The Worst Day — Part 2

Well, it’s been over 3 months since I wrote my last entry. I fully intended on writing more of our story, but just never did.

That day in the hospital was a whirlwind to me. I was given medication to induce labor. I was given something to help me relax. We had so many people there visiting and trying to help us. All of our parents. Other family members. We had the BEST care. The best and most compassionate nurses. Wonderful doctors from Premier. I can’t say enough positive things about the care that I received.

But, there I was, in the hospital bed, starting to contract— knowing that my baby was coming… but that I wasn’t going to hear him cry. I wasn’t going to get to see his eyes open, or feel him move. I wasn’t going to be able to feed him for the first time, change him for the first time, take him home. I wasn’t going to be able to do any of that.

Instead, while waiting for him to be delivered, Matt and I were forced to answer such heavy questions. Do you want an autopsy? Which funeral home would you like us to call? I, never in my life, thought that I would even have to remotely think about the idea of burying a child.

I can’t remember most of that day or night. I remember people coming in our room and checking on us. I remember Matt having a migraine. I remember getting an epidural. I remember the next morning, when the pain was worse and I knew that the time was coming for us to meet our precious, beautiful baby. At 12:18PM on July 25th, 2014, Colson was brought into this world. He weighed 5lbs 10oz and was 21 1/2 inches long. He had dark hair like both his mommy and daddy. He had features from both of us, as well as his sisters.

The nurses cleaned him up and brought him to us. He was so beautiful. We held him for hours. I even felt myself rocking him a bit. I cuddled with him for as long as I could.

It was the hardest thing that we had to do– to give him back to the nurse and to say goodbye. Sometimes, I still feel like I can feel him in my arms, That I can feel his little hand wrapped around my finger. That I can feel my cheeks pressed up against his cheeks.

I would never wish this pain on anybody. Our son did not take his first breath outside of the womb, but our son was very much so alive. He was an active little guy who had his life cut so short. Every single day, I wonder why in the world he was chosen to be taken so soon. I know that I’ll never have a clear answer, but I so wish that was not the case.

This is the time of the year that we should be planning a 1st birthday party, but instead, we are heavy-hearted with empty arms.