Rachael and I got married in August 2023. It was a beautiful day, full of love and promise. From the start, we both knew we wanted a child. Not just because it was something people do—but because of what we had lost. I lost my dad when I was young, and Rachael lost her little sister. Those holes never closed. In some way, we thought building a family might help us carry the weight. We tried the natural way. Nothing. So we turned to IVF. It was overwhelming—appointments, meds, injections, waiting. But we did it together, holding each other through every step. Then came the embryo transfer. We were nervous but hopeful. After seven positive pregnancy tests, we dreamed—about her tiny clothes, about her first words, about her life. Then came the bleeding. The doctor confirmed what we feared. A miscarriage. That loss hit harder than we expected. We hadn’t even met her, but we already loved her. And losing that hope... it felt like losing someone all over again. We’re still here, though. Still married. Still in love. Still hoping. And we’re not done yet. We're just asking for a little help.