~This was the day I feared the most of all, remembering how so many years ago I laid to rest your big brother and had to walk away forever.
During the entire pregnancy all that I could think of was how is this final moment going to feel? How will I survive? Will it hurt forever............how do I heal?
I remember that Good Friday, the day I held you for the very first time while you took your final breaths nestled gently in my arms. As the doctor approached with the stethoscope I remember closing my eyes and holding my breath.......waiting........."I'm very sorry, but he's gone".
I sat and held you, surrounded by your father, brothers, grandmothers, aunties and uncle, and my very dear friends that were there to witness your departure to the Spirit World beyond. My blood drained away, I felt chilled, and oh so numb.
All I could think of was "this can't be happening to me......this just cannot be happening to me......not again......why?......this cannot be happening to me"..........
I somehow made it through the rest of the day on auto-pilot. I dressed you in the clothing your father brought for you, enabling others to hold you. I couldn't watch as they one-by-one said their goodbyes.
As everyone left I could only sit in silence in the hallway sobbing and aching for this beautiful little boy that had been growing and kicking inside of me only 8 short days ago.
How does this happen? Why does this happen?
I spent the remainder of the evening holding you, bathing you, saving your feet prints and locket of hair. I rubbed you down with Nivea cream and dressed you one last time that day, in preparation for the cold storage.
I remember placing you so gently inside the 'bag', taking care to wrap you in the hospital sheets, cover your face, and zip you up. I wrapped you in blue ribbons and tied a bow, then held you waiting for the security guards to come and take you away.
Shortly after midnight I walked out of that place........my empty arms aching......my heart pounding......my thoughts so scattered.
What do I do now?
I returned home and somehow we got through the next few days of your wake service. I could see you, hold you, caress you, kiss you. I loved your beautiful new baby scent and focused on breathing you all in so that I could remember the details forever.
Then came the moment I feared most of all. The dreaded day of departure.
~I didn't want to let go, but I had no choice. It was time.
We surrounded you with our precious keepsakes and gifts, and I swear my heart stopped beating as the lid was lowered knowing I'd never see your beautiful face again.
I felt the scalding tears while I struggled to breathe......and knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
I don't know how I got outside and barely remember the procession to the graveside. The drive seemed to take forever, but passed too quickly.
The sun was setting......the damp, spring air was crisp. As the casket was lowered into the ground and the daisies placed over your tiny body all I could think is "my baby's in there. A part of me is in that box and I will never see him or touch him ever again. Oh God, please help me get through this. I can't breathe, I can't do this.......oh somebody please help me.........."
How does a Mother leave her child's precious, newborn body in the dark, cold, dirt and not lose her freaking mind? I have no answers, but in hindsight can only say that the human spirit is very resilient when it wants---or has---to be.
I couldn't watch as everyone took a turn at tossing a handful of earth on top of him. My legs were giving out and I felt too weak to stand any longer. Please-----just get me out of here! I can't watch this, I can't breathe, it hurts too much........
The panic overtook me.......
We buried him as the sun was setting.......and left him beneath the stars for all eternity............
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