Daniel Harrison

I am currently sitting on my couch/bed at the hospital listening to the latest release from Hillsong United while holding this little miracle.

To be perfectly honest, I had a hard time believing this day would come, until it actually did.

Last July Erin and I lost a baby through miscarriage. While this pregnancy has been nothing less than ordinary, the experience of losing a baby made it hard to believe that this day would come.

And yet, it did. Daniel Harrison Himes was born at 12:06 AM on May 27th. And I can’t imagine life without him.

Thank you Lord for this amazing miracle.



This weekend we learned that our little baby didn’t progress past week 8 because he (yes, he) had a disorder called Triploidy.

Triploidy occurs when a baby has 3 copies of each chromosone, instead of two, and is a lethal condition.

Thankfully this only occurs in 1 to 2% of pregancies and there is no increased risk of it occuring in future pregnancies.

Helpful to know.

Maybe it makes it a little easier in some ways.

Still sad.

Today is a good day

Today is a good day.

There have been a few particularly rough days recently.

In fact, most of the month of July has been a little rough. But, let me back up.

July 4th weekend was great.

Erin and I had a wonderful relaxing weekend with family. And, we shared that we were expecting child number two, which we had been keeping secret for quite a while.

And then, July 7th everything changed. We learned that our little baby had stopped developing around week 8.

It was week 11.

There was no heartbeat.

We wouldn’t get to meet our second child.

I hadn’t gone to the doctor with Erin that day, so the call I received that afternoon while at work was all the more difficult to handle. I should have been there. My wife needed comforting and I wasn’t there.

For some reason, Erin went back to work. And, I stayed at work.

Mostly I just felt numb. I’m not sure if I did anything more than just stare at my computer screen for the rest of the afternoon.

The week that followed was physically, mentally, and spiritually rough. And, while it has slowly been getting better since then, it hasn’t been easy.

How do you morn? More than that, how do you morn someone you weren’t ever able to meet?

In some ways, it seems there’s an added layer to the sadness in morning what could have been.

The worst part of it all, is that 3 weeks later I still don’t have any answers. I still don’t know what to think, say, feel, do. I still don’t know how I should act or react.

I’m not spending my evening drive in tears anymore, but should I be? I don’t know.

In some ways, I wish there was a manual for this. It would make it a lot easier.