Tuesday, April 21, 2009
one year ago i went in for my twenty week ultrasound. full of hope, excitement, anticipation. i left the office with a broken heart. my son had passed away and i needed to give birth.
i walked into the hospital holding my head high. i had a day to process the raw emotions, and now i needed to take care of the physical end of it. they put me in a special birthing room, reserved for mothers in the situation i was in: knowing they were going to deliver a stillborn baby. the outside of the door had a picture (of a sunset or something) to let the doctors and nurses that entered know that the occasion was not a happy one, and congratulations were not in order. you have no idea how much i appreciated this because i was wondering how many people would smile and congratulate us. i put my things down and sat on the bed. i wasn't prepared for the title wave of emotion that would hit me. right next to the bed was a baby warmer/bassinet. they had laid out several tools that are used for cleaning the baby after delivery. i cried. hard. all stephan could do was hold me. there were no more words of comfort. over the next six hours or so i was in labor. it was painful in every way. no reward at the end. my only comfort was that ryan's spirit was looking down from above. it happened quietly. my tiny baby was gently delivered, swaddled in a receiving blanket, and placed in my arms. he was fully formed. all of him would have fit in the palm of my hand. i placed his limp hand across my fingernail and mourned. i didn't want to let him go. the doctor gave us time to be with him, pray with him, love him. we cried together and held our son. then we said goodbye...for now. promises of seeing him, and raising him on the other side were our only comfort. the nurse did his hand and foot prints. i can't tell you how thankful i am that she did, it is my only "photo" of ryan.
this year has been one of the most powerful, growth-inducing years of my life. i have grown closer to my heavenly father than i ever could have imagined. my testimony of the gospel, and heavenly fathers plan for us is deep. i know, without a doubt, that He has a plan for us. pain and suffering is part of that plan. i believe He mourns with us and knows our pain on every level. i also believe He will never give us more than we can handle. as hard as it has been, i have handled this trial, and continue to do so everyday. my pain will never fully go away. i don't want it to. it is what i have left of ryan, for now. i am thankful for my husband. he stands by me, loves me, holds me and fulfills my every need. this trial has deepened our relationship.
i write this because it is healing for me. i want to remember my feelings - good and bad. i want my other children to know what this time was like. and perhaps this will help another going through a similar trial.
i love you ryan. we miss you and think of you all the time. even though your body is not here, your spirit is felt in our home. i can't wait for the day when i will be able to hold you again. you have taught me so much, you have given me so much. thank you, sweet, dear son.