Things I never thought I could do…
…give birth to my first born son, knowing that he was never going to breathe, open his eyes, cry, smile, or come home.
…explain to my three-year-old that her brother has gone to Heaven.
…watch my three-year-old hold and kiss he brother’s lifeless body.
…hold my son and give him back to a nurse only to never see him again.
…love a person more than life itself yet never met them face to face.
…sign permission for an autopsy on my son’s tiny, little body.
…walk out of the hospital I gave birth at with empty arms.
…walk an unknown cemetery with a purpose.
…choose my son’s final resting place and make sure there is room on either side of him for mommy and daddy to join him.
…fill out cemetery papers for my first born son.
…pick out clothes and objects to bury my son with.
…write instructions for a mortician to prepare my son’s coffin.
…meet with a pastor to discuss my son’s funeral plans.
…decide on biblical readings to be read at my son’s funeral service.
…wait at the cemetery for my son’s arrival in a tiny white coffin.
… sit beside my son’s coffin.
…sit through my son’s funeral service.
…help my husband carry our son’s tiny white coffin to his final resting place.
…watch my husband place his tiny white coffin in his crypt.
…watch my husband place a blanket over his first born son’s coffin to ensure his warmth.
…place family pictures, a bedtime book, and a doll from his sister in my son’s crypt to ensure his comfort.
…back away from my son’s open crypt knowing that this is my last contact with him ever.
…watch cemetery workers close my son’s crypt.
…see my family’s name on the mausoleum wall with my son’s name and birthday beneath it.
…leave the cemetery and my son behind.
…explain to my daughter why we visit “Sam’s Park”.
…explain over and over again what has happened to her brother.
…raise my daughter at a mausoleum.
…wake every morning.
…go on living without my son.
…hold on to what little faith is left in the God that allowed my son’s creation and death.