Two years ago today we lost our third pregnancy.

The events that followed were some of the most challenging of my life. Here is the email from the day after:

Family,

I have some bad news. Last night Julianne went into the hospital with severe abdominal pain and had an emergency laparoscopy surgery to remove an ectopic pregnancy.

Julianne is doing fine and resting as of 3AM and will make a full recovery. She should be released tomorrow at noon.

Our 6 week old baby never had a chance for survival, as it was implanted outside the uterus. There was hemorrhaging at the implant site at the top of her uterus and Julianne was losing blood into her abdomen, causing the pain. The doctor was able to repair the damage and was amazed as he had never seen that before, and never heard of it happening that way. The nurses were even commenting on how much “swimming” had to be done for this to happen, and jokingly blamed me. The good news is that my wife will be fine fine and that we did not have a tubal pregnancy.

We and the kids are doing well all things considered, and although we mourn the loss of the promise of new life, we are thankful that God had everything worked out so that we can try again.

“Try again” – how funny.

Those were desperate words from a disconnected man as the impact of the day had not settled into me yet.

A few months later my life started crashing down and I took a sabbatical to try and find myself again. The truth, I was devestated at the loss of our pregnancy and my facade had started to crack. The circumstances of it all just made no sense to me. I was angry at myself, I was angry at God for giving me hope after ten years of waiting only to have it ripped away like that. How could He! I had no answers, only questions.

For the first time in my life I felt what it was like to be helpless, completely helpless, without an answer. Walking the shores of the James River that summer a song rose up within me.

Anna’s Song: 2006

Verse 1:
Don’t cry for me daddy, cuz I’m okay.
Don’t waste another minute over yesterday
And I’m up here in heaven, with something to say

Chorus:
Don’t give up your hope
Don’t you run away
Just hold on to Jesus
So you can hold me
Hold me, someday.

Verse 2:
I know the plans you were making, died with me that day
I couldn’t believe your faith and hope, just up and went away
I know the man you used to be, and I need him more today

Verse 3:
There is so much more here, than you realize
And even though you miss me, time will dry your eyes
Every time you think of me, remember what I say

“Try again” had given way to hopelessness and it was the start of the darkest summer of my life. The song is sobering to me today – it shows me how close to giving up on God I really was.

So here I am on February fourteenth all over again, reflecting on the last two years.

I sit here today with a restored hope in my God, a restored hope in myself, and a new baby growing in the right place. This February fourteenth, I find myself seeing the substance of things hoped for materializing right before my eyes with the assuring that God is good.

I still think about our little girl He showed Julie in a dream. I would have liked to see that, laughing and playing in the mid-day sun with her mother, but I have a good imagination. I still wonder what she would be like when I look into the eyes of her sister. I get emotional sometimes when I see little girls her age, but not as much as I used to. I guess I still miss the promise of her. I have been wounded deeply and I know the scar will never go away.

I am content to have the scar.

Because of it I cry more, I love deeper, I slow down, I treat people better, and I trust.

Because of it I have become broken.

Being broken is the best thing that could have ever happened to me.