fun day and my heart ached because my baby should have been there, too. I should have been watching MY baby play with their cousins. 

So, to help me heal and finally make something FOR my babies, I decided I wanted to make them stockings that we can hang every year to remember them. So I made one stocking at the end of the year and started the second, which I finished this weekend. I want to put their names on them, but was having trouble figuring that out the way I originally wanted to do the names, so I have to do some more thinking about that first, but their stockings are done. 💜

Stockings I made for our babies.
Pattern: Bead Stitch Christmas Stocking

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here are two poems I wrote today–one takes pieces from my Facebook post, and the other is kind of a chiasmus poem that I'm really proud of. 💜

Moments

Life is full of moments–

moments of pleasure and delight,

moments of productivity and determination,

moments of pain and despair. 

Every day is different. 

Every moment is different. 

Every day that passes

shapes us into who

and what we are meant to become.

But some days feel like

one step forward, 

three steps backward. 

Trying to find connection.

Trying to move forward with the world

when all I want

is to sit and cry–

to stay suspended in the moments

before everything changed.

The moments when I didn't know

it was over.

The moments when the future felt certain,

when I could plan your life

before I ever held you.

Those moments still live in me–

tender, unforgotten,

etched into my heart

through grief.

These moments have passed–

as moments always will–

but live forever in my heart,

never far gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yearning Moments

We wanted you

from the moment

you implanted,

before we discovered

you were lost. 

Every moment after

that positive test,

we wanted you.

You were not

long in this world,

but you live on

in loud hopes,

dashed dreams,

aching memories,

and yearning moments.

We never heard

your little heartbeat,

and we never saw

your little form,

but we still loved you.

Grief captured us

the way you

were supposed to–

quickly and loudly,

panicked and unexpected–

but it stayed 

longer than you. 

We wanted you

every moment after

that positive test.

You were lost

before we discovered

you implanted–

from the moment

we wanted you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My plans and wishes for this year involve family history, temple work, and scripture study. I want to understand my covenants with God more, and I love that we are studying the Old Testament this year because the Old Testament is all about the covenants God makes with His children.

My word this year is "STRIVE/STRIVING". I'm striving to trust God, even when I fall short. I keep trying, even though it's been difficult. I'm striving to see the light, though the fog keeps rolling in. But I'm grateful that the light keeps shining through. 

I hope you had a lovely holiday season and that you have a wonderful year with your families.

I know that God is real, and that He loves us. Even when we feel lost and alone, He is always with us. I love you, too, and am so thankful for your presence in my life. I hope you had a peaceful Sunday. 💜

Xoxo

Mattie

God understands how I need to make changes.

Not only can we not serve from an empty vessel, we also can’t serve from a broken vessel. 

How do we fix our empty and broken vessels? In many ways, but there is one name for all of them: self-care. Self-care is important in all facets of life: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. It is also personal and unique to everyone.

These last two weeks, I have been thinking a lot about my miscarriage and baby Jesse (we decided on a name to help with the grieving process. We chose "Jesse Eden" because Jesse means "God exists" and Eden means "paradise", and we really liked that connection to God). I realized, if I hadn't had my miscarriage, I would be about 7.5 months pregnant right now. It was an unexpected intrusion of thoughts and I became quite emotional, as I hadn't thought about that in awhile. I had had a similar thought back in December, but it didn't quite hit as hard as it did this time, in part, I think, because it's so much harder for me not to remember that (according to my most-likely-inaccurate math) I was going to be giving birth during the end of March/beginning of April. And it's now March. I can't help but think about how close the end of my pregnancy would be now. The fact of how close I was to being a parent, is just so painfully obvious. I hate that it was taken from me, and from Ricky. 

It has made these last two weeks especially difficult as I try to get through my emotions and move on. There have been times where I have become absolutely distraught. The loss of control I have over my fertility journey is disheartening sometimes. This journey has been mentally taxing, and I have been so tired. My whole body is tired. My whole soul is tired. I am just so tired. Emotions are hard.

I’m never quite sure how to handle when this feeling–the loss of Jesse, of this experience–hits me. Sometimes I am just sad. Sometimes I watch something funny on tv. Sometimes I read a book. Sometimes I read the scriptures or listen to a conference talk. When I need to have something mindless to do with my hands, I will play video games or crochet. Sometimes I just sit and listen to music while scrolling on my phone. Sometimes I walk to the store for a pick-me-up treat. Sometimes, I just cry into Ricky's shoulder. He holds me and lets me cry, and it's just so comforting to have him here.

No matter what I end up doing, it always ends up being right for me at that time. That’s the beauty of self-care: recognizing what YOUR needs in the moment are and taking care of it.

For example...
Say you're taking care of a baby and they start crying. Immediately, you’re trying to figure out what’s wrong and what they need. They can't communicate with you very well verbally, but their actions say a lot. Even though they're crying and screaming, you don’t get mad at them or angry at them for needing something, right? Self-care is similar to that. You are trying to take care of yourself and figuring out what’s wrong and what you need. There's no need to get angry or mad at yourself for needing something. Your body is telling you you need something. That means you need to listen.

Today during testimony meeting, I had a lot of thoughts, and I just wanted to share a few.

• God understands how I need to make changes. I do not need to feel guilty or ashamed of my personal revelation to make changes in ways that are different than I have previously done/tried.
• My journey is different than I thought it would be, and that is okay. I am struggling to understand that, and that is also okay. 
• Heavenly Father knows that this is hard for me, and I am grateful for a loving Savior to turn to and depend on, as well as loving Heavenly Parents and a loving husband who supports and encourages me. I am also so grateful for sweet friends who know just what to say and do to love and support me. 

Yesterday, we went to the temple to do sealings for some family names my grandma had. As I was looking through the names, I found an ancestor with my name! It surprised me because this was on my mom's side, and I hadn't realized there was another Mattie in my family line. It was a sweet tender mercy from Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother. Another tender mercy was how many child-to-parents sealings there were during our session. I was so grateful for the emphasis on how important little children are to God. I often take time after visiting the temple to write down a few of my thoughts or any personal revelations I received during my time in the temple. Yesterday, my thoughts were short but sweet: "While not here long on the earth, Jesse is still a part of our family forever."

Jesse is a constant reminder to me that God exists. While I have been struggling lately with a lot of things, one thing that keeps me going is that I know Heavenly Father is there. I know Heavenly Mother is there. I have been working on a few projects that have kept me busy, and it has been good to be creative, and to connect with my Heavenly Parents in that way. When I am working on a project, I forget everything else, and am focused solely on creating my project. It brings me peace and joy to be able to focus on my projects without the emotional pain, and I know that is a blessing from my Heavenly Parents. 

I hope that, by sharing my feelings and emotions in this post, I will be able to heal and feel peace at the circumstances I find myself in. I hope that anyone who finds themself in a similar situation will know that they are not alone, and that they are loved by Heavenly Parents, their Savior, and me.

Xoxo

Mattie

His Love is More.

I'm so grateful for the opportunity I had to attend Relief Society today. I'm reminded of two weeks ago when I almost didn't go because I wasn't feeling the best after sacrament meeting, but when I saw it was Relief Society, the Spirit whispered, "Stay." So I did. And how grateful I am. We discussed President Nelson's talk from General Conference "Overcome the World and Find Rest", and what a blessing the discussion was. For some, the holiday season can be tiring and stressful. Our discussion was enlightening and I received several answers and personal revelation. I am so, so grateful for Relief Society, and for the wonderful bond of sisterhood that I have been able to experience in the wards that I have resided in.

Doing my best–one moment, one minute, one hour, one day at a time.

I have been pondering whether or not to share this experience, but ultimately, I decided that it would help me to talk about it, even though I am still experiencing feelings of sadness and heartache about it, and I felt that it was important for people to know that it is okay to talk about these things.

Earlier this month, I experienced what I have come to understand is known as "a chemical pregnancy". According to the Cleveland Clinic, "A chemical pregnancy is a very early miscarriage that happens within the first five weeks of pregnancy. An embryo forms and may even embed in your uterus lining (implantation), but then it stops developing. Chemical pregnancies occur so early that many people who miscarry don’t realize it."

The only reason that I knew that I had a chemical pregnancy was because I have PCOS, and in order for me to ensure that I am taking the medication I need at the proper times, I need to be monitored frequently throughout my cycle. 

So, on July 15, I went into my doctor's office and had my blood drawn so they could do a pregnancy test. I later received a call that said that the test was positive, and that they were cautiously optimistic, but I should go back on Monday to ensure that my hCG levels were increasing as they are supposed to. I went back on Monday for them to draw my blood again, but when they called back, they said that my levels had decreased, and I was no longer pregnant. This resulted in my experiencing a miscarriage.

It was very unexpected, and I had a really hard time with the results that day. I ended up crying for a portion of time after the phone call. I was devastated throughout the rest of the week. It is so weird to me that tomorrow it will be two weeks since that phone call. It seems like a lifetime ago. 

I have been very lucky to have a village of love and support behind me as I have gone and am going through this experience. I am so thankful for those who have sent me well wishes and prayers. I truly appreciate every single one of you.

I am comforted by the stories of Abraham and Sarah, as well as Hannah in the Old Testament, which we are studying this year. While I do not expect to be exactly like Sarah and become pregnant at 99 years old, I am comforted that the Lord keeps His promises. As I am currently like Hannah, in that I am longing for a blessing I have yet to receive, I am comforted that as I continue to do my part, the Lord will bless me. 

While I hope and pray that it will be sooner, I know that it most likely won't be when I would like it to be. Though that makes me sad, I am not discouraged. I am doing my best to not only do my part, but I am doing my best to move forward. One moment, one minute, one hour, one day at a time. Because that is all I can do. I am only human, and I want to be a mom, but right now, that's not in the plan. So sometimes I am sad about that. But I am doing my best to serve those around me, to study the scriptures, and speak and connect with my Heavenly Parents and my Savior. I am doing my best to tell my husband how I am feeling. I am doing my best. And that is all that I can do.

I am grateful for loving Heavenly Parents and a Savior who are on and by my side always. I am thankful that They love and support me in everything I am doing. I am grateful that They let me know how loved I am, and how much They want me to be happy. I am grateful for the time that I get to spend with Them in the temple, serving the ancestors of all on Earth. I am grateful for the Holy Ghost, who comforts me when I need it, and helps me discern promptings.

I hope you have a great week! God loves you, and I do too. 

Xoxo

Mattie