After we found out that our baby did not have a heartbeat anymore and we were admitted into our room, the grievance counselor came in and talked to us. She explained what will take place, how we are going to be feeling, and all the decisions will be have to make quickly. (BTW, our grievance counselor was and is amazing. We could not have done it without her. I wish all hospitals have someone like her.) Anyway, she said the first decision we would have to make before he was born was if we want to see him or not. The other decisions we had to make were if we wanted to hold him, bathe him, dress him, take pictures of him, how long we want him in the room, funeral arrangements, and things like that.
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would have to make decisions like that. Parents don’t think they will ever have to plan their child’s funeral, let alone their infant’s. You don’t think this could really happen to you when you’re pregnant. You don’t think when you go into the hospital to have your baby that you could be leaving without your baby.
The obvious choice for us was that we wanted to see him, we wanted to hold him, we wanted to do everything. This would be the only chance we would get to do those things with Wiley. Even though he wouldn’t be crying, opening his eyes or breathing, he was still our baby.
When Wiley was born at 9:00 that night, they first laid him on my stomach, just like they normally would. I grabbed his little fingers and looked at him for the very first time. They then took him to the side so the doctor could examine him. They wrapped him in a blanket and gave him back to me. I held my baby boy for the first time. He looked completely perfect. Just did not seem possible that something could have gone wrong. He was perfect.
I grew to love Wiley so much during the 8 months that I carried him. But the second they placed him in my arms, I could never explain the love I felt for him in that moment. I loved him more than ANYTHING. I love him more than ANYTHING.
Then, my husband held him. My heart completely broke for him. I knew he was hurting so bad. I knew he was trying to be strong for me, but I knew his dreams were shattered too. When a mommy thinks of having a baby, they think of the baby as a newborn, nursing them, rocking them, and playing with them. But when a daddy thinks of having a baby, they think of the baby 3, 4, 5 years old. For my husband, he thought of taking Wiley out of the farm, riding the tractor, playing outside, going to the Farm store, going to the sale barn, things he did with his dad. So when he held Wiley for the first time, I hurt for him.
We then bathe him and dressed him. I dressed him in this tractor gown and matching hat that I bought right after we found out he was a boy. They took a lot of pictures. A few hours after, we allowed our family to come in. They got to see him and hold him. By this time, it was pretty late. So our family went and slept in the room next door.
One of the options we had was Wiley could stay in our room or they had a nursery just for him or we could keep him with nurses. I could not bear the thought of leaving him or not being with him every second, so we kept him in our room the whole time. My husband and I were completely exhausted. It was about 1:00ish when everyone left our room. We pushed our beds next to each other and he fell asleep as I was sitting in my bed holding Wiley. I sat there for awhile holding him while he slept. We had a rocking chair in our room and I told myself this would be the only time I will get to rock my baby and tonight would be the only time I got to do it myself. So I got out of bed, went to the rocking chair and rocked my sweet boy all night. The rest of the time, my husband was there, our families were there, or the nurses were there. But in those late hours in that rocking chair, it was just Mommy and Wiley. I held him as close as I could to me and cried, rocked him, looked at him, talked to him, sang and hummed to him.
That night in the rocking chair was the most precious hours of my life.
I will never forget that.
The next day us and our families held him all day. We were being released that night. The
last 2 hours we were in the hospital, our bags were packed and our families waited in the waiting room. My husband and I held Wiley for those last few hours. I did not want to leave. I did not want to go to home without my baby. When the funeral home people got there, we knew we had to leave. Our grief counselor was going to be the one carrying Wiley down to them. Placing Wiley in her arms for her to take him was the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do. They put me in a wheel chair and she walked beside me carrying Wiley. There came a point when she had to go down one hall and I had to keep going towards the elevator. Here I am being wheeled out of the hospital in front of all these people in the waiting room and I didn’t have my baby in my arms.
From then until right now and probably forever, my arms ache to hold my baby boy. I literally want to scream because I want him in my arms so bad. I look at his pictures and just want to pick him up right out of the picture and hold him.
I know if and when God provides us with living children that we will love them unconditionally, like we do Wiley.
But for the rest of my life, I will have aching arms for Wiley
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