This isn’t the post I ever expected to be writing today.
We lost our baby boy on Wednesday night when we should have been welcoming him. And as much as the pain of our new reality makes we want to withdraw and run for distractions, my heart knows that I have a much bigger job and a much better way to grieve.
I am the proud mom of a beautiful baby boy, and I want and need to share all of the wonderful details about him just as I would if he was still living and breathing. I’ve had some conversations with people about how and where I’m at with grieving and this is it. There is something newly painful about almost every moment of the day as I encounter things I had planned to experience with him in my arms instead of my heart, but every time I share him with people I can feel my heart healing a little bit.
What was taken away from us at his birth was the future, but it didn’t take away the past. For nine months I had carried him and loved on him, talking and singing to him while I rubbed his little back and bum. After he was born I cradled him and stroked his face. We swaddled him in a blanket at first and then later we bathed him and clothed him in one of his little sleepers. I held him and rocked him like any mother would rock her child, praying at first that if it was God’s will He would bring him back to life, but mostly just praying that he had found his way to heaven safely. When we were alone, Craig and I lay down with him in between us and prayed and wept, and I never wanted to leave.
Leaving him at the hospital while we went home with empty arms was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. We laid him in the fabric case made just for babies who have passed, kissed his chubby cheeks once more, and then closed it up. And my heart broke in two. Most of what we had done with him was a lot like normal mothering, but that was different. You wouldn’t ever zip something up over your babies face like that. It was just so final. After we had gathered our stuff and they brought me a wheelchair, I just couldn’t stop looking at that small bag on the bed and was overwhelmed by a panicked sense that I needed to open it again and just look at him and kiss him. And so I did. I kissed his lips and just breathed him in, knowing I wouldn’t get to see him again until Heaven.
Even though my heart and my mind has come to terms with the fact that we’ve lost our son, my body still aches for him, and there’s an sudden emptiness in it that you probably just don’t notice when your busy with taking care of them on the outside.
At some point I’d like to write out his full birth story because it was perfect in every way but one, but today I just want to share a few of the little details that make me such a proud mom.
God formed him perfectly. Can I tell you about that?
Griffy was 9lbs 2oz (a huge change from his 6.5lb big sister) and he was tall like my hubby at 22.5 inches long. The midwives has mentioned at one of our visits that it didn’t feel like he had a big head, but after his birth Lily measured three times and it was 37cm. The newborn diaper and sleeper we clothed him in at the hospital were really to small for him, which maybe had something to do with the fact that his legs already had some chubby rolls. His hair was blonde like my husbands, and I swear it was receded in the exact same places.
He was sweet and mighty. He was ours.