Pregnancy Loss from a father’s perspective

Back in April, I was honored to have my article on a pregnancy loss posted by the Washington Post online  You can see the full article here and I have reposted it below for you to read.  I truly hope you are able to get something from it!


In the summer of 2011, my wife and I were overjoyed to learn that not only were we pregnant (well, she was pregnant), but we were having twins! And not just twins, but TWIN BOYS.

I’ll admit that as a man, I felt that my ability to make more men somehow made me more manly. This was our first chance at being parents, and I thought I was owed a parade.

Two boys would be a blessing, and the idea that I would some day be able to boast about my 6’8” boys being drafted first and second into the NBA gave me an epic ego boost.

Then around the 15th week of pregnancy, the obstetrician told us there was an issue that would require a small cervical stitch to prevent the boys from being born prematurely. She got through the procedure like the champ she is and we went back home, but she would need increased bed rest.

November 22, 2011. 11-22-11. I remember the date because it is filled with so many double numbers, like God wanted to make sure I had an easy way to remember it.

A few days before that, my wife and I went in for an anatomy scan and we received dire news. The stitch was not holding. She was already dilating, experiencing extreme labor pains which would cause her water break soon. It was becoming evident that she would give birth in a few days. Her OB scheduled surgery to remove the stitch. Because the boys would be coming into the world at just 19 weeks old, they would not be developed enough to sustain life outside the womb.

After surgery, my wife’s water broke while we were at the hospital, and then we waited. Once my first boy was delivered, the OB asked if I wanted to see him. I reluctantly replied yes, and the minute I saw his tightly closed eyes and motionless body, I cried like never before. I didn’t think I had that many tears in me. I remember my wife not crying at all because I think in that moment she wanted me to be able to lean on her immense strength and courage. She gently patted my head to console me, while my parents remained stoic, but their eyes were welling up, too.

Our second son emerged, and while I was still distraught, I kept my bawling to a minimum. The nurses placed the boys in separate bassinets and allowed us to have some time with them before they would be taken away. I remember looking at the twins with my parents, trying to figure out who they resembled. My mom said one relative. My dad played the contrarian and said someone else. In this tragic moment, it was nice to have a bit of levity.

A lot of the rest of the evening is a blur. My parents went back to New Jersey, my mother-in-law stayed at our house overnight, and my wife had to stay overnight for observation.

I remember driving home with my mother-in-law and her asking if I needed anything before going to bed. I told her I was fine, I hopped into bed, where I proceeded to cry even more.

I questioned myself: Why was I not able to make two healthy boys?

I questioned my wife: Why didn’t she put up her feet more and focus on bed rest?

I questioned God: Why is this happening to me even though I am good man, a good husband and a good son?

It wasn’t until I heard from many of my friends who are fathers that I discovered they had had similar experiences. Some at 10 weeks, some closer to 15 or 20.

My wife and I were not outliers on an island of parents, or some exception to the “having kids is easy” rule we had created in our minds. I realized it’s called the miracle of life for a reason. The fact that any of us make it from conception to birth, when there are any number of forces that can keep us from existing, is indeed a miracle. And, as taboo as I thought the word “miscarriage” was (I never even wanted to say the word out loud for fear that I was going to somehow jinx the pregnancy), loss of this kinds happens in many pregnancies.

My wife’s grandmother said in a very sweet but straightforward way: “Maybe those two boys were going to be rascals, and God wanted to spare you the pain of raising them. He knows what you can handle and maybe you were not ready for this burden. He has great things planned for you.” That gave me a chuckle and still does to this day.

Fast forward to April 2013, and my wife and I were blessed with a healthy baby boy. After he was born, I would sometimes wonder what it might have been like to have three boys at one time. Would I be happy with three healthy children, destined to be the first set of three siblings playing in the NBA at one time? Or would I be asking my wife for kid number four in hopes of a little girl I could spoil? Fortunately, God quickly answered in September 2015, when we were blessed with another set of twins, one boy and one girl. I knew when holding them both at the hospital that not everyone has a second chance at having another child, much less twins, and I try to make sure to love all of my children double so they will never have any doubt how much they are treasured.

So, to Lance and Samuel, my twin boys so eager to enter the world that they came out at 19 weeks, know that you are loved, you are not forgotten, and your parents’ short experience with you made us into the parents we are today. Your story will be told to all three children many years from now. And hopefully, many, many, many years from now, when my time on earth is up, we can play of game of catch in the big baseball field in the sky. Or basketball. Or My Little Pony. But can we skip “Caillou”? I’ve become a “Paw Patrol” guy myself. Love, Dad.

5 toy Lines begging for a relaunch


With the impending end/re-start/buyout/liquidation/tbd of Toys R US coming/not coming soon, I got a bit misty-eyed thinking about some of the toys of my youth I wish I could see again in the toy aisle.  Here are a few I would love to see relaunched someday. Hard to know what what the future of toys will be (I hope it is not all online), but one can dream right?

Five Toys Just Begging For A Relaunch!


An open letter to BLACK PANTHER

My 5 year old son loves superheroes like most kids his age.  He is big fan of the Avengers, but I have to admit that Batman is his favorite.   As much as he likes them, he does not like seeing them in the movie theatre.  I think the prospect of a very dark room combined with very loud explosion is not very attractive to him yet.  Also, his attention span does not allow for home to really sit thru 2 hour movie before he gets bored or needs a bathroom break (he ‘s not the only one).

So, it took me by total surprise when he said to me this week:”Why haven’t you taken me to see Black Panther?”  He has seen ads for nearly every superhero and animated movie you can imagine, and this question has NEVER come up.  EVER.  He never even asked to see “Cars 3”, and he loves him some Lightning McQueen!

I personally think that seeing commercials for an action-filled adventure full of characters that have the same skin color as him really resonated, even if he didn’t know it consciously.  Don’t get me wrong, he has absolutely no problem playing dress up as Iron Man from the Avengers or Catboy from PJ Masks.  But, for the first time, I believe he could really see himself as THE superhero.

HE could be Black Panther.

HE could be the one to save the day.

HE can do cool flips off of the roofs of cars and rule a kingdom.

So, with that in mind, I would like to do my best Oscar Award-type acceptance speech, and say a few thank yous…

Thank you to Marvel for boldly making this movie and creating a vision on-screen so captivating that the commercials alone encouraged my wife to get a babysitter so we could see it as a couple (she LOVED it by the way!)

Thank you to the cast and crew for creating such an amazing-looking world and filling it with equally amazing technology, costumes, and effects while staying true to the African roots of the source material.

Thank you to the casting director for getting the national treasures known as Angela Bassett and Forest Whittaker into the Marvel Universe as well as a 91 year old woman making her first feature film appearance

Thank you to Disney for putting $1 million towards the Boys and Girls Club STEM center in Oakland, California with more cities to come including Baltimore, Chicago, Harlem, Hartford, Memphis, New Orleans, Orlando, Philadelphia, Washington, DC, and Watts.

Thank you to STAN LEE and JACK “KING” KIRBY for creating a black superhero in a time period when strong black heroes we few and far between.

Thank you to the woman in our theatre who yelled out loud with joy when (SPOILER ALERT) T’Challa was found alive, but very very cold in that bed of snow.  Clearly she had not seen a Marvel movie before because pretty much everyone in the theater knew getting thrown of that waterfall was not gonna kill him since he is the star, but to hear that kind of childlike innocence and sense of surprise from an adult gave me goose bumps.

Thank you to Martin, Malcolm and the many many others who fought for our freedoms and rights.  They are a reason a movie like this could happen.  Hopefully it is only the beginning of a trend in Hollywood.

Thank you to the world for putting Black Panther in the Billion dollar club.

Thank you  Michael B Jordan, Chadwick Boseman, and the many other black men in the movie for making want to get into better shape (Jury is still out on that happening or not)

And thank you to….(uh-oh, the music is playing so I have to stop now)

If you are wondering what happen with my son, I offered to take him out see it ASAP, but apparently he still does not like movie theatres, even with the lure of unlimited Sour Patch Kids and popcorn, so we will have to wait for the DVD or On Demand.

Maybe he will be ready for the theatre experience by the time the sequel comes out.


A small gesture goes a long way….

This entry will be pretty short.   Not because I don’t have much to say, but mainly because I think I can say what I need to say without saying a lot.  Know what I’m saying?

We are 2 weeks removed from Valentine’s Day, which for many people around the country and the world put people thru a variety of emotions.  For some, there was anxiety about forgetting to make plans with your better half or buy flowers and/or chocolate.  For many others, there was a sense of mourning surrounding yes another awful tragedy that was unfolding, this time at a high school in Florida.  And for some, it was just another Wednesday.

Now, if you think I am going to go in to a big story about how my wife surprised me with a V-Day dinner date without the kids because she had hired a babysitter and we were going to get 3 kid-free hours to enjoy each other’s company without a trio of under 5-year-olds interrupting our ever word, prepare to be disappointed (although this did all happen and I am forever thankful my wife pulled of this feat)

And if you think I will follow up this story with an equally engaging tale of about a group of valet parking attendants who had lost track of the keys and to whom they belonged and were literally pulling up in random cars, shouting out car models in hopes that one of the 30 people waiting for their cars in the cold was the owner of said car…I am not (but this also happened)

What I found most interesting about the evening was my 2 minute walk from the car to the house.  Since the valet parking debacle made us 20 minutes late getting home to relieve our babysitter, I dropped my wife off at our front door rather than have her search for parking with me so our sitter could get paid and then get home as quickly as possible.  I circled my block a few times, but it was late and most people had settled in for the night, so there were no open spaces.  After about 10 minutes, I managed to snag a spot right next to the gas station that is only a short walk from our apartment building’s front door.  I pass thru this gas station twice a day with all 3 of my kids on the way to school.  It is well lit up all night, so it adds a great sense of security overnight and I quickly parked the minivan.

As I left the car, locked it up and made sure to push in my side view mirror (I won’t make that mistake again) .  I crossed thru the gas station and who was still there?  A young man who had set up a table a few days earlier to sell Valentine’s Day gifts .  You know those folks  you see setting up shop 2 or 3 days before Valentine’s Day with a fold up table, lots of single roses, bouquets and overpriced teddy bears for those men and women who liked the luxury of gassing up their vehicles and not going home empty handed.  He was pretty low on products, which was good Considering Valentine’s Day was nearly over.  He only had a few single roses and some heart shaped balloons left.  I had seen him every day since he started selling his heart shaped merchandise in front on the gas station the weekend before V-Day, since I had to pass him to bring my older son to school with the twins right there along for the ride.

Little did I know that he had seen me.

As I said “Hey!” to him while he sat in his chair probably hoping to sell the last of his Valentines Day loot and be on his way, he said “Hey!” back and then grabbed a rose and ran up to me and said, “This is for you”.  But before I could respond, I must had had a look of bewilderment on my face at being handed a rose because he quickly said “I see you everyday out here pushing those 3 kids back and forth to school man, so this for you”.  I thanked him a few more times, and went on my way.

I was honesty choked up from the encounter because he sees 100’s of people daily, so I was genuinely surprised he recognized me without the kids in tow!  But his generosity in that moment was just a really great gesture we don’t see enough of these days.  It was his very simple way of saying “You are doing a good job as a dad”, and to have that come from someone you don’t even know is paying attention to you can really go a long way.

So, if there is someone out there you think deserves an “Atta boy” or just a smile of acknowledgement, share it with them.  It could go a long way.  And probably help you forget the Valet Parking debacle you managed to escape from with your actual vehicle and not the BMW you tried to claim as yours.

P.S. Writing less than 1000 words is keeping it short for me, so I win.  J

Enlisting Help from Siblings (cause you need it!)

Not everyone who has multiples has help like I do.  No, I don’t mean my wife who of course is as helpful and loving as they come.  I am referring to my older son who will turn 5 this April.  His help with the the 2 years old twin tots has been essential in keeping them safe, happy and sometimes even fed!  I was able to write an article on this for the FATHERS OF MULTIPLES site so please take a look if you are looking for some advice on how to get those siblings to really chip in.

Operation Newborns- Getting Help From Siblings

The Day My Twin Stroller Died (and I almost cried)


It started out as an ordinary day in my life as a stay at home dad. Most mornings , my wife helps me get all 3 kids ready for the walk to school , where our firstborn is in pre-K. It’s about a 13 minute walk from our apartment (I can do it in 8).   After she leaves, I pack up the twins in our  5 year old, reliable, City Mini double stroller (it was a hand me down from a friend with twin boys). I make sure to grab cups of milk for the road, bundle up Justin, and head out for the walk. Sometimes, it is a harrowing journey depending on how the weather decides to treat us.

However, today, wifey takes Justin to school on her own and this spares me the journey. I was thankful to be able to stay in my pajamas for a few hours more until launching into the afternoon ritual of walking to pickup our son from school with the twins in tow.

But not today.

Shortly after I had masterfully put the twins to sleep using our  “Superman !” routine,  I checked my Phone and saw a text from my wife.  The school nurse has called her to say that Justin had thrown up at lunch, needed new pants, and must be picked up.  Oh dear.

Initially I was fearful that he was really ill since the  flu has been an epidemic this winter season.  Then, I was selfishly annoyed that I was a going to have to pack up to half sleeping kids into winter gear and take them with me to get Justin at least 2 hours earlier than I had planned.

Nevertheless, I went into hyper focus mode and proceeded to get myself dressed, grab the twins coats and socks and shoes, dress them while they were half asleep with all the stability of a bowls of jello, place them in our old reliable CityMini double  and we were out the door in record time(, if people kept records of uninteresting times that is).

I was accustomed to  taking this trip  every day early in the morning and late in the afternoon  since Justin started UPK.  I would see the same faces; adults bringing kids to school, local workers at the gas station always greeting us and neighbors on their way to work.

But I noticed that this was was different; it was the middle of the day, kids were already in school, most adults had arrived at their jobs already.   The streets were very empty, like a ghost town.

That’s when the wobbling started.  It did not strike me as odd since the stroller was sometimes shaky and the sidewalks are not level in all places.

Then I heard a cracking noise.

I stopped pushing the Stroller and looked down at two wheels that looked oddly familiar.  They were the same as the City Mini wheels.    That seemed odd.  The twins were still asleep and the concrete was cold, but not covered in snow, so I put on the safety brake to keep the stroller from moving and I stooped really low for a closer inspection.

Lo and behold, 2 of the 4 wheels had popped off, so my City Mini was down to 6 wheels.

I felt about 50 emotions in less than 10 seconds.

Anger.  Why is this happening now?  I have to get my sick son and now I have to deal with this?

Frustration.  This day has already been a mess, this makes everything much worse.

Fear.  How the heck am I gonna make it to my sons school on 6 wheels and back home?  What do I do if the other wheels fall off?  Carry the stroller on my back like ATLAS carrying the earth? Why are the streets so empty with no one to lend me a hand or ask if I need assistance?

Sadness.  This was the one emotion I didn’t expect expect to feel in this moment.  I was sad,   not just because the wheels falling off meant paying big bucks for a replacement, but because the wheels falling off meant that this trip to pick up my sick son would likely be the last time I could use the city mini again.

We had been through so many adventures, Trips to Vermont, trips to the Intrepid and so many more that would never happen.

After fiddling with the wheel and realizing the issue was beyond my limited mechanical skills, I took off the breaks, put the two broken wheels in the back pocket of the stroller, and took off up the block wheelbarrow style to continue my journey.

I arrived my son’s school 3 minutes later and after scaling the steps with the twins still asleep in the stroller because I was too stubborn go around the corner to use the wheelchair entrance, I pressed the buzzer to let the office know I had arrived to pick up my son.

Minutes later, they brought him downstairs in a pair of shorts I am pretty sure where not his because I had forgotten to put replacement clothes in his backpack for occasions just like this.  He did not look ill, but said he had fish sticks.  I am guessing they just did not agree with him because he ate like a horse the rest of the day without any issues.

Luckily, the walk home was much less eventful and the rest of the wheels stayed on the City Mini, with twins still fast asleep in their makeshift wheelbarrow stroller. Seeing the two wheels in the back pouch, my son asked question after question about what happened to the stroller. The  City Mini is still at its usual spot in our home.  For some reason, I did not have the heart to put it out that Friday night so it would be taken on the garbage truck Saturday morning.  It had been with us through so many good times  (and another family too). I did not want to rush to trash it quite yet.  It deserves (it’s still there) a few more days before being recycled, hopefully into a new deluxe city mini to be used by another family.

Sofia eventually woke up but was still sleepy so I put her on the couch with a blanket and, while Justin and I were playing in the bedroom, Jackson still slept in the stroller.  He slept until he woke up and half asleep tried to exit an imbalanced stroller.  Luckily the stroller is low to the ground. Justin and I heard a crash and rushed to the living room to find Jackson on the floor with a look on his face as if to say “What on earth did I miss?”   If you only knew, buddy.

Maybe I will read this story to him in a few years to get a good laugh.