I became pregnant for the second time after 14 years. My husband and I stopped trying to make it happen many years ago. A old friend of ours has a tradition of shouting out, Dad’s last cast!, when he’s fishing, just to play with fate and attempt to manipulate the fishing gods. I jokingly called our miraculous pregnancy, Dad’s Last Cast. It held on as long as it could.

I let it go in the Pacific in Costa Rica. In 8 weeks, I came to know it as a she, and she grew to fill the cup of my hand. I placed my hands in the water, eyes fixed, and with one current she was swept away. My eyes frantically searched for a flash of red, but the ocean graciously took her out of sight. It was a piece of me; a divine gift that I let go. Protective thoughts raced through my mind and my heart ached to nurture something that didn’t need nurturing. I was ready to charge at any bird that came near. I realized how much love had grown in the last couple months and what I was willing to do to protect it. It also made me see what I was not responsible for.