How Do You Know He's Real?
Monthly Column by Amy Hammond Hagberg

It was midnight and the city was finally quiet. From my sixth story office window I saw thousands of flickering stars overhead in the September sky and a gentle breeze rustled through the carefully manicured trees. A lonesome car floated down the freeway, bringing its occupant home after a long day.

But my night was not yet over. As a major accounts salesperson for one of the country's largest yellow pages publishers, I put in a tremendous number of hours. The deadline pressure could be intense. Fifteen to eighteen hour days became routine the last few months of a campaign when all accounts had to be updated. In this industry, perfection and results are expected. And the personal toll could be overwhelming.

As I was looking out my window that night my mind was littered with business details. But I had another, far more important matter on my mind. A few weeks earlier I had learned that I was pregnant. Normally, this kind of news would be welcomed and exciting. My husband Craig and I had a wonderful marriage and a beautiful two-year-old daughter who would love a little brother or sister to play with. And we could definitely afford another child and a larger home.

But the cons seemed to outweigh the pros. My career had always been extremely important to me. How could I continue to work those hours and climb the corporate ladder with two small children? At that time, a woman had never held this position in a major metro market and been pregnant.

Besides the impact on my career, I had to admit that I was afraid. I was afraid of the pain. My first pregnancy was difficult -- my petite 4' 10" frame was not well-suited to bearing a 9 pound, 2 ounce baby. Kaia was surgically delivered after twenty hours of hard, back-breaking labor. We almost lost her twice, and when she was finally pulled from my womb I was so upset that I didn't even want to see her. I remember women telling me I would forget all about the pain once that beautiful new person was born. Well, let me tell you...I haven't forgotten one second. I didn't think I could go through it all over again.

But I didn't have much choice now. I'd spent the last couple of weeks in my car eating soda crackers, drinking 7-Up and crying. But oddly enough, I was beginning to get excited. I started thinking about baby names, decorating the nursery and making plans like any expectant mother.

So while I should have been working that September night I was really thinking about the future. One of my colleagues, Roy, invaded my daydreams and told me that I looked terribly tired and pale...was I feeling alright? Rather fatherly, he urged me to go home and get some sleep. I agreed and headed down the freeway for my 20-mile commute.

When I got home I noticed that I was spotting a bit. Nothing major, but I called my father-in-law, a physician, for some reassurance. He suggested I hop into bed and relax...I'd just been working too hard.

I slept fitfully that night and awoke with a start early the next morning. I'd had the most incredible dream! Remember a dream was unusual for me; I had a sleep disorder and took medication each night to sleep. I could rarely recollect what had happened in my dreams.

But this night...it was very clear. Two beautiful angels with long, flowing, translucent gowns and wavy golden hair were praying over a tiny baby lying in a casket. They were surrounded by a warm glowing light. They looked at me with compassion in their eyes and said, "Everything will be alright."

I awoke with a start, got out of bed, ran to the bathroom and had a miscarriage. While logic told me that countless women have miscarriages and it usually happens because a fetus is imperfect, I was heartbroken. I felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped away.

Then my type-A, overachieving personality took over and I showered and went to see my doctor. After the examination I shrugged on my business suit, grabbed my briefcase and made a sales call.

I'd always considered myself to be a Christian. At least the kind who went to church a couple of times a month and wore a cross around her neck. After this experience I understood that God is real and came to me in my dream to offer the comfort and assurance that He would love and care for our baby for all eternity. When I look out my window now I see more than stars, I see heaven.

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