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Not getting pregnant sucks.

I guess I have to live with that crapiness forever, seeing as I am a guy and thus not able to bear children, but being married to someone that has struggled with infertility, I can at least appreciate how much that sucks.  Erin and I tried for 18 months before Abby was finally conceived, and I don’t think I took a deep breath once until she finally made her way out into the world.

Some very dear friends of ours went through the same thing, at the same time no less, but their journey was much longer and more fraught with difficulty.  To top it off, they were the two people in the whole world that would make the best parents.  I mean that.  It was like some kind of terrible irony that for years they could not get pregnant.

I ached for them.  Knowing at least a little of what it felt like to go month after month, year after year, and not having those little hands to hold, not feeling that tiny heartbeat, not having that weight on your chest as your baby sleeps; there aren’t words that offer any form of comfort to that kind of emptiness.

Last week I had a chance to meet Elianna, their daughter, a healthy, beautiful bundle that was the answer to a thousand prayers and the deepest longings of her mommy and daddy’s hearts.

“Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven.”

Henry Ward Beecher

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