Mason should have been born today. Or yesterday. Or last week, or tomorrow, or two weeks from now. I know babies always come on their due dates, right?
I know it shouldn't be a huge deal that today is today but my heart feels the heaviest it has since the last time I held his little body. It's almost like my body knows it, too. I am tired, achey, and irritable. My arms hurt- they feel so very empty. I didn't plan to remember today, but mamas just don't forget things like this.
I don't really have much to say- I am just so sad. But I did want to write a little about him for his day.
This surprising boy. I didn't think it was even possible that I could be pregnant with him when I found out I was. Then, we truly believed he was a girl from the beginning. His pregnancy was so much like his sister's.
I was sick and I could only enjoy a few foods. My middle was growing fast. I was feeling him move sometimes. And it felt good. He brought with him feelings of expectation and security. I was believing that we would bring a baby home this month.
But then I was laying there on the table, trying to erase what I had seen out of my mind: a still heart. My baby was not moving on his own accord. And there was no longer life inside me.
So I called my husband before I even sat up and I told him what I saw and he told me he'd be home soon. (Thank you Red Cross & U.S. Army for getting him home THAT night).
Two days later on May 19th, I was induced. At 9:50 p.m. we were shocked when this little boy was born to us. He weighed only one ounce. He was 4 3/4 inches long. His fingernails had already reached his fingertips. His nose was his dad's. Ryan's only words were "Mason Gregory" and then he was blessed by the chaplain. I'll never be able to replicate the sounds I have made when I've held my children, realizing they had died.
We spent time with our son until the next morning. We got fingerprints and footprints. We held him close, and then after meeting with the geneticist, allowed him to be taken from us. We went home shortly after that where we were loved on by our friends and family with meals and cards and flowers and scripture and prayers. And somehow, we lived. Somehow, I'm still alive. Looking back on these moments it's such a wonder to me. How I can go on living when my children don't get to is just beyond me. It isn't fair. It IS more than I can handle. God has handed me more than I can bear. I am so thankful that He bears it for me.
Today we'll be going to see the movie, "Trolls" because Mason's size was closer to the troll doll comparison on my fourteenth week of pregnancy than the canary comparison on my fifteenth. Again, the bird is always a symbol for me that my children are safe and he was winking at me before I even knew.
We'll eat some spicy food- I'm thinking buffalo wings since that was his favorite flavor.
We'll be picking up a quilt made by a sweet woman using his baby blankets.
We'll light his candle and take out his pictures. And we will remember all the joy he brought us, even if he only stayed a little while.
I wish I were holding him today- a big fat baby that filled my arms. I wish I were singing "You Are My Sunshine" to him again. I wish I could feed him, rock him, and be up all night with his cries instead of the nightmares that remind me that I can't do any of this.
Today should have been his birthday every year for a very long life. Instead it is another missed due date for me and another day to honor a baby that isn't here. I can't explain how much I miss him and can't wait to hold him again.
