A doctor told me that my baby was dead instead of that he was ready to be born.
I spent days in the hospital in a horrible drug and pain filled haze.The doctors pumped me full of antibiotics because carrying a corpse inside you causes serious infection. They pumped me full of painkillers but it did nothing to help the worst pain. No amount of medication can even dull the pain of a broken heart.
As I spent days in labor, there was a tiny part of me that still knew what hope was, that hoped they were all wrong, that he would come out and be fine.
The epidural diminished the pain of labor, but not delivery. I still felt everything as I pushed my precious boy out. I felt everything as the doctor spent half an hour with her arm inside me trying to detach his placenta so I didn't get an even worse infection. But what I felt most was a horrible, consuming love.
I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved and still love him.
After he was born I started turning down pain killers and sleep aids that previously had been put in my IV. I needed every second possible to hold him, to be aware so I could memorize his face, his hands, his smell. When I close my eyes, I see his face.When I look at my husband, I see my son. I remember how it felt to hold him and snuggle him in bed, how his fingers fit so perfectly wrapped around mine. I remember what his skin felt like under my lips when I kissed him goodbye. And I remember how much more it hurt when they took him away. I didn't think it was possible to hurt even more. But I did. I remember all of these things because it's all I have of him. I only have memories, and they are so few.
So today on your birthday, instead of baking you cake to make a mess of, and watching you blow out your first candles, instead of watching you open your first presents and watching you smile, instead of taking pictures of you, I am at home without celebration, without your smiles, without you.
It's just me and my memories. And they are so few.
I loved you then. I love you now. I'll love you always.
My precious baby boy.
