It’s been a week of hell… And I’m sure the weeks and months to come won’t be much better.
Last Thursday, they went to the hospital because the baby was dehydrated.
Friday, the doctors told her he might have a horrible genetic condition.
Saturday morning, he died.
I walked in the hospital room early Saturday morning and watched my friend and her husband have to make decisions that no mommy and daddy should have to make.
Keep Sawyer attached to the breathing machine and have about 7 hours with him… Or take him off and have 2 hours with him but be able to hold him tight and cover him with kisses?
They chose to remove him from the machine.
Should they keep the monitors on and watch his heartbeat slow… Or turn them off and trust that they’d know when the time was getting close?
They chose to turn them off – To focus all their attention and love on their little boy.
I watched the nurses take his tiny footprints and hand prints. I watched people walk in the room and not know what to say.
I was one of those people.
There are zero words of comfort when you know your baby has just minutes left on earth.
I prayed with them, I hugged them, I let them talk.
I joined them in the Lord’s Prayer after the doctor walked in, felt for a pulse and found none.
I walked with them as they handed their baby over to the nurses for the final time.
I watched my friend collapse from exhaustion.
I watched her husband get mad at the world.
I hugged them goodbye – and told them I’d be there if they need anything.
And then I left. The urge to speed home and hold each of my babies was so strong.
As of this writing, it’s been 8 days since little Sawyer died – and things haven’t gotten any easier.
Is that stupid to say? I mean, of course things aren’t going to get easier. They just lost a child. A beautiful little boy – one of the happiest and most loved little boys on the face of the earth.
Throughout the week, I’ve tried to be there for my friend…
She had to tell her older 2 kids their brother is now with God.
She had to make funeral arrangements for her 21 month old son…
She had to choose a service, a funeral home… and a casket.
I have never seen a casket so small.
There SHOULDN’T be caskets that small.
She’s had to choose the pictures for her baby’s funeral.. the clothes he should be placed in… the music to play during the service.
I cannot imagine where she drew the strength.
I cannot imagine where she goes from here.
I cannot imagine what I can do to help her heal.
What do you say to a friend who has just lost a piece of her heart?
So many times this week, I’ve tried to put myself in her impossible position..
What would I want… What would I need?
I have a 19 month old daughter – What would I want more than anything if, God forbid, I would be in that position?
The answer, to me, is simple.
I would want her short life to mean something… And be remembered..
I would want people to help me find the balance between moving on in life… yet always remembering that my baby existed and will always be a part of my family.
So, that is what I will do for my friend.
And her beautiful baby boy.