Yes, your baby is dead, all right. Said the doctor (or the man I have described as the doctor from hell for the last twenty years). Only twenty-four hours earlier I had received another visit to the gym. This time it was during volleyball practice, again bringing me news regarding the pregnancy of my wife. I looked up from the drill we were running, but it was not Michelle standing in front of me, it was her mom. It was immediately evident something was wrong as my mother-in-law walked over to me and said that Michelle needed to see me outside. As I approached the car I could tell that Michelle was crying and that something really bad had occurred. My first thought was that something had happened to Paul (our oldest son, who was three at the time).

But I remembered about the appointment with Dr. Tullar on our schedule earlier in the morning for the sixth month checkup of our twin boys, David and Daniel.