Strength- in the form of a little boy-

I remember when they arrived.
I didn't think I'd really ever get them...

The hospital stay was really such a blur-
So many choices given-
Choices made-
In a moment.

What would you like to do with his body?

I don't know? What are my choices? I've never done this before... I just came here to have a baby not to lose one...

Choices.
Burial, Cremation, Donation...

What is 'Donation'?

You can send your baby to the University of Michigan. There a doctor will perform an autopsy- in hopes to learn more about stillbirth- to further the knowledge of perinatal loss- He would be with one doctor, not a class. The doctor would be in contact with you. Let you know. That is one choice you have.

Helping others learn more? Perhaps preventing another mom of this heart-ache?

"Yes. I'd like that- that beautiful body is his container. It's not him. I like his life having a purpose- a help to others. Yes. Yes. I'd like that."

I signed on the dotted line knowing that after the autopsy he would be cremated but it was not custom to receive his ashes. But I was o.k. with that... Wasn't I???

Months later I began to panic.
I needed those ashes.
What had I done?
A container yes- but that precious beautiful body held his soul.
I held him. I loved him.
What had I done????

And then- as if God had answered my prayers I got the letter.
It had changed... IF families wanted them, they could get their loved-one's ashes back- but they needed to know by a certain date. Before burial.

I made calls! YES I WANT THEM!
I sent emails! YES I WANT THEM!
I faxed faxes! YES I WANT THEM!

I knew they would come- and I waited and waited and waited...

And then came the package.
So very small.
And I knew what it was.
I opened it up and looked at what was left. Fingered its contents. My six pound eleven ounce baby. So full of life inside of me- I could now hold in one hand- and I fell. My legs gave out on me. I fell to the floor in uncontrollable sobs. My baby! My God! My God- Why have you forsaken me? The pain was unbearable and I felt in the moment- knew in that moment that I could not get up alone. I still remember that floor- the shaking- the pain.
The pain.
I remember that moment as if it were yesterday. Though as I write these words- 5 years have gone by. Five years.
And yet I will never forget it.

For while on that floor, my God sent me strength- which came in the form of a little boy- crawling to his mom- watching his mom as she wept.
Wept so much for his brother- for not being able to keep him here. Not being able to keep him safe. Keep his spirit here. In that beautiful container. Safe.

My God sent me strength- which came in the form of a little boy-
crawling to his mom- resting his head upon hers.
Comfort.
Strength.
Breath.

He watched me as I wept. And I hope he doesn't remember the pain in my eyes. The hurt in my soul. I don't think he does. For he was sent to me- and he came- and in that moment he saved me- saved the pieces of my already shattered heart.

It's moments like this- I am so very grateful to my God. My Comfort. My Strength.