In nine hours my beautiful wife and I will head to the hospital where she will give birth to our second child. But for those of you who have followed our story for the past few years, you know that barely scratches the surface of our long, painful journey.
When you’re dealing with multiple miscarriages things get pretty awful in a hurry. And when you’re hit with a 1-in-100,000 fetal abnormality incompatible with life, combined with the heartlessness of pro-life protesters verbally accosting us on one of the worst days of our lives, it’s enough to send you careening over the edge of sanity. And that’s to say nothing of the hundreds of trolls who badgered me after the video went viral. I got fresh hate mail just this afternoon, more than three years removed from the event.
When politics and religion combine, things get nasty. And I stood for a good long while just staring at dark side of the Internet, which acts as a safe haven for anonymous Internet cowards with too much time of their hands and hate in their hearts. And let me tell you, it’s pretty easy to succumb to the noise and let the venom overwhelm you. It’s like you’re lost while driving at night, and you haven’t seen another car in so long that you’re happy just to see headlights — even if it means they’re barreling down to destroy you.
But right about then, something amazing happened. You guys showed up and saved the day.
Seriously, thank you. Thank you to each one of you fucking glorious souls who reached out to us and supported us one way or another. To the strangers who took up fighting the trolls when I couldn’t stomach it any longer. To the random people who sent us e-mails sharing your own heartbreaking stories to let me know MJ and I weren’t alone. To the folks who left comments telling us to hang in there. To the people who sent us cards and gifts. All of you. Each of you. Each and every one of you who went out of your way to take the time to give a stranger comfort should know that your actions are nothing short of heroic.
At a time when we needed some hope and support, you denizens of the Internet picked us up and enveloped us in a virtual bear hug of love. You did more than leave a comment or shoot over an e-mail. You showed us decency when all we could see was hatred and misery, and rekindled my faith in the basic goodness of people. Simply put, you had our backs. And for that I’m forever thankful.
And yet you weren’t done there.
When we announced we were pregnant with this baby, you rallied the troops again and lifted us up once more. You carried us through our self-doubt and our fears of something going wrong again. You nurtured us every step of the way, and kept checking in to make sure we were OK. You invested yourself in our lives, and for the life of me I can’t think of anything more meaningful than that.
Facing steep odds is difficult no matter what, but I can’t tell you how much it helps to have you guys in our corner. Seriously. When I posted this afternoon about MJ being induced tomorrow, I teared up as I read comment after comment from you guys congratulating us and wishing us well. Having an army of support behind us has made all the difference in the world. And I owe you.
I mean that too. Some of you have reached out to talk about this and that over the years and I love it. Please don’t ever hesitate to drop me a line, because if I can help I will. If MJ can help she will. You guys held us close and helped us every step of the way, and I will spend my entire life trying to pay you back in spades.
At some point tomorrow I will post a picture of our new son or daughter. It will list a name, length, and weight. What it won’t say — but what I’m saying right now — is thank you. And we couldn’t have done it without you. I fucking love you guys. A lot.
Now let’s celebrate!