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I was at work. The phone rang. "Clem's Collectibles. This is Regan. How can I help you?" It was Dewitt Women's Health. They told me to meet my wife at the hospital. That was all the information I received. My mind figured that one of our babies had died. We were expecting twins. I walked out to the car and started to cry as I put my key in the ignition. I asked God, "Why? Why does this have to happen?" This was the first of many times that I repeated that question.

I drove across town and twenty minutes later I arrived at the hospital. My wife was not there. This was a headache. At this point I still had no idea what was going on. The hospital called Dewitt Women's Health. They had told me the wrong instructions. I was supposed to have gone and picked Lindsay up and drive her to the hospital. I went back down to my car. Turned on the ignition and continued to cry. I headed towards another side of town.

Upon arriving at Dewitt Women's Health, I went in and gave Lindsay a big hug. I don't remember what was said. But we proceeded to get in the car. We probably prayed together. We arrived at the hospital over an hour after I received that initial call.

All I remember from the hospital that night is the ultrasound. This was the saddest moment of my life. All of the dreams we had of the future came crashing down. The death of a baby that is yet to be born is not just a death of a life that has not taken its first breath of air; it is the death of every dream you have of the future. Each dream had to be thrown away and rebuilt. I was still clinging to hope at this point.

I sat in the corner of the semi-lit room. The floor was cold. The metal on my chair was cold. Everything seemed cold. Lindsay laid on her back. The ultrasound was out her view, so she looked at me for confirmation that they might still be alive. At times I would just weep, more inside than out because I had to be strong for her. For about an hour the ultrasound technician took photos of the babies. She measured their heads, their hearts, everything. I kept praying in my dark, cold corner that God would heal them. I wanted to see them start moving. I wanted them to live so badly. I said, "I will tell the whole world of this miracle if you would just give life back to them." They did not move. Lindsay and I left that room broken and sadder than either of us have ever been in our lives.

In a room in the women's center of the hospital, we could hear the cry of newborns. The cry of newborns became a background

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