But I can't always bring myself to say that.
When someone asks me if Austin's my only child, it's easier to just say yes. But every time I do that, I fail to bring honor to my other kids.
Only when I get to know someone do I give a truthful and honorable answer. I have three kids.
Cassie and I lost our first baby in February 2015. After trying for two years, finally getting pregnant, and then suffering that loss, the pain was beyond awful. All of the joy as a first-time parent was quickly replaced with hurt.
We weren't able to find out the baby's sex, so we picked Angel as a gender neutral name. Still, we both had a gut feeling our first child was a girl, so we always use female pronouns when we reference her. Sometimes, we follow that with a "sorry if we're wrong, Angel," just in case there's a boy waiting on us in Heaven. In that case, we have to think he'll forgive us!
We got pregnant again in July 2015. That started off as a very reluctant happiness. For a long time, I was too afraid to get fully invested. I kept a journal with Angel, writing to her regularly. I couldn't bring myself to do that this time.
As it got later and later, of course, it was easier to think that everything was going to be okay this time. This baby was healthy and strong. Austin was born on March 11, 2016. He's two and a half years old now, and amazing in every way. Smart, sweet and wonderful.
About two years later, we decided to start trying to add to our family. On August 31st, Cassie surprised me by coming up to my office with Austin dressed in a "world's coolest big brother" t-shirt.
Much like with Austin at first, I had a somewhat reluctant joy. I can only imagine that's natural for any parent that's suffered through a miscarriage previously. But as time passed, I started to get more and more confident that everything would be fine.
We started talking more and more with Austin about the baby growing in Mommy's belly. We regularly asked if he wanted a baby brother or a baby sister, to which he'd almost always answer "a doggy" with a smile. Before eating, he'd say "thank you Jesus for our food, and our family, and the baby."
We saw this baby's beautiful heart flutter at the eight-week appointment. Just like with Angel and Austin, it was strong. Everything was perfect.
It was getting close to the time where we'd tell everyone. My grandfather died on September 23rd, and we let the news slip to a few members of our extended family at the funeral. Mainly because they asked or sensed something was up. We didn't want to lie, and figured some good news would be welcome during that time.
But only a short time later, just short of 10 weeks, Cassie started to get the sense that something was wrong. Her instincts turned out to be right.
She made an appointment with her OB/GYN, and the doctor was unable to find a heartbeat. With Angel, Cassie had to learn the terrible news alone in an emergency room. This time, I was with her at the doctor's office. I was able to hold her hand tightly, and we were able to face the reality together. The five or six hours it took for me to get home from a work trip in Lake Charles when we lost Angel were some of the longest of my life.
Chromosomal testing allowed us to learn the gender this time, and we learned it was a girl. Cassie and I decided to name our baby Hope Hazel Mycoskie. The situation and timing played a big role in that choice. Despite the miscarriage, we know the Lord has plans to prosper us and not harm us, to give us HOPE and a future. We have this HOPE as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. Cassie was also incredibly blessed by members of the Hope Mommies Dallas Chapter. And with Grandpa Bernie passing away during this time, we've been thinking a lot about Grandma Hazel. As it turns out, she was able to embrace her husband and her new great grandchild within days of each other.
With Hope, the aftermath of loss has been different than with Angel. We hurt just as much, but there's no time to mourn when a two-year old needs constant attention. Only in the quiet moments after he goes to sleep do I have much of a chance to think about Hope. I think about how far along Cassie would be right now, how big her belly would be, and what we'd be doing to get ready.
The grieving is also more specific. With Angel, we mourned a baby of unknown gender. With Hope, we are suffering the loss of a daughter.
There's one particular moment I started day dreaming about from the moment we found out that Cassie was pregnant. Austin walking into the hospital room and meeting his new sibling for the first time. While that still could happen with another baby later, he'll have to wait to meet Hope.
I've come to believe in a concept called the age of understanding. As Dr. John Piper put it, God "does not condemn those who did not have the mental capacities to put their faith in Him." He will welcome those souls into His kingdom. I believe this to be the case for all unborn babies, including Angel and Hope, as well as all children that have been miscarried or have been victims of abortion.
It will probably always be tough to say I have three children. The questions about kids are usually small talk. Nobody wants the truth in those moments. Just like when someone asks how you're doing. 99.99% of the time, you just say you're fine and move along. Don't tell them you're worried, hurting or troubled.
But three ultrasound pictures hang on our mantle. We will continue to talk to Austin about Angel and Hope. How we pray constantly that He will grow close to God and accept Christ as his savior, so he can join them (and us) in heaven. Our grandmothers and grandfathers are with those sweet babies right now, but more importantly, they're with Jesus for eternity.
