February 7, 2017. It was cold outside but not terrible. I was wearing my black pregnancy leggings, a green top and tennis shoes. My hair was long and straight with my make-up on just enough. I remember getting out of the car in the parking lot, the wind hitting my face, and walking what seemed like forever to those hospital doors. This is the day you entered this world, took your first breath, while at the same time taking my breath away and expanding my heart beyond comprehension. I am so very grateful for this day 6 years ago.
I remember waking up early, jumping in the shower, and feeling you in my belly for one of the last times. I was nervous, anxious, excited, scared and ready all at the same time. My best friend, Taylor and I made small talk all morning. It felt like the slowest morning, ever. I had to be at the hospital at 10am. I was snappy. Unfortunately, when I am stressed, I can be a little impatient and irritable. One of my many flaws - I am human. We drove to my parents' house, dropped my best friend off and continued our way to the hospital. The staff was so sweet. They walked us through all the steps and processes. They could tell I was nervous. I am sure they are experts at dealing with anxious soon-to-be parents. I felt like we sat there in the pre-op room forever. I have never needed to use the restroom so much in such a little amount of time, which was not easy being hooked up to all the monitors and IV's. My parents, brothers, aunt and best friend got there about an hour before surgery time. We all sat around and talked, they made jokes to try to preoccupy me, and just waited. And waited. And waited.
All of the sudden it was "go time" and there was no holding back. The nurses and staff work feverishly to get me into the operating room in what felt like two seconds flat. My head was spinning. In one moment, I was counting down the minutes and seconds then all of the sudden I needed them to slow back down. We got to the operating room and they had me walk in and helped me onto the table. It was so cold. It was time for my spinal block. Oh, do I hate needles. I followed their instructions and within seconds was back lying on my back with Taylor by my side with my physician (at the time) already standing over me ready to start cutting. There are parts of this history I may get into a little later.
Within minutes George Bennett was here. 7 pounds 1 oz and 19 inches long. He was not happy. I was sick. Sick. Sick. Sick. They held him over the blue drape and I fell head over heels in love. I was so happy but at the same time so sick. My head was spinning, I was nauseas, my blood pressure all over the place. They took Bennett to the warmer to do all of his checkups. He had an eight APGAR score but was having difficulties regulating his breathing because he swallowed some fluid. They labeled him a "wimpy white boy". Taylor followed Bennett to the NICU while they finished stitching me up then wheeled me back to my same pre-op room. I did not have any time to process what was happening. I was alone. I was still sick. I was confused. Is this what being a mother is? All I wanted to do was close my eyes. I was so sad I had not been able to see or hold Bennett yet. I was sad I did not have my phone to text Taylor. The nurse walked in and asked if I wanted her to get my family from the waiting room. I told her in a few, I wanted to close my eyes. I do not like feeling sick in front of others. I just thought "maybe if I close my eyes for a second, I will feel better and I can go see Bennett. I don't want to talk right now" I am not sure. But, in that moment I wanted to be alone. I am not sure for how long but eventually I got a picture from Taylor and eventually my support system was there by my side. They had already seen Bennett. I was so happy about that. I did not want Bennett to be without one of us.
It was time for me to go to my room. They took me to see Bennett first. Gosh, he was absolutely perfect. He was so big compared to the other babies in the NICU. These little precious babies tucked tightly away in their incubators. Families surrounded them, reading stories, talking to each other, and talking to their sweet bundles of joy. I could tell some were very sick and that broke my heart for their parents and family. Bennett was a screamer. His nurse laughed and let me know he had a good set of lungs on him. He seemed to settle when I touched him. Then, it came out of nowhere. I was going to throw up. I looked at someone and said, "I have got to go before I throw up on my baby!" I was embarrassed to be sick. So, back to my room I went where I stayed until midnight. At midnight I was given the all clear to wheel down to the NICU. My best friend helped me into my wheelchair, wheeled me down and sat there with me and Bennett for hours. I am so grateful for this midnight rendezvous. When I look back at my life, this moment will forever be engrained in my memory. I was able to hold him, comfort him, change his diaper, and just soak him in with no chaos except the constant beeping of monitors. They were actually soothing. He was perfect. I studied his sweet face, memorized his smell, snuggled him into my chest and was so thankful to be his mother. Over the next day, I was never in my room. I got sick of my wheelchair and would just walk down the halls constantly to the NICU. My nurses would call the NICU looking for me, I was always there. Then Bennett came to my room. Watching my husband, parents and brothers hold this sweet baby made me so proud. It was blissful.
I was thankful. I was a mother. I was Bennett's mother. From that day forward, I am Bennett's mother. His earthly existence does not change that. He taught me love. He taught me patience. He taught me resilience. He taught me and he helped me grow as a person. He continues to do all of those things. Every single day. His ability to continue to help me through death is undeniable. I will never regret one second of his life. I will never not want those almost 16 months to be a part of our story. He is Bennett. He is my first born. He is the one who made me a mommy.
It is still hard to believe it has been six years since he entered our world. Since he changed our world for the better. In one thought it seems like yesterday and in another it feels like a totally different life. A fractured life. I woke up this morning in tears. It is not fair that I do not get to see my son grow up. I do not get to see him go to school, play sports, be a big brother, turn 16, graduate high school, apply for colleges, have a first love, get married, and have children of his own. I feel so robbed. I feel pity - For myself. I would love to be planning his big dinosaur or sports themed birthday right now. But, for Bennett, I know he is wrapped in all my love. I know his heavenly celebration is way bigger than anything I could provide him here on earth. That doesn't help the pain or the sting. I would provide him happiness and love here too. It's a struggle I continue to deal with. It's a struggle that I believe will never go away. So instead, today I will talk about him all day to his sweet little siblings, we will visit him and have balloons, we will wear our sloth gear, and I will give him a birthday party. We will be surrounded by people who do not even know him except through my words. I am so thankful they continue to support our family and show love to Bennett.
Today, on his sixth birthday, Bennett has given me the strength, bravery, and courage to share our story. To share his story. To share how to live with child loss, how to support those going through child loss and to also bring awareness to child loss. Hopefully our family and story can make an impact and give some insight into this grief journey and how we continue to live with the moments we have left here, until we see Bennett again. He will continue to change the world - I know it.
Remember to be kind. You never know what someone else is going through. Pain is hidden so often. Be kind. Spread joy. Share love. Show compassion. There are so many moments in our life, no matter how small, that will provide the biggest impact on our future.
So, ...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BENNETT! Mommy, Daddy, Brynn and Beckies miss you and love you so much. Stay close to our hearts today. Thank you for giving me the bravery to share our story. You are so special, kind, and important. You will never be forgotten, and you will always be our Angel Baby.
“Whenever there comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there forever"- Winnie the Pooh
Krysten
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