Not many people have seen this picture of my sweet baby Jay. I’ve kept most of his pictures to myself, jealously guarding his memory and protecting those precious few moments we had with him. He looks perfect, doesn’t he? Chubby cheeked and button nosed. It’s as if he’s just sleeping.
But I need to tell you about what you don’t see. You don’t see the wilting flower. When a baby is stillborn, their body deteriorates very quickly. Without any kind of cooling device to preserve them, they quickly wilt like a delicate flower. Their skin begins to peel. Their coloring changes. They begin to bleed out of their nose, eyes, ears. It’s so upsetting as a parent to see this happen to your perfect little baby.
I’m extremely grateful that my sister-in-law was able to arrive so soon after Jay was born to take so many wonderful photos of him. They are all we have of him now besides the memory of him we keep in our hearts.
We didn’t have a lot of time with our boy. I delivered him at 2:34 am and we left the hospital at around 8:30 am. I wish so badly that we could have had more time with him. I wish my other children could have visited him in the hospital and held him. I wish we could have bathed him. But the gift of time wasn’t something available to us. Our flower was wilting, and quickly. So after 6 hours spent kissing him and snuggling him and singing to him, we swaddled our boy and set him gently in the bassinet. We faced him toward the window where the sun was rising over a valley of evergreens. Someone would be by later to transport him to the funeral home. Leaving him there in that room and fixing my eyes on his bassinet as they wheeled me away is something seared into my soul. Do you know what it’s like to leave the hospital without your baby? Words can’t describe the heartache. I sobbed and sobbed as they wheeled me away, longing for the delicate flower that was impossible to keep any longer. 🌹
Detours Are Still Tours 