The LORD gave... and gave... and gave.

"the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." - Job 1:21b

I have known these words my entire life. I've known them as the correct answer to pain and loss in life, but I've never even been close to a place where these words were appropriate. I've never known a situation of loss that wasn't somewhat expected or common-place. However, wisdom says to prepare for such things, and I knew the day would come when I would have to choose how to respond to a negative event in my own life.

It has taken me months to get to the point of writing this. Other than to immediate family, I don't think that the full story and the thoughts that went through our heads has ever been shared with people.
It's entirely possible that many of you don't even know that something happened to our little family at the beginning and middle of April.

On April 5th, Angela discovered and then surprised me with the knowledge that she was pregnant. We had a truly wonderful day; celebrating the joy of God's blessing in our lives.

It was a particular blessing for us, because there had been a good deal of anxiety and difficulty in our first conception. We had gotten to the point of consulting with specialists the first time, since we had been unable to get pregnant after a full year of trying. So, for God to grant that to us so quickly (when not really even trying) was simply an amazing blessing.
In our joy to tell everyone how wonderfully God had helped us, we were preparing to announce it to everyone on the 12th of April.

However, God had another plan for us.

April 11th had been a pretty busy day for us. We were with some good friends, looking at a possible dog for them, at the animal shelter by Cherrydale (the other side of town from home) when Angela began experiencing some abdominal pains. At first we thought it wasn't anything very serious, but thankfully we were together, so that I could drive Angela home. We contacted some friends of ours that were in the medical field and got some advice on what to do, and Angela laid down for a while.
After an hour in bed and with the pain continuing to be a problem, we made the decision to travel to the Hillcrest ER to get Angela checked out. We got there sometime around 6. Happily, Angela's parents were nearby and came to take care of Natalia while we were there, and Christine joined us. They ran blood work, and kept her reasonably comfortable, and we waited. After several hours of not much happening, Angela's pain suddenly increased dramatically. They told us that they were bringing their ultrasound technician in, since they don't have one in the hospital on the weekends (they had previously said that if we needed an ultrasound we'd have to go to Memorial). Around 10:30, Angela went in for an ultrasound to see what was going on.

While all of this was going on, everyone that had known about the pregnancy had gotten a text or a phone call, so that they could pray for us.

After a couple of minutes, while I paced in the entirely empty waiting area of the radiology department, we were told that Angela had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. We knew what that meant, and both of us descended into tears.
The radiology nurses took us back to our room in the ER, and the staff there came in to discuss the situation. The sympathy with which they dealt with us was very comforting.

Of course, they brought up the normal procedure for dealing with ectopic pregnancies.
For those who don't know, an ectopic pregnancy is when a fertilized egg implants in a place where it shouldn't be rather than the uterus. Usually, it implants in the Fallopian tube (93% of the time). In such cases, there is effectively no way to save the pregnancy. To do nothing in such a case will lead to a rupture that will kill the child and potentially harm the mother. That rupture had already happened to Angela.
The standard procedure, because of the fragility of the Fallopian tube and potential damage to the system is to take both the tube and the ovary that goes with it.

That's where our pain became worse. We knew that was what the doctors were going to say, but it was devastating. Angela only has one ovary and one tube after having an ovarian cyst removed in her late teens. The doctors had just told us that we were about to be unable to have any more children.
Again, realizing the situation, the staff did what they could to give comfort.
I asked if there was anything that could be done to save the tube or the ovary and the tube. The doctor replied that they could try to save one or both, but that the emphasis would be to save Angela first from any risks. That kind of statement made very clear what the chances were.
They immediately sent for an ambulance to transfer Angela to Memorial for emergency surgery. It was one of the harder things I have been told in my life when I was informed that I would be unable to ride with her. So, Christine got behind the wheel and we took off for Memorial.

By the time that we got to Memorial, it was around 11:15, and there were already people there waiting for us. You know you are loved when you get to a hospital late in the night on a Saturday and find three already there and three more are on their way to just be there to support you.
It took almost 45 more minutes for Angela to be transported and into the pre-op area, so that I could be back with her. During all of that time I was surrounded by family and brethren of faith that wanted to comfort and cheer me.
When I got to go back in to see her, Angela had already been talking to the surgeons and we went over what we were hoping for them to be able to do one more time. Again, the reply was not positive, emphasizing that Angela's overall well-being was the most important. We couldn't have known how accurate they were on that point.
Shortly after midnight I walked with Angela to the outside of the operating area. We gave each other one last kiss, and I went out to wait. They told me that the surgery could be from one to two hours, based on how much damage they had to repair.

Thankfully, the hospital staff directed all of us to an empty seating area not far from the OR. At that point, there was nothing for me to do but sit and think, and that's when the fear and the sadness grips you. Sometimes, being with the one that you love and supporting them in their fear can help you hold it together when you're ready to break, but when you can't be there for them, you have to face your own feelings.
I'll admit that in that time I wept more than I have at any point of my life, and my faith was weak.
But that's why God made churches, so that you can have brethren there to bear you in your infirmities. The seven of us in that waiting area didn't sit in silence, we didn't exchange meaningless trivial words, we prayed and shared scriptures of God's protection and help of His people. Hearing them turn to passage after passage (so many of them favorites of mine) and read the promises of God to aid the ones He allows to fall into adversity was such a strengthening for my soul.
And then we prayed. And I asked God first to save Angela, then to do as He saw fit. I knew how bad the usual results would be, and I only had enough faith to ask for Him to protect my love. I offered those words, so long known and prepared for, and declared to Him: "blessed be the name of the LORD." And as the others prayed, He gave peace.

I said at the start that I had never before had a true reason to quote that verse, and I tell you honestly now, I still don't!

After only around 45 minutes, the surgeon and his staff came out to find us (they actually had walked past us, since I was sitting on the floor and they hadn't seen me). The expressions on their faces were far more happy than I would have expected for ones who had just dealt with such a situation.
But that was before they spoke.
Angela was fine, praise God! However, that was by no means all that He had done for us. He worked a miracle! It turns out that the egg hadn't gone into the tube at all, but had implanted on the side of her ovary, and in such a way that when it ruptured there was no internal damage to the ovary. Both the ovary and the tube were undamaged either by the pregnancy or the surgery. We were assured that there was zero harm done to the ability of us to have further children. She had lost around a liter of blood, which had been what increased the pain she was feeling earlier, and had been right on the line of requiring a transfusion, but even that was unneeded.
A few short hours later, I was sleeping on a sofa next to her bed.

At this point I want to briefly point out why the word "miracle" is so easily spoken on this matter.
I already mentioned the biggest statistic of ectopic pregnancies. 93% of them involve the egg implanting in the tube, and the resulting damage to the reproductive system. Around 7% are  located at the end of the tube on either side, and can result in the same or worse surgical results, including the removal of the uterus.
While my math isn't good, it's good enough for me to know that 93+7=100. In this case though, there are some very rare cases. The frightening thing about these cases is that though combined, they all take up less than 1% of the ectopic cases, they account for around 20% of the fatalities. Two options are cervical (implanted in the cervix) and abdominal (implanting in some other area of the abdomen, including other organs). Both of them can lead to major damage.
Then there is the final option, an ovarian ectopic, which is what happened to Angela. Even within that, several events can take place. Sometimes the rupture damages the ovary and causes it to cease function, or a portion of the ovary has to be removed.
Even in the midst of having that less than 1/3 of 1% chance of having an ovarian ectopic, God still blessed us to have no damage caused whatsoever. Other than the hemorrhaging, which was bad enough, that lack of damage is a miracle. It defies probability in the most wonderful way as to allow two people who would have had no other chance for children to have no loss of ability.

Don't get me wrong, this whole event was very painful for us.
Angela had to endure hours of massive pain and had weeks of recovery from emergency surgery and loss of blood.
The emotional toll on us from the stress of that night and the loss of our child is something that still appears at times. God saw fit, in His perfect wisdom and righteousness, to both give and take a life in a short period of time, and that leads to a lot of feelings.

However; as much as it hurt, and as much as the short life of our child will not be forgotten, the way that God was with us through the whole ordeal and supplied us with blessing after blessing is overwhelming.
Instead of choosing to feel that pain; He has helped us to give thanks for all He did.
He gave us six days of joy and hope in the gift of that little life.
He gave us time with family and friends to express the wonder of His blessing in conception.
He gave me the chance, on the night of the 10th, to speak to that child for a little while and to express the affection in which we held that child.
He provided loving friends and family to be there immediately to support us, even at a very inconvenient time. They stayed well into the early morning, just to be there with me and surround me with their love.
He put us in an age where we have machines and medicine that were able to save my wife. In previous generations she would not have survived.
He guided the hands of the doctors and their efforts to fix the damage without need to be invasive.
He gave His pure and perfect word, which is filled with His inspired comfort for us in time of need.
His Spirit came and interceded for me, when I didn't have the faith to think that He would work beyond the laws of probability.

I wanted to share this with everyone.
Only a little bit of it is to tell the account of what happened to us. We are not unique in the struggles and pain that came into our lives.
Instead, what we have to give is glory to God for His amazing kindness to us!