8 year gap

After Malia joined our family, I felt overwhelmed for a good year and a half. Not because Malia was a hard baby, quite the opposite, Malia was my dream baby. She had her moments, but for the most part she was super easy. She was a perfect mix of Teesh and Sierra. Just having three kids in five years was hard for me. Corby was back in the bishopric and working so much I felt like I never had any personal time. I was the young women's president and had an extremely full plate.
When Malia was approaching 2 I knew we needed to start thinking of number 4. I loved the idea of having another baby, but the idea of taking care of it really scared me. I put my fears a side and we began the adventure of increasing our family yet once again.
We tried for an entire year with no success. I was super confused with this outcome. I did not understand why I could have my first three relatively easy, but now I was infertile. Friends gave me referrals to doctors that had helped them, but nothing seemed to help me. Doctors told me there was nothing wrong and most people experience infertility but never know this because they usually stop having children so they don't ever realize it. 
I knew that I needed to have more children and this is my experience why.
While I was in the hospital after having had Malia in April, my Grandma McCleary, who had passed away in January, came to me during a quiet moment. My grandma said these words, "Don't quit trying, you have two more children." I thought this to be odd since I had no intentions to stop my family at three girls. I shrugged my shoulders and thought that was a strange. I did not think much about that phrase until years later. I soon found that that phrase would give me the courage to continue through the path of trials I had before me.
After a year and a half  of trying, I finally found a doctor up in Layton, UT who seemed he might be able to help me out. He did some tests on both Corby and myself and when the results were in, we met with him. He was so busy, every appointment was like a 2 hour process. He was always getting called out to deliver a baby. Having to drive from Magna to Layton took about 45 minutes so on appointment days it was an all day adventure. After meeting with Dr. Johnson multiple times, he diagnosed me with PCOS (PolyCysticOvarian Syndrome) He put me on some medication and changed my diet. After a few months, I became pregnant. WhaLaaa, angels started singing, my problem was  fixed, here comes baby number 4! I told everyone as soon as I knew I was pregnant. Hey, why not, every other time I was pregnant I always had a healthy baby to hold 9 months later, every time....... except this. About 9 to 11 weeks into the pregnancy I started bleeding. This was foreign to me so I immediately phoned Dr Johnson and he had us come up. It was awful. I just could not stop bleeding and I was so scared. When we arrived in Layton, he did an internal ultrasound and told me the dreaded news, baby had died. He showed me on the screen what the placenta was supposed to look like at this point in the pregnancy and what mine looked like. I cried on the table for a long time. Doc tried to console me, Corby tried, but nothing helped. The drive home was long and lonely. The bright side was I got pregnant so there was hope! My good friend, Debby Bylund came over and shared in my sorrow. Most people when they heard of my news acted like no big deal. My favorite phrase that was repeated often, "Well, at least you have three girls at home." Yep that is so comforting!
I am sad to report this process was repeated four more times. It would take me a year to get pregnant than I would lose the baby anywhere from 9 to 15 weeks. I got to the point I could read the image on the screen and knew the bad news before they told me. What a dark lonely time the next 5 years were. With each loss, I would get rid of infant stuff. I got to the point I literally had nothing more to get rid of. I quit taking my fertility drugs and threw my hands in the air and said I am done. The heartache I experienced with each loss was unbearable. I told the Lord I am done, 3 girls will be our family and honestly I was content with that. I told my dead grandma, "sorry, if I am suppose to have two more, then you will have to intervene because I am throwing in the towel". I accept defeat until.................