All we ever wanted was to have kids. After three and a half years we were finally blessed to be pregnant and we couldn't believe it! We were shocked and excited and slowly started preparing for our baby. But at 19 weeks, something went suddenly wrong.
My husband and I rushed to the hospital to find that I was already starting to dilate. The doctor put in a rescue cerclage (cervical stitch) and started talking about decisions. Whether to terminate, or try to get to the age of "viability," or maybe we could make it to full term. On ultrasound the baby was healthy and growing perfectly, but my body was not cooperating. We knew we wouldn't terminate this long yearned-for baby; instead, we hoped and prayed and had faith we would bring him home.
The next 10 days were the worst of our lives. In and out of the hospital with complications and finally, the dreaded news. I had a uterine infection and my body could no longer keep both of us alive. We would have to deliver what we now knew was a baby boy.
So, on a lonely Sunday night in April, I was induced. At 11:07 p.m., our 10 1/2-inch, 7-ounce son slipped from my body quietly. The silence was deafening as I held my Bryson and examined his beautiful face, tiny hands and perfect toes. When our time with him was up, we traded our lifeless baby for molds of his hands and feet. It was heartbreaking.
The minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years that followed have held grief, pain, tears and sadness. But they have also held healing, hope, service and lifelong friendships. I have been privileged to facilitate pregnancy and infant loss support groups, reach out to loss families, and run the New Hampshire Chapter and Western Colorado Chapter of The TEARS Foundation. As a volunteer with this beautiful foundation, I have had opportunity to emotionally and financially support families after the loss of their beautiful babies.
Bryson will always be our son. His life will always have meaning. And we will always serve others to honor his memory.