Circa October 2017 I had an extremely vivid dream of standing on a rooftop somehwhere I’ve never been with my wife Angela. In the dream, she looked at me straight in the eyes and said the words “I’m pregnant”. I woke up shortly after, and pretty much forgot the whole dream as the alarm sounded and we were off with our day. A few days later I remembered the vivid dream and told Angela. Fast forward to November 2nd, 2017 when my wife and I took our very first pregnancy test. I told myself I wouldn’t cry when I found out – but the joy and excitement of knowing I was to be a dad was too overwhelming.

After a few short weeks of excitement and planning, we were faced with the hardest trial of our lives. The “Storm” the Bible talks about became reality as every parents fear of losing their child became painstakingly real. We miscarried our first child Nov. 18th, after spending a wonderful and unforgettable 6 weeks with our firstborn. She (or he) escaped from our grasp like a child releasing a balloon to the sky. Although Angela physically held our child in her womb, we know their life was, is, and always will be in our Lord and Saviors hands. We are still able to find joy in knowing where our child is, and who they are with. We have peace knowing we will meet her (or him) someday. And happiness to know our child will never know the pain of losing a loved one, or the pain of stubbing their toes, or any pain or struggle this world has to offer. They will only ever know the joy and love of our Father in heaven. But let me be clear, the peace and joy we have does not mean we don’t still have moments of tears and mourning to this day. I don’t believe our child should ever be something we are “move on from”.

You might see a tattoo on my arm of a balloon with a smiley face and smile back. But don’t overlook how close it is to my heart, and the pain I went through to have it there. The memory of our child is not something I want to forget, and neither is the joy and happiness that I have in knowing where my baby is.