Thursday, February 4, 2010

My Son


I’ve learned some lessons in my life from my children. From my third son, I learned that life goes on, that time doesn’t really let you heal after a loss. It lets your wounded heart scab over, with the scab becoming thicker so that you feel it less. But it breaks open every once in a while, with the pain that is just below it coming out. And then it heals over again, and lets you move on down a path that you never thought you’d be on.

Today, my son would have turned six. But instead of presents, I will go to the florist to buy white and red roses to put on his grave. Our grave – where my husband and I will be buried too. It’s already got a headstone with his name on it; I needed something physical that the world could see and know that he was here.

My third son, the one I was pregnant with when my husband survived his heart attack, was delivered today, February 4, 2004 in the late afternoon. He was 14 ½ inches long, and weighed 1 lb., 15.2 oz. I was only 28 ½ weeks along; he wasn't due until the end of April.

And he was already gone. My son Jimmy was stillborn. We don’t know what happened. The last time I felt him kick was that Sunday during the Super Bowl; we even joked that he would play for the Patriots some day. Tuesday morning I realized he hadn’t been active. By then his heart had stopped. I was induced and delivered him Wednesday afternoon. Saying “goodbye” before I had a chance to say “hello” was the worst moment in my life to date. We held him and took pictures. My Other Mother, my mother’s best friend, brought a small cross that we stitched onto his outfit. My parents held him. My nurse baptized him and the Baptist chaplain prayed with us, because our priest wouldn’t come to the hospital. I left the hospital with empty arms.

We buried him that Saturday. My brother’s wife wrote a beautiful piece, his eulogy, that she read. And, because each of my sons has their own song, my brother read Jimmy’s song out loud, a song I chose for him the minute we knew he was a boy and what his name would be, never thinking for one second it would become such a mournful tune to me.

Sweet Baby James
…There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me
Goodnight you moonlight ladies
Rock-a-bye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rock-a-bye sweet baby James

I will love you forever, my sweet baby James. And life goes on.

5 comments:

evenshine said...

Wow. I am so sorry. What an absolutely horrific experience. Blessings to you and yours.

Amy W said...

So sorry...

Shelli said...

I am so sorry for your loss. Heartbreaking as it is, we all eventually put one step in front of the other. Thinking of you.

Beth said...

so sad and I'm soso sorry for your loss....

BlondeMomBlog (Jamie) said...

I am so sorry about your sweet baby boy. This is a beautiful tribute to him.

Sending you loving thoughts this month. I know this must be a tough time for you!