“Oliver Will Get Them Here” — Sarah Herron on IVF, Loss, and the Journey to Mothering Twins
When many hear the name Sarah Herron, they think of her time on The Bachelor. But long after the cameras stopped rolling, Sarah’s story unfolded in ways far more profound and heartbreaking than any reality TV show could capture. Today, she is known not only as a television personality, but as an IVF warrior, loss mom, disability advocate, nonprofit founder, and mother to twin daughters after loss.
In this episode of The Rainbow Connection Podcast, Sarah shares her journey with raw honesty—from the devastation of infertility to the sacred love she carries for her son Oliver, and the bittersweet joy of welcoming her daughters after loss.
Facing Infertility at 32
Sarah’s path to motherhood began with an unexpected diagnosis. At 32, she was told she had diminished ovarian reserve (DOR). Her OB was blunt: natural conception might not be possible, and time wasn’t on her side. IVF was their best chance.
The news was crushing. “As a 32-year-old woman who wasn’t even married yet, it felt traumatic,” she recalled. But her partner Dylan’s immediate response was steady and supportive: “Okay, then let’s find a doctor. Let’s do this together.”
That commitment launched them into years of egg retrievals, failed transfers, a surgery to remove endometriosis, and the heavy blow of discovering they were both carriers of cystic fibrosis— a genetic reality that drastically cut their viable embryos. Each setback was another weight, another layer of grief before parenthood even began.
Oliver’s Story
Finally, one transfer worked. Sarah became pregnant with Oliver. The joy was palpable—yet the journey was anything but smooth. Early in the pregnancy she broke her knee, spending her first trimester on the couch, reading, resting, and bonding with the baby she already loved so much.
As autumn passed outside her window, she marked the time by the leaves: green when she began, golden when she could walk again. It was a sacred season of presence.
At 25 weeks, however, everything changed, and Sarah and her partner Dylan found themselves having to say goodbye to the little boy they had grown to love so much — their son.
“It was the hardest thing I have ever lived through,” Sarah said quietly. “I had never lost someone like this before. Grief gave me unexpected gifts— compassion, perspective, and a deeper love that I never thought possible.”
The Spiritual Gifts of Grief
After Oliver’s death, Sarah entered a period of deep spiritual exploration. She worked with grief counselors, healers, and mediums, searching for ways to stay connected to her son.
“I truly feel like Oliver is still with me,” she explained. “He parented me through my loss, and in many ways, he still parents me today.”
This sense of his presence became her anchor. It gave her hope to try again, even when the physical and emotional demands of IVF felt unbearable.
The Twins: Fear and Faith
A year later, Sarah and Dylan transferred their final two embryos— more out of exhaustion than optimism. They were stunned to learn that both had implanted. She was pregnant with twins.
Joy quickly mingled with fear. Pregnancy after loss is already filled with anxiety, and carrying twins only doubled the stakes. Every milestone was both a relief and a reminder of what had been lost.
“I just kept telling myself, ‘Oliver will get them here,’” Sarah said. “It might not have been logical, but it gave me peace.”
At 32 weeks and five days, her daughters arrived early after a whirlwind labor. They spent a month in the NICU, learning to breathe, eat, and grow. For Sarah, this time was not marked by fear— it was gratitude. “They’re here. That’s all that matters.”
Motherhood After Loss
Motherhood has been both healing and humbling. Sarah spoke about the guilt of her daughters’ early arrival, the constant “what ifs” that linger after loss, and the complicated balance of grieving Oliver while celebrating the twins.
She also reflected on her lifelong disability—living with one arm—and the insecurities she carried into motherhood. Would she be able to manage diapers, bottles, car seats, and the demands of twins? Over time, she’s found her rhythm. Each day proves that love adapts, and resilience grows.
Keeping Oliver’s Memory Alive
Oliver remains present in their family. His handprint hangs in the twins’ nursery. His ashes sit beside Sarah’s bed. His spirit, she believes, is interwoven into their daily lives.
“I don’t always say out loud that I’m a mom of three, but I feel it in my bones. Oliver is still with me.”
She knows that someday, her daughters will be old enough to hear about their brother, and she plans to share his story in a way that is tender and age-appropriate. For now, Oliver’s memory is a quiet, sacred thread running through their family life.
The Gifts of Grief and Love
Toward the end of our conversation, Sarah asked me a question that lingered in my heart: “Do you ever miss your grief?”
It’s a profound reflection many loss parents understand. Grief, though heavy, is also a deep connection to love. Sometimes, in the rawness of those early days, we feel our babies most closely. And when time softens that intensity, part of us aches for the closeness it brought.
Sarah’s story is a reminder that grief isn’t something to “get over.” It’s something we learn to carry. It reshapes us, gifts us with compassion, and roots us in love that never fades.
Why Sarah’s Story Matters
This conversation is for every parent who has felt broken by loss, every woman walking the hard road of infertility, and every mother holding both grief and joy.
Sarah’s vulnerability reminds us:
Our babies are never forgotten.
Love and grief can coexist.
Even after loss, joy can still return.
Listen to the full episode:
“Oliver Will Get Them Here” — IVF, Loss, and the Journey to Mothering Twins
Now streaming on Apple, Spotify, and YouTube. Click here for the links to listen
🕊 Oliver, this one is for you.
