On Thursday night my beautiful Bobby and my sweet Rosalyn both got very sick at the same time. The chief neo was called out of bed to attend and he worked valiantly through the night to save them both. Rosie was diagnosed with respiratory distress and a possible infection. Bobby was diagnosed with a perforated bowel and scheduled for emergency surgery the next day. The details of Friday the 14th will haunt me for the rest of my life and are much too close to my heart to share. I will share this that I wrote Saturday:
"We are at the hospital. Bobby went septic around 2:00. It progressed very rapidly. At 2:45 or so they woke us up. We were given the choice to unplug and let him go quickly or leave him as is and let him take his time. I felt distinctly impressed that he wanted to hear my heartbeat one last time, and that was what he had been fighting for; the opportunity for us to do comfort care without having to be subjected to emergency responders who would have prohibited my ability to share those last sacred moments in his life. He was scared of dying on the operating table without his mommy. We unplugged him, swaddled him, passed him to daddy for kisses. Then I held him on my chest, sang him his favorite song, and let him hear my heartbeat until he slipped peacefully to sleep at 3:15 a.m. on the 15th of June. It was peaceful and beautiful. They had given him medicine so he felt no pain."
There is nothing left that I am capable of saying about my son right now except for this: when I was pregnant I could feel Rosie. I knew her as a person intimately the way only a mother can. For many months, however, I could not feel my little Robert, which made me very sad. One day I was inspired to pray to have the privilege of becoming acquainted with him. Upon finishing my prayer a feeling came over me that I can only describe as the sun exploding with joy and I heard a voice say "I love music!" It was so jubilant that it took my breath away and then made me laugh. That's Bobby. Think of the purest, happiest, most joyful moment of you life and you'll understand who that boy is.
This morning, driving to the hospital to spend the day with Rosie, three songs came on the radio in this order:
I will miss my son until the day I die, but I know that he is not really gone. Some way, someday we will be together again.
5 comments:
I love your entires family! I hope your sweet boy is dancing in Heaven! We continue to pray for you all and that Rosie will continue grow strong
Thank you far sharing something so special and so sacred with me as your little boy and your love for him. As always, love and prayers to your family and an extra hug from me to you.
My heart aches for you and your family. There are no words that can touch the feelings involved in losing these precious little ones. I pray that you will find comfort in the gospel. Thank you for sharing these intimate experiences and thoughts with us. Sending my love.
Cami, I'm crying reading this, both from the heartbreaking news and from the sweet, sweet spirit of what you wrote. We have been and will be praying for you and your little family every day. We love you!
I just wanted you to know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers daily. I pray that you and your family are finding comfort, and that Rosie is continuing to grow and improve in health.
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