Rewind to December 2009. My wife was 11 weeks pregnant, and I was going to be a dad for the first time. In June of 2010 (ironically, the due date was a day before Father’s Day) I was going to meet the baby boy or girl that I was already completely in love with…and then my world came crashing down.
Three days prior to Christmas 2009 and 11 weeks into the pregnancy, my wife and I lost our baby. I understand that bad things can happen during the first trimester, but that didn’t ease our devastation. I put on a brave face for my wife by saying everything will be okay, and I told my inner circle that we’ll dust ourselves off and try again – but privately I was a mess.
I didn’t eat, I lost a lot of weight, and spent a lot of my private moments in tears. I knew I had to move forward, but I didn’t know how. I would hear stories of deadbeat dads, lazy dads, and dads who frankly don’t give a shit – and I would become enraged. How in the world could someone father a child and not want to be involved in their lives? I’d give up anything to raise a baby.