and for a few moments he was just Will.
The day before Will died
we dressed him in white
and promised him to a god I was uncertain existed.
Still, the thought of him leaving this earth unchristened was too much to shoulder
so the nurses dressed him in satin and lace -
a donated gown for occasions such as this.
The beauty of him broke my heart.
I needed him to belong to someone -
if not to me
then someone (anyone, please, don’t let him be alone wherever it is he was going)
so I promised him away to the universe.
He opened his eyes, when the doctors said he wouldn’t.
He stared right at me
straight into me
and for all the world I wanted to pick him up and hold him.
Instead I asked my husband and my friends the impossible.
I asked it of my family too.
I asked them not to give up on him
even though I already had.
I feel so sad when I think of that moment -
hope and heartbreak all rolled into one sliver of time.
The next morning we dressed him in blue denim overalls and a blue striped shirt
and turned off all of the machines that were keeping his tiny, damaged heart beating.
We held him between us, David and I
and for a few moments he was just Will.
Beautiful and whole
but he didn’t open his eyes even though I wanted it more than anything else.
Even though I begged the uncertain god.
Even though I wished it.
I wonder if he felt us,
our heat,
our love.
Surely, a brain functions at a basic level right up until the very last moment
and touch
and warmth are so primal,
so instinctual.
I tell myself that he knew -
that he didn’t die alone.
When the photos came back to us
every photo of Will that was taken during our mother-father-baby union
had a distinct green – yellow aura.
The colours of healing and freedom,
the colours of release.
My father cussed and rolled his eyes
telling me it was a glitch in the camera
and that I was being illogical
but I knew that was his spirit letting go
and his way of telling me that he felt that we were with him
and that we would all be okay in the end.
October 9th – 15th is remembrance week for all babies lost to miscarriage, stillbirth and neonatal death.
Lighting a candle, continuing the wave of light, for all of the angels
and remembering my own.
Sending love. Thank you…for everything.
Just Will. How precious
A new mom, I feel such overwhelming love and sadness reading your post. It is something so deep and profound and so, so strong. I have never felt this in me before the birth of my son. My heart goes out to you…
Firstly, my thoughts are with you during this time. I can relate all too well, unfortunately.
It seems your post is sending me a message that now is the time to tell my 7 year old twin girls that they had an older brother, who would have turned 8 in September. At 26 weeks, it was discovered that I had an incompetent cervix and after 48 hours in the hospital with them doing everything they could to make him stronger (and my life at risk as well), he was born. Initially we thought he would be ok, but it was discovered he had a brain haemorrhage and there was nothing that could be done. He was with us for a week and it was the most heart-wrenching time one could ever experience (as you very well know). Three months later, I got pregnant with twins.
I have been waiting until my girls were old enough to share the story and photos of their brother Tyler. I have a photo of him on my bookshelf and one of my daughters asked me yesterday who was that (I just said we’ll talk about it soon). I’ve been thinking for a while that the time was right and that they are old enough to really understand. Your posts about Will have been inspiring me as it’s time to acknowledge and remember in a positive way as a family, and not to continue to keep the memory buried deep within, as my husband and I have been doing for the last 8 years.
Thank you for inspiring me by sharing your life’s journey, no matter how rough and crappy it can sometimes be.
Just Will…..in your lives for just the briefest of moments………..but in your hearts for a lifetime to come.
Big hugs to you & shared thoughts for ~Will~ & for my ~Alex~ & ~Thomas~
Oh, Katrina.
Thank you for sharing.
That means so much.
I’m going out on a limb here but I think he did know, Tiff. In the way that babies do know the ones who birthed them. He heard you from the inside for nine months and he knew you were there with him when he had to go.
Love to you all. xxxx
Thankfully I have never been in such a place as this but when I read your words I feel it. I work in palliative care and for what it’s worth, he knew. I truly believe it. x
Of course Will knew and still does, how could he not?
His spiritual presence will never leave you, you & David were his life’s blood, he knows no other. William will be with you always.
Cherish the memories. xoxo
Precious Will , of course he knew.
I am sure he knew you were there holding and loving him, he was beautiful.
So much love to you and all who go through this. And all the angels. Will’s photographic aura was what stood out for me. Freedom , release, and a legacy of love forever. <3
How amazing for him to look right into your soul. This is precious for you.
I nearly lost a child and it affected me for many years so I can empathise with your family.
xo
i love that the photos had the yellow-green aura, showing that William was ready to go and would be healed when he got there.
You write so beautifully about what must have been the most difficult time imaginable. Lovely. xxx
It’s a bittersweet week this week, watching my friends remember babies that never came home. Love and light. (Will was beautiful. I love that the photos have an aura.)
this is beautiful. thank you for sharing it. tears.
You give pain such beauty with the words you write… over and over again.
Tomorrow I am attending a celebration of life for a sweet little boy who passed away from a heart condition, Andreas touched so many people in his short life and your William did and continues to do so. I am grateful for parents like you who share their deeply personal stories despite the pain, I admire the strength that you have and the love you continue to spread.
I will be thinking of all the babies who didn’t get to come home, all the parents who have empty arms and the people that love them both.
much love xxx
Of course he knew. Will was a beautiful boy. I see Ivy’s eyes in his.