i could go on and on about my feelings about mike, his life, his death and our twisted path of fate. but that's not why i chose to write about him right now. i bring all of that up because it was mike that encouraged me to write. I wrote so that he could know a little more about who i am. i wanted him to know the real me, the me that i can't really portray through conversation. the me that i can only offer through the words i can write in the privacy of a dark room with a candle burning. one of the first things he would always say when he called was, "you haven't written anything in a while." i wish i had listened more. i wish i had taken his advice and written more often. and i know that now, in my time of need, that would be his advice to me. if i were to say, "mike, what do i do? where do i go from here?" his very words would be, "i think you should write." so here i am.
three weeks ago, i was pregnant. 37 weeks, 2 days, to be exact. three weeks ago, i was decorating a nursery and flipping out because i just knew i was going to go into labor before i had everything, down to the last bib ready and washed. and i just couldn't have that. everything had to be perfect when i brought my little boy, kristopher home. three weeks ago, i could have never imagined that when i went to the hospital because i didn't feel my baby kicking and moving around like he should have been, that i would have faced what i did. three weeks ago, i never would have thought i would have to say goodbye to my baby, before i even got to say hello. three weeks ago, my life was perfect. and now, it's a mess of shattered dreams and a heart broken into a million pieces.
the nurse strapped the monitor on my belly and said "let's see why little baby wanted mommy to be up at this hour." it was 1:30 am. i had tossed and turned in my mind about whether to go to the hospital until i just couldn't take it and decided to go. looking back now, i realize how ridiculous it was to even debate the issue. i think maybe my heart knew the outcome and my mind just didn't want to wrap itself around it. actually in hindsight, i should have gone in way before it got to the point of "what do i do if i go and the baby is gone?" i should have gone at the first moment that "this is not normal" entered my mind. why i didn't, is a question i will always ask myself and a burden that I am praying the Lord takes away from me.
there was no heartbeat. two fetal monitors, a doppler, and two ultrasounds confirmed my worst nightmare. sadly, it took that much to confirm that. my head knew the truth after the nurse couldn't find the heartbeat after the first 5 seconds, but my heart held on to what little hope i had until the doctor himself finally sat on my bed, and told me what i already knew and was dreading to hear. and even then i'm not sure i truly grasped it. i had heard the news before. twice actually. "i'm so sorry ma'am but there isn't a heartbeat." and both of those times i thought my world was caving in on me. but even though those miscarriages at 9 weeks and 6 weeks broke my heart, they didn't hold a candle to this. i had spent 9 months with this child. he had an identity. he had a name. i already knew some of his likes and dislikes, just from his behavior in my womb. i knew things about him that no one else knew. he could touch me and i could touch him. i nourished him, and he grew. i spoke to him, and he could hear me. not only could he hear me, he responded. we lived an entire lifetime together that was sacred, just me and him. i had gotten to the point that i was so excited to meet him, yet so sad to give up that special relationship that he and i had, that i would never be able to get back. i never dreamed that that lifetime, would be the only time with him on this earth. what turned out to be the next 3 days in the hospital, were very easily the worst 3 days of my life.
i am so glad that i don't live in the old days when stillbirth was taboo and never spoken about. babies were whisked away before the family even got a chance to see them. i not only got to see kristopher, i got to hold him. as much as i wanted. and that time with him, i treasure more than anything in this world. even though he was not there, his beautiful vessel of life gave me the more comfort than anything else.
i walked into the hospital joking with justin about how funny it would be if we ended up having to stay at the hospital and have the baby overnight and call the family in the morning and say "surprise! kristopher is here!" and instead we had to call our family and tell them that they had lost a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, and a brother. and i walked out of that hospital with empty arms and an empty heart.
i am learning a lot through this journey of grief. i am learning first of all, about myself. who i was, who i am, and who i want to be. i'm learning about the unbreakable bond of family and what it means to be a friend. whether it is being there and crying with me, or understanding when i need them to go away because i need to be alone, my true friends have really come shining through and the tapestry of my family has become more tightly woven. but most importantly, i'm learning about God. who He is, how much He loves me, and how much i desperately need Him.
