Meet Jorgianna and Wesley VonBuskirk, the 2024 $10K Family Building GIFTaway recipients. We’ve never shared the story written from a recipient’s application before, but with their permission, we are. This is His story, and it’s all for His glory. I hope that you take the time to read it in its entirety.
My name is Jorgianna, and my husband is Wesley VonBuskirk. We live in Tennessee.
Hear my heart.
Three years ago, I could count on my fingers alone how many people I had shared this story with. It’s personal. It’s incredibly raw and painful.
For an entire decade, I kept my infertility a huge secret because I felt like I was too young at the time that I found out for anyone to care. It was scary for me to share publicly when I did, but I wanted others to know that they were not alone, like I felt for so many years. I began sharing my story with the world. Now, I am a huge advocate for those struggling with infertility, and I boldly share my story openly and vulnerably.
Here is that story.
When I was 16 years old, I found out that I had a rare genetic abnormality called mosaicism. Even more rare, my specific type of mosaicism targeted my ovaries. My genetics are a medical phenomenon that happens in only three out of every one million births. I am one of the three in one million.
The physician informed me that my ovaries would begin producing cancerous tumors if that hadn’t begun already. I was told that this was a 100% guarantee and that without the removal of both of my ovaries (and quickly), I would die before my 21st birthday.
Those words hit me like a brick wall.
I broke down sobbing like I had never in my life before that point . . . I remember asking for confirmation, time after time, before leaving the doctor’s office that there was no other way. I begged and pleaded for any solution without sterilization.
I cried not because of the talk of cancer and death but because I knew this meant that I would never be able to have genetically related children.
I have never wanted to be anything in my life more than I desire to be a mama. Anyone who knows me knows that well.
Hearing this devastating news was soul-crushing. My heart was shattered.
I entered the darkest days of my life to that point. I cried myself to sleep for months.
I had nightmares night after night of my babies being ripped away from me and dying. I couldn’t save them. I would startle awake in tears with my heart pounding. It was torture.
I remember picking up a hairbrush and having a total meltdown because all I could think was, “I’ll never get to brush my little girl’s hair.” I had no idea that a hairbrush could be a trigger, but it absolutely was.
I had multiple instances where I would feel my throat swell, and I felt like I could collapse in the aisle at Walmart at any given second just because I had to walk past the baby section.
I had dreamed of being a registered nurse since I was 14 years old, with labor & delivery being my only specialty interest. Now, my infertility threatened that dream. I didn’t know if my heart could take it, and I didn’t want to be bitter.
The depression drained the life from me. I hid my heartache well from others, but it took every ounce of energy in my body to get up and get ready in the morning . . . I remember thinking that I would rather die of ovarian cancer than never be a mama . . . I felt hopeless.
I asked God, “Why me?!?” what felt like a million times.
Two days after Christmas in 2011, I had surgery to remove both of my ovaries to save my life. It felt violating.
BUT GOD, through much time, countless prayers, and thousands of tears, pulled me out of that terrible darkness and assured me that He was there with me. He offered hope and grace in the midst of my storm. He told me I WOULD be a mama, just not how I had planned. Getting there would be a challenging journey, but He would be with me every step of the way.
And He was.
A pathology report later showed that a cancer start had, in fact, already begun in one of my ovaries by the time the surgery was performed. Ovarian cancer is very hard to detect early and spreads very quickly. The doctor called me her “miracle patient.”
I decided I wouldn’t let my fear destroy my dreams, and I pursued a career in nursing as planned. After graduating from my university, I spent a year working as the nurse manager of a pregnancy care center before working almost three years as a labor & delivery and nursery nurse.
With the “good outcome” patients, I asked, “Why can’t that be me?”
With Department of Child Services cases of physical abuse and drug use, I thought, “These precious babies deserve so much better than this.”
With stillbirths, I tried to stay professional and hold it together until I stepped out of my patient’s room before I broke down and cried for them and their loss.
I saw terrible things that I could never unsee.
However, I am forever proud of my time spent helping to bring life into this world as a labor and delivery nurse.
I now practice as a public health nurse for the Tennessee Department of Health.
. . . . .
Flashback to the moment that I found out that infertility would now be a guaranteed and permanent part of me: It took only a matter of minutes for me to think, “But how will I ever find someone to willingly CHOOSE infertility with me, as my husband? Anyone who wants children as much as I do would never willingly choose infertility.”
Now, I know that God had already worked that out as well.
Eight years after my surgery, I met Wesley almost to the exact day. Very quickly, I knew that he was someone incredibly special. We had been dating for a couple of months when I knew that I couldn’t hide my infertility anymore if I wanted something serious to come from our relationship. If he couldn’t handle my infertility, then I needed him to walk away before I became even more attached to him. I reasoned that this could very likely be a deal-breaker for him, and I needed to know if it was sooner rather than later.
I poured my heart out to him through tears one evening. He listened so intently. I knew by his eyes that he had compassion for me . . . He let me say all that I needed to say, never interrupting. Then, finally, he took a breath and said, “I am so sorry that you have had to experience all that you have. I can’t imagine what you have been through. That breaks my heart for you, but I do have to let you know that I have infertility myself.” . . . I couldn’t say anything except, “Wait . . . What?!?!”
It was all coming together. God had worked this out.
Wesley has severe Crohn’s Disease, and his doctor had informed him that a necessary treatment he had taken for those years before had brought his infertility to about 90% . . . I was floored.
I could only now, eight years later, see God’s hand so clearly. It all made sense . . . If I had not had infertility myself, it would have been a massive struggle for me to accept that in him and vice versa. However, the infertility being mutual allowed us to bond over that instead.
First comes love, then comes marriage…
We married Three years ago, and it was the most perfect day. I have rewatched our wedding video and cried tears of joy simply at the goodness and grace of God bringing us together. It was the happiest day of our lives.
Since then, attempting to build a family has made for an excruciatingly painful time of heartache and grief. We have been to four fertility clinics, three reproductive endocrinologists, two embryo adoption agencies, and now through one independent embryo adoption. We have adopted three sets of two embryos each time. I have also been through four saline infusion sonograms, three surgeries, and two uterine biopsies.
With our first fertility clinic, we had two consults before we were informed that their embryo adoption waitlist was three to five years long.
At our second fertility clinic, the reproductive endocrinologist performed genetic testing and a saline infusion sonogram before declining to continue seeing me as a patient. According to this doctor, the clinic does not take on cases with my genetic makeup.
Onto our third fertility clinic, we went. This fertility clinic did not have an embryo donation program in-house. Therefore, we began the process of embryo adoption through an agency. Over several months, we completed training, testing, background checks, and psychological evaluations to be approved for donor matching. We couldn’t contain our gratitude when we finalized the adoption contract for our first two precious embryos.
For our first embryo transfer procedure, we went to the hospital our fertility clinic had partnered with in St Louis on February 1st, 2023. We were hoping to be able to surprise everyone with a huge pregnancy announcement.
Two days after the transfer, I began getting typical pregnancy symptoms. Although the symptoms were uncomfortable, they were gladly welcomed and filled me with so much hope.
The pregnancy symptoms continued for five days. That night, I got a positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw a second line. I stood in awe. I was absolutely thrilled beyond measure. After ALL that we had been through to become pregnant, it had finally happened!
I held in my excitement and played it cool because I wanted to surprise Wesley with the wonderful news the next day.
I tested again the next morning to ensure that the test line was getting darker, but the test was stark white where a second line should have been . . . negative . . .
I then had a blood draw that afternoon to test for pregnancy, which was also negative. It was an early blood draw, so it technically wasn’t 100% confirmatory, but at that point, I had stopped having any pregnancy symptoms at all, and I just knew . . .
I waited a couple of days and went back for a definitive blood draw, and I continued to watch my HCG level drop.
The brief positive pregnancy test indicates that our embryo did implant but was lost within a very short amount of time after implantation occurred.
She was a baby girl. We named her Lanna Grace.
Our hearts were completely shattered. We were broken. We were devastated. We were grieving. We were hurt. We were confused.
I wasn’t even sure how to move forward with “normal” after something that soul-crushing. . . But “the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
In the good times, I will praise Him . . . And in the bad times, I will praise Him.
Even so, it was such an incredibly deep valley.
Following the loss, I needed all possible answers for why this didn’t work before trying again. I needed that for my sanity.
I began with a pregnancy loss panel that tested for all kinds of issues, such as systemic inflammation, autoimmune reactions, and blood clotting disorders. We discovered that I have a compound heterozygous MTHFR gene mutation, which can cause micro-clotting, indicating that I need to be on an anti-thrombolytic protocol with blood thinners.
I then opted for a uterine biopsy to test for uterine endometriosis and uterine infection. All tests for uterine infection came back normal. However, the “H-score” was high, indicating the presence of endometriosis. Surgery was required and scheduled.
I had a laparoscopy, hysteroscopy, and D&C performed on the day of surgery. I woke up in recovery, surprised to be informed that there was, in fact, no endometriosis present at all. Only one small polyp.
After assessing the inside and outside of the uterus for all possible physiologic and anatomic issues and running a gamut of blood tests, we felt confident moving forward, feeling that all issues were assessed, accounted for, and under control.
I had a positive pregnancy test on Monday following my second embryo transfer procedure. I was absolutely elated.
“Thank you, Lord. You are so good.” I whispered as I stared at the two lines in front of me.
I woke up the next morning to the same fate as our first embryo transfer – a positive night test followed by a negative morning test.
On that Friday, we received final confirmation that we had lost our sweet baby girl, Loralai.
My Loralai Joy will never be forgotten for as long as I live.
My heart was again entirely shattered. I was stunned that we had been placed into this deep valley all over again. I had hoped that it was finally my time. . Again . . . And it wasn’t . . . Again.
It felt exceedingly unfair.
Having the trauma from the last time repeat itself in the same way was triggering. The pain and hurt forced me to withdraw from my normal self.
And yet, even so, I trusted Him.
Because He is still good.
At this point. This reproductive endocrinologist didn’t have any more suggestions for us or any answers for why I wasn’t able to sustain either pregnancy. We determined we needed fresh eyes on the case and moved to a new fertility clinic with a new reproductive endocrinologist.
We also had no more embryos at this point. We were on a waitlist with our original agency, but in an effort to obtain embryos in a time-efficient manner, we opted to utilize a different agency for our second embryo adoption, where we adopted two more embryos.
The new physician stated that she believed that I needed a different amount of hours of progesterone before the transfer procedure to sustain pregnancy. She recommended a uterine biopsy called an ERA to assess the specific number of hours of progesterone needed for my uterus to be receptive to embryo implantation. The results showed that I needed significantly fewer progesterone hours than standard. We adjusted my medication protocol accordingly and proceeded with the cycle.
I took all kinds of medications, many times per day, through all different routes . . . Pills, patches, suppositories, injections . . . I did it all like clockwork. When transfer day finally arrived, we were informed that we had lost an embryo. When the lab team went to thaw the first embryo, they found an empty zona and the precious embryo was no longer inside the outer shell. Tears immediately began flowing down my face at hearing this terrible news appearing from nowhere. However, I was quickly encouraged by the doctor not to lose hope because we would still transfer our remaining embryo that day. This embryo looked “fantastic,” in the doctor’s professional opinion. I moved to the operating room for the procedure. The ultrasound probe was placed on my abdomen, and the look on the doctor’s face was enough to tell me that things had gone very wrong. She quickly moved the monitor screen away from me so that I could not view the imaging, which only further confirmed my suspicion. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I was terrified to hear even more bad news, so I waited in silence for her to speak first. She eventually informed us that the transfer procedure would not be taking place. My uterine lining had deteriorated entirely, and my uterus was filled with blood. The uterine lining had become too thick and wasn’t able to be stabilized by medication, so it began to break down. It felt so incredibly wrong to walk out of the clinic that day without a beautiful life inside of me.
I was instructed to wait for a menstrual cycle and then return to the clinic.
I returned as directed and was informed, following a saline infusion ultrasound, that I now had many polyps in my uterus, and surgery would be required to remove them.
Surgery was scheduled for the very next day. After surgery, I returned to the clinic one week later. At that point, I was informed that fluid was being retained in my uterus, dictating that my new transfer date would have to be canceled. I would be forced to start all over again.
I was started on medication to prevent fluid from building in my uterus again. After another menstrual cycle, I could restart the weeks of preparation.
Another saline infusion ultrasound was performed. I was informed that I had uterine polyps once again. This meant that I would have to have surgery yet again.
Following this third surgery, I was informed that I not only had uterine polyps, but I also had extensive scar tissue which connected from the top of my uterus all the way down to the bottom of my uterus. The scar tissue was removed, and a balloon bulb was placed internally to prevent regrowth. This balloon bulb was in place for three days before it could be removed.
After many back-to-back cycle cancelations due to numerous complications that brought us many tears, through much perseverance, we were finally able to complete an entire stimulation cycle without any complications. We were finally able to get to transfer day.
Unfortunately, this ended once again in heartbreak when we learned that we had lost yet another precious embryo. She never implanted. Her name is London Adah.
While to the rest of the world, my daughters will be mostly forgotten; they will never, ever be forgotten by me. I will hold them in my heart for the rest of this life until I can hold them in my arms in Heaven.
I wish more than anything that I could have them here with me and their daddy. I wish I could snuggle them for hours. I wanted to watch them grow, and I wanted to teach them about life. I imagined teaching them all about Jesus and His goodness, but the thing about that is . . . well . . . They now get to spend their entire lives with Him. Maybe they can show me a thing or two when I get there.
Until then, there will never be a day that I won’t think of them, my sweet girls.
So my husband and I have now been through three embryo transfers, and we have now lost three precious daughters, our sweet baby girls, Lanna, Loralai, and London.
The grief that followed each and every time? . . . Entirely all-consuming . . .
Dramatic tragedy happening over and over left us weak. However, we have faith that this will all work together to bring glory and honor to Him. What we do know is that God knows what we don’t, sees what we can’t, and works in ways we don’t know to ask for.
Just in the last two months, only by the grace of God, I was able to connect with someone on an infertility page who was willing to donate her remaining embryos. She and her husband have been so wonderful and kind. In a way that only God could orchestrate, we found out that this donor actually already uses my very own fertility clinic! What are the odds? Not only that, but she even works at my fertility clinic! We only later recognized that we had actually even had a brief interaction with each other at the clinic many months prior. Only God could have brought us into each other’s path the way that He did, and I believe that was for a divine reason. As a result, my husband and I have now been blessed to be able to complete an adoption contract for two more precious embryos who have been lovingly placed into our care. We felt beyond humbled as we watched how God worked this out in such an unexpected way.
Our prayer is that one day, very soon, our life story will be one that proves the sovereignty of God’s good hand.
We have a special room waiting that has been “the nursery” since we first stepped into our house, before even signing a contract.
I picture it all so vividly.
I look forward to walking into the room filled with our baby’s belongings.
I can’t wait to hold our little one in the corner of this room while watching our tiny baby drift off to sleep.
I often imagine what this room will be like when it is filled with immense presence . . . sweet laughter . . . midnight feedings . . . morning snuggles . . . Bible story readings each night before bed . . . Maybe the first steps will take place right inside the four walls of this sacred space.
I only later found out, a year and a half after living in the home, that the original owners had a nursery for twins in the room we had set aside. How beautiful would it be to utilize the room again for that exact purpose?
I will hold this room as long as it takes. This is a room that only our child can fill. I will keep praying over this room as I wait.
Our journey is not over. We have faith that God is for us and not against us.
However, we are currently at a standstill. We have exhausted all our savings to reach our dream of becoming parents. Now, we have nothing left. If we could be the recipients of this 10k GIFTaway, that would enable us to pursue another embryo transfer. You have no idea how grateful we would be to receive such an enormous blessing. That would completely blow us away. We would be beyond humbled. We wouldn’t be able to stop thanking God for His provision.
I have seen how God has blessed each recipient thus far. I believe this is due to the fact that you pray so fervently over the couple to which the money is given. I believe that God hears your prayers and answers them as a testament to your diligence. My husband and I desperately desire to be in the next chapter of this story. I believe that you are the vessel through which God will facilitate an absolute miracle, all for His glory. As He has done before, He will do it again. Nothing is impossible with God. We believe in His power. We deeply desire to be a part of His next miracle.
Wesley and Jorgianna, Waiting for Baby Bird Ministries, is honored to play such a small role in being His hands and feet. We are all praying and eagerly awaiting how God will redeem, restore, and fulfill the longing within our hearts. Your humble yet bold faith is inspiring, and we all stand in awe of your strength. May those who come across your story also be inspired to persevere and hold onto hope amid the storm.
