It is with the heaviest of hearts that I write this post. I shouldn’t be writing this. I should be writing a celebratory, happy post about new life and all of it’s glorious potential. Instead I’m writing to let you know that on thursday September 25th we found out that our third little boy was gone.
It was a thursday, much like the thursdays in the months prior. Ronna had gone in for a regular appointment and we were set to deliver in seven days. The routine for these appointments has been pretty simple. Get checked in, pay the bill and go to the back for a sonogram. The sonogram tech is the same woman we had with both of the boys so we have quite a rapport with her. Ronna and her immediately knew something was wrong and it didn’t take long to realize there was no movement and no heartbeat. It was then that we found out he was gone. At this point we didn’t have any answers to the obvious questions and we wouldn’t get those answers until we delivered. The hardest part was yet to come – the delivery. We had already elected for a C-Section and were advised that we needed to go through with it as soon as possible so surgery was scheduled for later that afternoon. Surgery went well and that’s when the doctor discovered what he believed caused the death. Hudson was a very big boy – 11 pounds 8 ounces to be precise – and he had an abnormally short umbilical cord. When the doctor pulled him out the cord was loosely wrapped around his neck and we believe that’s what caused him to pass. Even with the grief of knowing we would be leaving the hospital empty handed, he was perfect. He was a chubby little angel like his brothers and he looked just like Tucker. They would have had such a good time together. He would have made the perfect addition to Sawyer and Tucker’s rendition of “Mammas don’t let your babies…” We got to keep him with us in the hospital for the next 12 hours or so while family and friends came and went. It was difficult to see him in his little crib, lifeless but at least we got to see him. I stood over him and waited for him to take a breath and look up at me like his brothers once did. With tears rolling down our cheeks we said our final goodbyes on Friday morning and allowed the nurses to take him away. Never in my life have I felt a greater pain.
It hasn’t gotten much easier since that day but, with the help of family and friends, we’re getting by. People have already rallied around and showered us with love. So many people have been involved it will be hard to thank everyone.
For anyone interested in attending the service, it will be on Tuesday at 11am at Turrentine Jackson Morrow in Allen. Though this is a graveside service, we want to welcome anyone who would like to join us.
“Those we have held in our arms for a little while, we hold in our hearts forever.”