I thought it might be time for a little update. 🙂
Many of you know that we completed our home study this week. Actually – it’s not done, but we are done with everything we have to do for it. Now it’s all in the hands of our amazing social workers who say they will be done writing it in late January to early February. However, our goal was to be done with everything we had to do before Christmas, so mission accomplished.
What did we have to do? We had to complete a boat load of paperwork. Lots of it. No joke. We had to get fingerprinted, mental health evaluations, and we all (even Abram) needed to get physicals.

Seth and I️ also had to attend three all day trainings. They were all very helpful albeit fairly overwhelming. However, after all of them – we continued to feel that this was what God was leading us to do. There has been a lot of that – rechecking ourselves to make sure this is what God wants for us, and we’re happy to say that yes – this really is it. Yes – there are moments of feeling overwhelmed, but doesn’t that just come with parenting in general? And we are grateful for these trainings because they have really educated us on what could happen. They are overwhelming because of course they focus on worst case scenarios, but better to be prepared than not. We have also had three meetings with our social workers. The last one was at our house for the official home tour. Everything went smoothly and was very relaxed, and it just feels really good to get it done!

We plugged away at everything and are glad to take a respite during the holidays. But after that – we have to get to work on getting everything ready for our Dossier to send to Thailand. Sad to say – the Home Study looks fairly simple in comparison. We hope to get everything ready for that by April. Once Thailand receives our Dossier, the wait time is generally 6-10 months to get matched to a child and then 3-5 months before we can take her home. So – yes we are excited to get done with this step, but we also realize that there is much more to do and many hurdles to cross before we know who she is and before we can officially welcome her into our family. Although – she is welcomed into our hearts and minds long before that.

Thank you so much for all of your prayers and questions. We love to talk about it because it keeps it real for us – not just a crazy abstract thing that will happen who knows when in the future.

In the meantime, we wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Hopefully many exciting and wonderful things will meet us in 2018!

When we started to think about adoption, I looked through my prayer journal, and this gave me chills.  I wrote the first one, (asking to have children biologically and through adoption).

And then this next entry was literally The. Next. Entry.

I had forgotten about this, but when I found it, I admit – I felt the Lord nudging me saying, “Remember this?  You prayed it, and I answered.  Time for you to finish your part.”  

I felt the nudges, but it still took a few months to fully commit.  However, when we did, I was so happy to write this….

I love looking back through old prayers and seeing how God has answered them – sometimes in unexpected ways.

I will be forever grateful for His answer to this specific prayer. 

Surprise!!!!!!
Maybe it’s not actually much of a surprise. Maybe you guessed it after the the first post. But to us, this felt like a huge surprise in our life.
Yes – I always thought adoption was something we might do. However, whenever we seriously pursued it in the past, both Seth and I didn’t feel the call to adopt. We didn’t know why. However, now we know that God was not saying “no.” He was simply saying “not right now.”
So what was the mysterious thing that happened after the last doctor’s appointment? The mysterious thing was that God changed both of our hearts at the exact same time.
The day after the appointment, I remember cleaning the house, and I started cleaning like a madwoman. Seth knew to stay out of my way, and I think maybe he actually thought I was mad at him. I wasn’t mad. I was just figuring out my feelings because everything was rushing at me all at once. I felt it. God was turning my heart around, and it wasn’t scaring me. I was getting so, so excited. I wanted it. I wanted to adopt. And I was trying to figure out what to say to Seth.
So finally I just said it. “I want to adopt. I want to adopt a little girl from South East Asia.”
“Yep, me too. Let’s do it,” he said.
WHAT?
To be honest, I thought this was going to be a lot longer conversation. I thought he would be open to the conversation, but would need time to really jump on board and get excited. But no. You see – God had been working in his heart, too. And while gender or geographical location weren’t things he was as set on, he was sure on his feelings on adoption. He wanted it.
We both wanted it. Really wanted it. At the same time. And that is a mysterious miracle that has no explanation other than closing the door on another biological child on our terms allowed us to happily and joyfully open the door to adoption. And no one could have orchestrated that better than God.
We left it there for a bit. We had a busy weekend coming up, and we didn’t have a chance to talk about it much. But we both kept thinking about it. And when things slowed down, and we had a chance to talk, we were still on the same page.
So after a lot of research, a lot of prayer, a lot of trust, and a lot of peace that comes when you know that you are following God’s will for you, (which really just makes you over-the-moon giddy with excitement) – we are officially on the adoption road.
To answer some of the questions you may have:
Where are we adopting from? We will be adopting a little girl (2-3 years old) from Thailand.
When will we get her? Hard to say, but the process takes about 2 – 3 years, so she may or may not be born yet.
Where are we in the process? We are currently in the middle of our Home Study. We are working with a Minnesota agency to get that done, and then we will work with Holt International to deal with all the international aspects with Thailand.
Why did we choose Thailand? There are so many reasons. Overall, as we looked at all the countries, this program just seemed like the best fit for us. One draw is that in this program, she will be placed in a foster home instead of an orphanage, so we are hoping that means she gets more loving care until we can get her.
How are we feeling? We are feeling so excited. Really, really excited. We always thought adoption should never be a consolation prize – never a second choice. And it’s not. This is our first choice now, and we’re so excited to get the 4th face of our family through adoption. You guys – we are so giddy about this.
We are also nervous. This will be an entire new way to parent with a whole slew of needs that we haven’t had to deal with with our son. However, we are confident that God is calling us to do this, and we are sure the rewards of adding this girl to our family will be great!
What have we told Abram? We told him he’s going to be a big brother, and he’s getting a little sister. We told him we will fly on an airplane to get her from Thailand, but that we are going to have to wait a long time – mom and dad are figuring it out. We pray for his little sister every day, and when we talk about her he says, “I’m so excited!” It’s still very abstract to him, and it’s a long way off, but we’re planting the seeds now, and it’s very sweet to hear him talk about her and pray for her. And he’s really excited to fly in a airplane in the nighttime. 🙂
What do we ask of you? Can you please cover our sweet daughter in prayer? It’s hard not having any control to what happens to her in her first few years of life. Please pray for her birth parents, her foster parents, and for her protection – both emotionally and physically. Please pray for us as we pursue her and as we prepare Abram for her. It’s funny but both Seth and I have said that we already feel her presence in our family. She has already carved out a section of our hearts and minds, and we think about her so much.
So there you have it. You have read the part of our story that is already written, and now we boldly step forward into the unwritten part. We still have no idea what will happen, but as we look back on everything – the Author of our story has been and will always be in control. And we’ll keep trusting our rising action.
**I’ll post updates on here from time to time (when there is something to update). Thank you to all of you who have taken time to read our story. It’s been an interesting process, and I have appreciated the support that so many of you sent our way.

Life with our son was a dream. Life changed a lot – but it was all good changes, and we welcomed them all. Many people asked me if I found the adjustment difficult. And honestly I really didn’t. I think that was one of the effects of waiting so long for a child. By the time he came, we had so much room in our hearts and minds for him, that any changes we made didn’t seem like a big deal. The biggest change was that I eventually quit by job. That was a hard change. Or rather – it was a hard decision to make, but once it was made – that was easy, too.  
But then we got to some not easy things again. Soon after our son was born, we felt that there was another face that was supposed to be in our family. He was supposed to have a sibling. Once he was about 1 1/2 years old, we thought maybe we should start trying. We were hopeful. After all – things turned out so well with our son, right? We did get pregnant again – quite easily. And for a minute, I thought maybe we were all done. If I could ride out those nine months – we would have it. We would have our family.
But soon after finding out that we were pregnant, I knew something wasn’t right. I wasn’t feeling it. Anything. I got so sick with our son, and I wasn’t feeling any nausea at all this time. I know every pregnancy is different, and I tried to encourage myself that way. However, deep down I knew that this one wasn’t gong to work. I went around for two weeks waiting for the worst to happen. I was a nervous wreck. I knew I was going to miscarry again – it was just a matter of time.  
I was right.
This experience was so different because of the different reactions Seth and I had. For me – once it happened – I was almost relieved. I knew it would happen, so once it did, I could move forward. Yes – I was sad, but nowhere near the desperation I felt before. The only reason for that was that we had our son. This miscarriage made me even more thankful for him and for the life we had now. Also – i just couldn’t go back to the dark place. I wouldn’t let myself.  
It was harder for Seth. He had to grieve.  
Watching him grieve was the hardest part of it for me. You never want your spouse, the person you love the most, to be sad. I knew he would be ok. He knew he would be ok, too. We both just needed to give him time to work through it. And when he was through the worst of it, I let myself grieve, too.
My grief came some time later, though. It was when I really realized that we probably weren’t going to have anymore children. Things were not happening (despite one more last-hope surgery I had – surgery #4), and I was slowly realizing that I didn’t have a lot of fight left in me. I couldn’t and didn’t want to do it anymore. We went to the doctor one more time to see what our options were. The doctor laid out some possibilities and talked through things, but everything in me said, “No. Way.”
I was done. I was done with the medicines, with the surgeries, and the procedures. I was done going through the emotional journey of trying to get pregnant, and – to be honest – and didn’t think I could emotionally go through another pregnancy after the last miscarriage. We left the doctors office, and I cried the entire way home.
But these were different kinds of tears. Yes – I was sad that I was officially closing the door on this. However, there was such a relief with the certainty of knowing I was done. On the fertility journey – there is always one more thing you can do – one more thing you can try. I was always up for it because well – what if it worked? However, this time I was sure. No. That’s it. We’re done.
I was so relieved and so appreciative that Seth agreed with me. And the weight of pressure left me. We closed the chapter on this, and we were 100% at peace with the decision.
But the story is not done yet.  
In fact – the day after this appointment something big happened.  
Something mysterious.
Something that now makes so much sense.
For now I’ll just say, God changed our hearts.

You came quickly, my sweet son. It’s funny to say that because we waited so long for you, but your delivery into the world was smooth and simple. I remember telling your dad – in the midst of it – that I thought delivery was suppose to be harder. It should be harder. What was wrong that this was going so well? I wasn’t used to things going smoothly and that – more than anything (even the contractions) – made me uncomfortable. Your dad looked at me and said, “maybe it’s time for something to be easy.”
I exhaled. The tears came. And I thought of the long journey to you.
It wasn’t easy.
But as they laid you on my chest and as you started to burrow your way under my chin, I knew that you were worth everything. You were worth every tear, every heart ache, and every doubt along the way.
And oh my son – life with you has been so easy.
You fit into our hearts and lives so perfectly that even when things have been hard (everything from newborn sleepless nights to your two-year-old temper tantrums), things have still felt easy.
Because you’re here. And you’re real. (And honestly – you have been a pretty easy kid, too). 😉
I remember in your first few months – all your dad and I wanted to do was stare at you, and as we stared at you – I felt the pieces of my heart fall back into place. My heart had been broken for a while. I don’t think I even realized how much. But being your mom has made me strong again.
Sometimes I wonder who I would be if you never came. Would my heart still have healed? I don’t know the answer to that question, and luckily I don’t need to know. Because God always knew that you were coming. You were always part of the plan. And as we looked at all the events that led to you, you were the exact person at the exact time that God had planned for us. So I never have to wonder what if because there are no ifs.
There was always you.
So please know. As you grow up and face hard times in your life (because you will), please know that God – who designed you and your timing into the world so perfectly – will always love you, never abandon you, and will continue to guide your life in a way that may seem mysterious, but even if unseen in the moment, is always filled with purpose.
And we – your parents – will love you forever.

So you can imagine how fun it was to surprise people and tell them we were pregnant. It. Was. So. Fun. I felt like for years – we had been the bearer of bad news – and now we had wonderful, amazing news to share.
We couldn’t keep it secret long. Seth and I left two days after we found out we were pregnant to join my entire family in Ireland. My family would know something was up if we toured the Guinness Factory and I didn’t imbibe, so rather than try to keep it under wraps, we told them right away.
To put it plainly – they were so excited. I was so happy to give them this good news, but it also brought me deep, deep panic. I was so scared to see them happy because what if it went away again? What if I miscarried again? I was trying to keep my happiness in check – and it made me nervous to see them jump in the happy pool right away.  
With every person we told, I felt that panic and anxiety set in deeper and deeper.  
Anxiety. This is something that grew so much for me throughout the infertility journey, and pregnancy seemed to exacerbate it. I was so happy to be pregnant, but I was so scared to lose it, that I found it hard to just enjoy it.  
Anxiety is a common theme for people who go through this journey. I read in a Harvard Study* that, “women with infertility felt as anxious or depressed as those diagnosed with cancer, hypertension, or recovering from a heart attack.” Reading that made me feel validated. I don’t know if I totally believe it yet. I hope I never have to compare it to cancer or a heart attack, and part of me wants to argue that the major difference between these things is that infertility won’t kill you. However, infertility does kill dreams or hopes for your future. You go through a similar amount of appointments, invasive procedures, and possibly multiple surgeries. Also – it’s difficult to hide that you have cancer. People can hide infertility and unfortunately may go through it with much less support. (This ties into the second theme that comes up – isolation – but I’ll touch on that more later.) So while I don’t know if I totally believe this comparison (I never had to go through chemo) – it did let me feel like my feelings were real. In the midst of it, I would often tell myself to just not be sad because I had been blessed with so many things. What right did I have to be sad? Yes – We were blessed. But we had also gone through some legitimately hard things. We had gone through a very difficult four years, and my new-found anxiety was a battle scar of the experience.
I think being pregnant is an anxious time for anyone, but being pregnant after a miscarriage is terrifying. I was constantly reading my body – looking for signs that things were’t right. Was that a weird twinge? Was that a cramp? It was exhausting. I would try to relax, but you just can’t take a vacation from being in your own body. Fortunately (or unfortunately) – God gave me many assurances that this pregnancy was different. I got So. Sick. Puking 10-12 times a day is a pretty good assurance that you’re still pregnant. If I only puked 5 times a day – I worried that something was wrong. But don’t worry – the next day would be up to 12.  
I got on some medicine and rolled into the next trimester. Then I started showing, and I started feeling him kick. And I finally started to believe it. Actually believe it.

He was coming.

* https://www.health.harvard.edu/newsletter_article/The-psychological-impact-of-infertility-and-its-treatment

I started to feel funny.  
I started to feel hungry and not-hungry at the same time.
I started to have some weird heartburn.
These feelings felt familiar. These were all symptoms I had previously before the miscarriage.  
No. Don’t be crazy, Maygann. It’s nothing.
I started to have to go to the bathroom all the time.  
I looked at the calendar – two days late. Ok. That doesn’t really mean anything – that has happened plenty of times and meant nothing. Stop it. Don’t think about it.
I had coffee with a friend and started crying for no reason.
It’s just the end of the year stress that I always feel. Geesh, Maygann – get a grip.
5 days late.  
I had convinced myself that something was wrong. Seth and I were going out of the country in 2 days, and I needed to start some medication, take some with me, and have the rest ready to go for when we returned, so we could do IVF when we got back. Starting the meds, much less permission to buy the meds, could only begin after my period started, so I was getting really worried that something else in my body was wrong and would mess up our plans to do IVF when we wanted. Because it couldn’t be the other thing. The pregnant thing. No. That’s impossible. Way more likely that my body is messed up again.  
June 11, 2014. It was about 8:30 at night. I was sitting on the porch with our dog, Lucy. I had finished my last meetings at school, and I was officially on summer break. Seth just got home from a meeting at church, and he joined me on the porch.
I started telling him what I have been feeling lately, and he listened. I could see the doctor side of his brain struggle with the human side of his brain as he said . . . “Well. . . Maybe it’s not something wrong. It could be something right.”  
We agreed we would sleep on it, and we would go get a pregnancy test in the morning if nothing changed. Seth had a lot of work to do that night, so we were just going to try and not think about it until morning.  
Seth tried to get work done. I tried to read a book. I noticed him just shaking his head, standing up, and saying – “Whatever, I’m not getting any work done. I’m going to run out and get you a test.” (Best. Husband. Ever.)
As he was gone, I tried to read my book again. But mostly I just stared at the ceiling fan spin around and around. And I could feel the hope start to flicker. And that scared me more than anything.
But then he came home. And I took the test. And it turned positive immediately.  
No. more. waiting.
And there lies one of the sweetest moments of my life. What was our reaction? Did we cry? Did we laugh? Did we stare at each other dumbfounded?  
Yes, yes, and yes.
We couldn’t believe it. We couldn’t believe that I was pregnant, and we couldn’t believe that God managed to surprise us. For the past four years – this was seemingly all we thought about. 3 surgeries, 1 miscarriage, countless procedures, thousands of dollars in medication and treatments, and the ONE month we weren’t thinking about it . . . Surprise!!!! Now, I realize this will sound really annoying to anyone going through infertility. When people would tell me stories about people who got pregnant right before IVF or right as they started adoption process, I got SO. ANNOYED. It makes it seem like all you have to do is make that one last ditch effort and voila! All your problems are solved. People would tell me these stories to encourage me, but I mostly just got frustrated because those stories had nothing to do with me. Someone else’s experiences had no bearing on what would happen to me.  
So I laughed. We laughed. We laughed and laughed and laughed that this is what happened to us.
And so while this was an amazing moment for us, I recognize that it may be hard for some of you to read. I get it. It’s hard when people we walk the infertility road with get pregnant, and we don’t. I have been there. Right after my miscarriage, two of my dear friends who also struggled with fertility got pregnant. While I was so happy for them, I was so, so, so sad to be left behind. I knew that they would still be there for me – that their support for me was unchanged. But still – everything was different because I was still on the road on my own. So – for those of you who are still struggling with this, I hope you’ll keep reading. Yes – the next few posts will have a bit of gushing in it about my son – and I’m not sorry about that. However, you’ll see soon that we still had some hard questions to answer, that God wasn’t done teaching us things, and it’s still been a struggle to figure out what His will is for us.
But for now. This moment. This was amazing moment. And we literally got down on our knees and thanked God.
The next day, I called the IVF clinic and said we were going to need our money back. 🙂 They happily refunded us.
*** One more thing to note, the week that I found out I was pregnant was the very week the baby I had miscarried was due. I stand in awe of that. I firmly believe that this was God assuring me that He loved me, he hadn’t abandoned me, and that He was in control. Of everything. ***

As I look back on these particular months of my life (April – June 2014), so many things happened that it’s hard for me to wrap my head around it, but I’ll try.
Yes, my body was healing from the surgery, but really – God was working on my mind and heart, too. I wasn’t necessarily asking Him to do this (I still was mostly just angry), but He did it anyways.
It began simply – with a quote from a book I was reading. It was a fluffy book (because that was all I could handle), cute, sweet, with a guaranteed happy ending. In the midst of the book, though, a main character is going through some struggles, and she gives herself a pep-talk saying,
“I have faith in my own rising action.”  
When I read it, I had to read it again. And again. And I just stared at the page and started crying. Because that’s what I needed. I had to have faith that there was purpose to all of this. There had to be a reason. It all had to be pointing to SOME.THING.  
I love that God used this quote, of all quotes, to start healing my heart. Doesn’t it just show how well He knows me? I’m a book-lover, English major, and a 12 year Language Arts teacher. If there is one thing I connect to, it’s the power of story. I can’t tell you how many lessons I taught on story-structure and how all the complications in the story point towards the climax – that’s there is purpose to all the struggle. 
And for the first time – I began to see my struggles in the same way. 
It wasn’t all better. But by believing that – by having faith in my rising action – I started to strengthen my faith that God was in control of it and also let me have faith that he hadn’t abandoned me – that He wasn’t simply giving me a big ol middle finger. I began to trust that even though the outcome may not be what we wanted, God was still doing His work in my life. So….thank you Rainbow Rowell and your delightful book, “Attachments” for helping me trust that there was purpose in my struggles and that my Author not only knew what He was doing, but He also loved me.
What else was happening during this time? We paid for another round of IVF (you pay in advance). The nurse also told me to call in May and she would let me know when to start birth control. Sounds strange, but the month before you do IVF, you have to go on birth control so that you body “zeros out.” I called in May, and she looked at the dates. She thought for a bit, and she said, “You know? We have some time, you could wait another month to start birth control if you want to, or you could start now if you want.”
“I guess I’ll wait a month,” I responded.
I think about that split-second decision a lot. That’s not normally me. I normally would have said, “No let’s start the medicine, so I’m sure that I’m squared away and ready to go – one less thing to worry about, right?”
Why did I say I would wait a month? There was no thought put into it. They were simply the words that came out of my mouth.  
But that split second decision changed my life.

And finally we could start to talk about what we wanted to do next. These were hard conversations. There were so many tears. So many worries and fears. Should we do IVF again, should we look at adoption, or should we throw in the towel and just stop trying?
Well – we didn’t feel like we could throw in the towel. We still felt like God had it in His plan for us to be parents, but figuring out how was so, so hard. How do you balance what you feel like God is calling you to do, but then any step you take to follow that plan has been disastrous?
For the first time – Seth and I had different ideas on what we wanted to do. He leaned towards IVF. I wanted to look into adoption.
So we compromised. We decided to visit our doctor again, and we went to an adoption seminar.  
Adoption.  
We had talked about it before. Before any of this started, I always assumed that we would adopt someday. By this point, though, I thought God was clearly telling us that this was what we should do, so we better investigate it. I thought as soon as we went into the seminar, God would get us excited and start pulling at our heartstrings.

But He didn’t.
We both went into it with an open mind, but during that meeting, we both had the same feeling that this wasn’t it. This wasn’t what we were supposed to do. Why?  
I don’t know. But it was such a strong feeling from both of us, that we had to pull back from that too.
Adoption shouldn’t be something you go into grudgingly. It shouldn’t be a consolation prize. You should be over that moon excited about it and want it. Really want it. You should have a compelling sense of calling.
And we didn’t.
We were surprised. We thought we must be terribly selfish people, and we felt guilty. But that didn’t change the fact that we did not feel God leading us down that path.
We went around and around about all the options. It was exhausting to keep reconsidering and still have no plan. What to do when there are no good answers? Seth’s approach was to create an algorithm and generate a flowchart (nerd).  
First step – repeat IVF
I was terrified to do it again – I would cry just thinking about it. It wasn’t so much the process I was scared of (although it’s no picnic), but I was so afraid of it going badly again. I didn’t think my heart, my brain, my anything could handle it not going well. But we decided once more to trust our gut that this was the path God wanted us to do.    
Before we officially could sign up, I needed to do a few more tests to make sure everything was ready to go again. And wouldn’t you know it? My body didn’t heal correctly from the miscarriage. I needed to have another blasted surgery. So – surgery #3 was scheduled to not only clear up the scar tissue from the miscarriage, but also to clear everything up again from the endometriosis.  
April 1st, 2014 – the day of the surgery – the surgery that changed everything.

Ok. I’m doing this too. We’ve done everything else together, so we’re in this blog thing together too. I (Seth) am interrupting your regularly scheduled blog release to add a few thoughts of my own.
First of all, I’m very proud of Maygann for doing this. It’s not easy do dive back into the memory of some dark days. I can feel it again deep in my guts (medical term) as we talk about it and remember. I can feel the thudding heart, lump in the throat, and incongruous numbness/anger/fear/despair. I’m proud of her courage and the impact she is already having on her readers.
Infertility and miscarriage is a lonely road full of both inadvertent and self-imposed isolation. Most of what you’ll find written or available for support is understandably directed toward women. Men are not stereotypically good at sharing their feelings and even worse at having a network of emotional support. I hope to offer a few words that may ring familiar to the other half of the equation.
One of many things that really sucks about infertility is that it never ends. It started to feel like the cycle of hope/disappointment/rationalization/try-again-while-not-really-hoping made up our whole history. For any other challenge in life, I felt I had some influence on the outcome. Not this. Any other situation, if you don’t win, you loose. Not this. There’s always another option, another month. It’s hard to know where to draw the line. That next chance might be the one. Everyone seems to have a hopeful story of someone who got pregnant after years of waiting. Maybe hopeful stories help some people. I found them an irritating reminder of the fact that it was more likely we would be one of the countless untold stories that did not end happily.
I loved Maygann so deeply it was hard to see her hurting so much. It was hard to hear her feeling responsible for something she had no control over. My reassurance to the contrary seemed to do so little – actually I think she just needed to hear it a million times. I was uncomfortable not being able to answer the constant question “Why?” The statistics and resources of my profession abandoned me. At work, I tried not to be bitter about being childless while treating kids sick from varying degrees of neglect or the young woman devastated at the positive pregnancy test in my office. As Maygann mentioned, even church was too hard at times. No one did anything wrong, but the focus on family and children made the weekend “break” exhausting too.
By the time things started getting tougher, we had been married about 10 years – not exactly novices at facing adversity and knowing how to comfort one another. I saw my role as being steady and unshakable. My own fears and hurts were to take a back seat to the needs of family. That only goes so far. I had a hard time trusting that it was ok to say when I was feeling hurt and overwhelmed. What if we both fell completely to pieces? The truth is, Maygann was always there and ready to handle it. So much for Superman. It is better, after all, to be vulnerable than invulnerable. 
The miscarriage hurt me deeply. I couldn’t even manage anger. Numbness and tears while we stared dumbly at each other with no answers. Existing in survival mode. I didn’t know if I could handle reaching out. I have some regrets about failing to try, but I never worked up the courage. So we relied on God and each other and waited some more.