Letting Go.....

After spending all morning in class, I went to see a dear friend and offer my condolences as she said goodbye to her brother.  He had also been a good friend many years ago before we lost touch.  It's still hard to believe he's gone. It's harder still to try to understand why...  I paid my respects, gave my love to his parents and siblings, and I had to leave.  It's just too soon for me.  This hits so close to home, and my wounds are still healing.... I think they will be for a long time....

I have avoided writing about this because I didn't know what I wanted to say.  I didn't know how to express my feelings on this and it was still too fresh, and too tender a topic.

I have never knew an emotional pain could hurt so much more than any physical pain before.  I never knew how much my heart could hurt, yes - physically hurt - until I had to say goodbye to my baby boy.

When we were at the NICU that Friday - and he coded - all I could say is No - no - no.  I wasn't going to lose my baby.  They needed to do whatever they could.  I couldn't give up on him.  I couldn't lose him.  He couldn't die.  We needed him.  We wanted him.  I needed him.  I wanted him.  I loved him.  All I wanted was for him to come home.  To snuggle up with him and take a nap.  To hold him after a bath, smelling like baby lotion.  To hear him cry or coo or laugh.  Yes, even just to change his diapers and to wake up in the middle of the night to feed him.  All the things a mommy should do.  All the things many new moms complain about because they don't get enough sleep.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be the one who is waking several times a night to care for my little boy.  My little Baden. My little angel.... and our Little Warrior.

When the nurse came to get us that last night, my heart sank into my stomach as soon as I heard the knock on the door.  When we entered the NICU and saw them working on him again, I wanted to scream.  I wanted to not see the numbers and the lines and hear the warning beeps of the equipment.  I knew from the look on the doctor's face what she was going to say....  I told her not to tell me they're doing 'everything' they can until they had done everything they could.  So I knew when she approached us that this was it.

It wasn't fair, the pressure I put on my husband.  We both knew that Baden was tired, that his body was tired, and he was in pain in spite of the medications.  We were told that we could have them remove his breathing tube and let him go on his terms, or he would keep having seizures and coding until that killed him.  We had to do the right thing.  But I just couldn't bring myself to say it was time to let my little boy go.  My hubby would have to decide it was time.

I have never seen anyone die before.  I was scared.  I was hurting.  I didn't know what was happening.  After they removed the tube and most of the IVs, I wrapped him up in his blanket better and just held him.  I snuggled him, told him how much I loved him, covered his little forehead with kisses.  After some time, I told the nurses that they had to take out the rest of the IVs and tubes.  He needed to be held as any baby should be - no tubes, no wires, no lines.  Just Mama and her baby.

My husband sat beside me.  He and I held Baden's hands, kissed his forehead and cheeks.  Told him how much we loved him.  Told him we didn't want him to hurt, didn't want him to suffer.  Told him it was ok, he could go, Mama and Daddy understood.  We'd be ok.  We'd make it through.  He could let go when he was ready.  We would be fine.  We knew he had fought so hard.  We were so proud of him.  He didn't need to fight anymore - it was ok... we loved him.... we would always love him.... he would always hold a special place in our hearts...

I still cry at night.  I still ask why.  I still think it's unfair.  I still miss him so, so terribly.  When I visit him at the cemetery, I know he isn't there spiritually, only his physical body - his shell.  But I still want to curl up next to him and cry.  I feel closer to him there...

It still feels so wrong that they make caskets so small.  And that the tiny ones come with a teddy bear.  It's so wrong that they dig holes so small.  And make headstones with dates so close together.

I know we cannot understand why God chooses to call our loved ones home with him.  I know we just have to trust that He has a plan and reason for everything.  I just have to believe that He knows what He is doing, and He knows what is best for us, even when it hurts so much.

Breathe easy, Little Warrior.  You fought hard.  You made us so proud.  Mama loves you so much.  I miss you more than you could ever know.  I know you're watching over us. 

I love you, Baden.

~Baden Scot~
~November 11-November 20, 2011~