He Was Perfection

Jan 20, 2018 | The Storm | 0 comments

Submitted by Karen K

The day had come, as I sat waiting for the first shot of my IVF cycle. How did it get to this point? Nine miscarriages over 4 years and this is what I had left. But there was hope. I was told I was young and obviously could get pregnant so those factors worked in my favor. Great. Now if I could stay pregnant, we could celebrate.

Weeks later I arrived at the hospital for the egg retrieval. 24 egg! Forget the shots, headaches, and pain. There’s something to be said about odd. And 16 days later, there it was. A phone call to say my bloodwork was positive. Step one passed. Now to stay pregnant.

 Nine months later, our sweet baby boy arrived. He was perfection. I was finally a mom. At least visibly to everyone that didn’t know about our miscarriages. My heart burst at the seams as he grew and the milestones came. But April 2011 came and my life changed.

After a rough night of little sleep, I awoke to find that sweet boy not breathing. Not moving.

I called my mother in law in a panic; what the hell do I do? I ran upstairs to my sister in law who I was visiting and was an EMT. She took over from there. I just remember screaming, internally or maybe out loud and watching helplessly. We were loaded into an ambulance with EMTs working on him.

That ride was the longest of my life.

When we arrived, we were ushered into a private family room with no update. I assumed no news meant good news. I was wrong. “We got him breathing and he is going to be transferred to Children’s Hospital by STARS”, the doctor finally informed me. I was allowed to briefly see him before he was flown to the next hospital. It was sobering. The tubes. The wires. The beeps.

My heart sank. 

My in-laws drove me to the Children’s Hospital. Another long, agonizing drive. I did not want to be away from my son for a minute but it seemed everyone was doing just that. Upon arrival, I was taken to him. There were mats now to cool his body. There were more wires and tubes. There was a boy who was hardly recognizable in front of me. Then there was a meeting.

Your son is brain dead.

There was no more light after that. I held him weeping. I held him, willing him to just breath on his own. I prayed. But a week later I buried my son. The son we had fought for. The son that was my rainbow after so much loss and pain. What kind of cruel reality was this?

There is no healing from this kind of loss. I guard his memory tightly 7 years onward. I still cry for him and I still wake with terror at the memory.But he shared four months with us. He brought untold joy for four months. And my life is better because of him.

You found us - now stay in touch!

You found us - now stay in touch!

It takes a village, and guess what? We have one!

Keep in touch! Subscribe to hear the latest and greatest.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This