Infertility is often whispered about, hidden behind closed doors, and drowned out by shame. But Sam’s journey—marked by over a decade of loss, hope, heartbreak, and resilience—is one that deserves to be heard, honored, and shared.
As a Charlotte maternity and newborn photographer, I have the privilege of witnessing the quiet strength of so many families. Sam and Zane’s story is a powerful reminder that motherhood doesn’t always begin with a positive test—it begins with hope.
A Lifelong Awareness of Infertility
Sam’s story begins long before she ever tried to conceive. At just 12 years old, she experienced severe pain that led doctors to discover ovarian cysts. By 13, she was placed on birth control to manage the symptoms—years before she fully understood what any of it would mean for her future. As time went on, Sam was told she had Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) and endometriosis—two of the most common causes of infertility. Even then, she held tightly to her dream of becoming a mom.
A Decade of Determination
At 17, Sam began trying to conceive. What followed were 12 long years of trying, hoping, losing, and starting over. Sam pushed through nine medicated cycles, including Clomid and Letrozole, followed by two rounds of Intrauterine Insemination (IUI) at Kindbody in Atlanta.
Their first IUI failed. The second brought a glimpse of hope—a positive test—but ended in a chemical pregnancy. A month later, they conceived naturally again, and heartbreakingly, that pregnancy ended just as quickly.
Still, they didn’t give up. Through additional testing, Sam was diagnosed with a balanced translocation —a chromosomal abnormality where parts of chromosomes 13 and 14 were fused. While Sam had everything she needed to become a person, this translocation can prevent embryos from developing properly. It was an answer that finally brought clarity but also complexity. The only viable path forward was In Vitro Fertilization (IVF).
Baby Seven
IVF brought a new wave of hope. Of the 27 eggs retrieved, 11 were biopsied and sent for PGT (preimplantation genetic testing). Only two were viable—a girl and a boy.
They transferred their first embryo in September, choosing not to know the gender until afterward. That embryo didn’t stick. Later, they learned it had been embryo #5, their girl.
In November, they transferred embryo #7.
This time, it felt different. It was different. They saw his heartbeat. They heard it. Her body began to change. She took close to 40 pregnancy tests because she couldn’t stop staring at those two pink lines. For the first time, she and Zane allowed themselves to feel joy, to plan, to believe.
“We called him Seven… Seven was our miracle, our lucky number, our hope.”
They called him Seven—not just because he was the seventh embryo, but because the number had always held special meaning. It was Sam’s favorite number. She had worn it in softball. Her uncle had worn it while playing professional baseball. It felt right. It felt lucky.
The Heartbreak
Two days before Christmas, they graduated from their fertility clinic—a celebration that felt like a checkpoint on the way to the finish line. But just weeks later, at nearly 10 weeks pregnant, an ultrasound brought the unthinkable. There was no heartbeat.
“He was real. He is real. He’s just not earthside with us.”
Sam had seen his tiny flicker of life. Felt the physical changes. Bought him clothes. Told her family. The loss was beyond devastating. And still, people tried to minimize it. She was told she shouldn’t have announced so early. Or at least it was early. And that maybe it wasn’t meant to be.
The grief that followed was earth-shattering. Sam had already endured three chemical pregnancies, but this loss was different. She had seen him, heard him, carried him, told her family, and picked out names.
“He had clothes, a Christmas ornament, and a future.”
Sam and Zane tattooed his embryo number on their hands. Seven was very real and, for a few beautiful weeks—loved, celebrated, and deeply wanted. He is their son, and he is so, so loved.
Grieving, Loving, and Hoping Again
Grief is not linear. Some days, Sam finds herself laughing. Other days, the brush of a hand across her belly brings her to tears. Even their dog still lays her head on her stomach, returning memories of when Sam would ask, “Where’s the baby?”
“There’s so much grief and guilt that isn’t talked about with infertility, IVF, and pregnancy loss.”
Through it all, Sam speaks openly and bravely about the guilt—guilt over feeling hope again, guilt over moments of laughter, and guilt over wanting to try again. But also gratitude. Gratitude that she got to carry Seven. That she got to love him. That he existed.
“I’m not trying to replace him. I know that. But my brain is telling me I am, and I feel like a bad mom.”
Honoring Pregnancy Loss and Speaking the Unspoken
As a motherhood photographer in Charlotte, I’ve seen how little space society allows for grief—especially for pregnancy and infant loss. But Sam is changing that.
She shares her story bravely, reminding families they are not alone. Sam also dreams of becoming a surrogate someday—to help another family walk a road she knows all too well. Her heart, even in pain, is wide open.
A Community Fundraiser for Sam and Zane
In honor of Sam and Zane’s strength, love, and resilience, their families and a dear friend, Danielle, have come together to host a special event to support them and raise funds for the organization Out of the Ashes.
Mark your calendars for Saturday, April 26th from 1–6 PM at Grace O’Malley’s in downtown Matthews!
This fun-filled event will feature:
- Live music
- Games and a bounce house
- Raffles (including a beach trip!)
All proceeds will benefit Sam and Zane Burchfield and Out of the Ashes, an incredible Charlotte-based nonprofit that supports families navigating infertility, pregnancy loss, and early childhood loss. The organization also helps with the financial burden of related medical bills.
Pre-Order Fundraiser Merch:
- T-Shirts: $30
- Bracelets: $5
To order, send payment via Venmo to @SomeMiraclesTakeTime and include you’d like a bracelet or shirt as well as your size in the message.
Your support means everything. Join us in celebrating Sam and Zane’s journey, honoring Seven, and standing with families walking similar paths.
How We Can Support
Sam’s story is not just one of loss—it’s one of love. It’s one of strength. It’s a reminder that grieving parents walk among us every day, often in silence. But they shouldn’t have to.
As she continues her journey, she’s raising awareness for infertility, pregnancy loss, and the urgent need for better support for families at every stage of this emotional path.
If you feel moved by her story, share it. Say Seven’s name. Talk about loss. Talk about infertility. Let’s stop whispering.
You are not alone, and Sam and Zane are proof of the strength that lives in every family-in-waiting.
Finding Your Rainbow – A New Beginning
If you’re walking the path of infertility and hoping for your Rainbow Baby, we see you.
Our Rainbow Baby Photography Program in Charlotte is dedicated to honoring babies born after loss—with empathy, tenderness, and love. You can learn more about our program, “Finding Your Rainbow,” here.
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Month, we are proud to uplift stories like Sam’s and support organizations that provide community care and care for women and families navigating infertility. If you want support or need a community in the Charlotte area please reach out to RESOLVE Charlotte’s infertility support group. RESOLVE.
