Saturday, February 5, 2011

My Dearest Baby Boy, Cole Jayden

I don't really know how to write this post to you all, so instead I'll write it to him.

My beautiful baby boy, Cole Jayden Howard,

Happy Due Date, My Sweet Angel! I so wish I was going into labor with you today. I can't imagine what these past few months have been like for you. I so pray that your entrance into this world wasn't painful. I know that after that first ultrasound, it was clear to see how much distress you were in and how much weight I was losing. Everyday I question the decisions I made that day and just have to trust that God led us down the right path. Every decision we made, we made to give you the most honorable, most special, delivery we could have, given the circumstance. In some ways I feel that this was so unfair for you and certainly more unfair for me. I know that you are in such a special place where you aren't feeling any pain and I trust that you had a very special purpose for your life, but it doesn't make it any easier.

What should have been.
Today I should be excitedly talking to the nurses about what you're going to be - a boy or girl. I should be holding your daddy's hand while I push you out in a beautiful epidural-enduced, perfect birth. I should have had your daddy hand you to me and introduce you as Cole Jayden Howard. I should be looking down at your sweet face, all wrapped up in a blue blanket, and passing you around to all my family for everyone to hold and "ooh" and "ahh" over. I should be introducing you to your big brother and putting you in the car to take you home for the very first time. I should be happily sitting down, with you nursing happily, to announce to my friends and family that you have arrived.

 Instead of excitedly talking to the nurses about what you were going to be, I was planning your funeral. Instead of holding your daddy's hand while I pushed you out, I was gripping the bedrails of my bed and repeatedly crying, "I don't want to do this." Instead of having your daddy hand you to me to introduce you, you were swept away to a warmer where they began the chromosomal testing. Instead of passing you around to my whole family to "ooh" and "ahh" over you, we passed you between Daddy, Nana, and I in silence. Your Aunt Katie held you for a few minutes, but she was too sad to really process everything. Instead of introducing you to your big brother, we will have to spend the rest of your lives trying to explain who you were. Instead of putting you in the car to take you home, we left the hospital completely empty - my belly was empty, our arms were empty, the house was empty. Instead of sitting down here, with you nursing, to announce your arrival, I am sobbing uncontrollably, writing a letter to my beautiful dead baby.

I hate this.

Hate it.

Hate it.

Hate it.

On the cremation paperwork I had to fill out, under relationship to deceased, I wrote "Mama." If you would have asked me could I ever do all the things I have done in the last year, I would have told you no. I would have said that I'd die. I would have said I could never sit in a room with your Nana, Grandma, and Daddy, picking out an urn, filling out paperwork solidifying legally my relationship to you as your mama. I still can't believe I kept waking up after you passed away. I still can't believe my heart kept beating. I still can't believe I mustered the strength after three weeks to go back to work. I still can't believe I can talk about you most days without bawling. I still can't believe any of this happened and YET...I have your photos as evidence. I have the posts I've written as evidence. I still have your sweet body in an urn in my house engraved with your name as evidence. I still have your footprints, the announcement of your arrival from the hospital, your first outfit in a box, your hospital bracelets, and the little card that went into your warmer as evidence. So I know it happened and I survived. Somehow.

Some have asked to see photos of you and perhaps someday I will be willing to share them. But for now, they are mine. The only private thing I have; the only special thing that your daddy, you, and I can share.

Sweet angel, today, I hope you are celebrating in Heaven. We are going to celebrate you in our own way here, but our celebration might have more tears than smiles. We just miss you so much.

I absolutely, earnestly miss you, my sweet son. And I can't wait until I get to see you someday.
All my love,
Your Mama


Lindsey said... Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Words do not even begin to ease the pain that this day brings. Praying you through my friend!!!

Nina said... Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Prayers for a beautiful day to honor the beauty of your son. May his earthly plan be revealed to you in good time and may you all have the peace to get through this and every day.

Katie Taylor said... Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

I woke up yesterday morning and Cole was the first thing on my mind. I didn't even remember until just now that yesterday was his due date. How interesting. Words cannot express how sorry I am that this had to happen to you and Cole. The only thing that really puts my mind at ease is I just have to believe that it was meant to be, that he didn't survive this world because it saved him from pain in life. I have to believe that it was all meant to be and I have to look forward to the future and have good thoughs for your twins but still keep Cole in my heart. I love you all very much!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...