Owen was beautiful. He was big for his gestation. 3 pounds 3 ounces and 15 inches long at just barely 27 weeks. He had long thin feet like K. He had my father’s nose and my husband’s eyebrows. He had a tiny bit of the dark wavy hair J had been born with. I unwrapped him and examined every part of his tiny body; his long fingers and tiny penis, his perfect ears and miniscule toenails. I noted the places on his feet and legs where his skin had already begun peeling. I was in love with all of these things. He looked peaceful.
As the hours passed, JD and I took turns holding him and kissing him, whispering to him, and trying to memorize his tiny body. We had a lifetime of parenting to squeeze into those hours. We cried a lot but also laughed some. He had hairy shoulders just like his dad.
Soon, some of the physical changes that accompany death began to take place. I took a blanket and wiped away the fluid that began to leak from his nose. I remember the nurse was distressed by this and offered to take him then. But I wanted to care for him. I knew it was my only chance.
3 comments:
Ashleigh thank you sharing your story and your little Owen. I'm sorry that he is not with you. It sucks! (((Hugs)))
What a beautiful baby boy. I'm so sorry he is no longer with you.
I am so sorry for the loss of your gorgeous baby Owen. I know what you mean about needing to take care of him, I held my son for hours and had to continuously wipe his little nose and lips. It didnt bother me at all, it was the only time I would have to actively parent him.
Your Owen is precious :)
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