Gratitude

My beloved Kerian,

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I had peaceful happy thoughts about you all day. I was grateful (and surprised) to have felt really good; not as sad as I had anticipated I would be. I did have several moments of missing you, and wishing you were with us, but overall, I made it through the day feeling pretty good because I have so much for which to be thankful.

Darling boy, I am thankful that pregnancy lasts nine months even though our experience was so hard. It was nine months of knowing you were there, in my belly, safe, and alive. I could feel you kicking and moving, and I could put your papa’s hand, or your brother’s hand on my belly and they knew you were alive and well, too. And for those nine months, your papa and brother and I could enjoy the anticipation of meeting you.

I am also thankful for the doctor at my OB/GYN’s office who had to move my appointment from Friday, August 12 to Wednesday, August 10. If she hadn’t decided to take the day off on Friday, then I would not have been in her office on Wednesday, August 10, when your heart rate dropped so dangerously low. She sent me to the hospital to have you immediately delivered. So your papa and I were able to meet you, and spend 13 wonderful days at home with you, and one more week reading stories to you in the PICU. I feel so lucky and grateful to have met you at all, because had you not been born on August 10^th, there is a good chance that you would have been stillborn.

How could I not be thankful for all of the doctors and nurses in the PICU, who worked so hard to save you, and who clearly were emotionally invested in your care? Dr. F. used adoring adjectives to describe you…he used “cute” one time, and “adorable” another. I was amazed he could see that through all of the tubes and wires. On the Saturday of your PICU stay, your father and I walked into your room just as Nurse G., whose back was to us, was talking softly to you—we heard her call you sweetheart. And oh, sweet boy, that did my aching mother’s heart so much good, because we weren’t allowed to stay overnight with you, and when we arrived that morning and heard her call you sweetheart, I knew you had loving care while I was at home at night.

I am grateful for the funeral director at the funeral home we chose in our state of blinding grief. We had such great fortune that he turned out to be an empathetic man, who gave us excellent advice and helped us create exactly the beautiful tribute we wanted for you at your memorial service. Without his assistance, there were several elements of the ceremony that might not have been, such as the viewing. I had wanted it so badly, but could not bring myself to put you in a coffin. He offered a “Moses basket,” and he let us bring your own flannel baby blankets from home to line it so that your body would be presented in a warm, sweet little nest.

I am grateful to all of the friends and coworkers who came to your memorial service. And to all of the people who sent us sympathy cards. Those cards helped us through some of the most excruciating moments of our lives, and even now, three months later, I still go through them from time to time and read the kind words and heartfelt sentiments that people took the time to write to us.

I am also thankful for the social workers and other people at the hospital who worked so hard to help your papa and I create the little memorial bookshelf in your name, in the PICU at the hospital where you passed away. It was so helpful for our healing to be able to donate books that other parents can read to their children in the PICU. And that will be an ongoing source of gratitude for me, because we will continue to make donations over the years.

I have a special call out of gratitude to the friend who has sent me “baby’s first” cards. She sent one at Halloween, and one for Thanksgiving, and I cried as I read them, and I shared them with your father, who also got choked up. That she thought to do something so tender and dear is a marvel to me—she has no children of her own yet. So I am deeply thankful to her for that special knowing that she has, that knowing that a bereaved mother of an infant still thinks about baby’s first everything. Friend, if you’re reading this, you know who you are—please also know how much I love you.

Lastly, my sweetest angel Kerian, I am just thankful to have ever known you at all. Your life with us was so short, but such an everlasting blessing. The only thing I would change would be to give you a perfect heart and have you come home with us. But as your papa says, the book of your life was already written when we created you—we just lived out your life paragraph by paragraph alongside you. Though you were ripped from us far too early, we would do it all again, exactly as it happened, just for the privilege of meeting, knowing, and loving wonderful you.

I love you Kerian,

Maman