I remember the nurses wheeling you into your CCU room after you recovered from your g-tube placement and you looking at me and giving me that glorious smile for the last time...
I remember being on the phone with your home cardiologist when your SATs began to drop.
I remember hanging up on her because they kept dropping.
I remember the room filling up so fast that daddy ended up on the other side of the room as I held your hand and watched as you screamed while they tried to get your oxygen levels back up.
I remember collapsing in your daddy's arms as they wheeled you over to the CICU for an emergency chest tube.
I remember your neurologist grabbing my arm telling me it was just another bump in the road.
I remember the last time I held you before it all went so terribly wrong. The nurses begged the phlebotomist to let me hold you- saying mom can calm him down, let her hold him.
I remember holding you-rocking you back and forth- not knowing at all what was about to happen to you-because if I did, I would have never ever ever let you go.
I remember hearing you make noises in the room and asking an attending to come check on you.
I remember the code. I hate that monotoned woman's voice.
I remember dropping to the ground sobbing-screaming 'IT'S HAYDEN!'
I remember holding your hand as three sweating nurses rotated their compressions on your tiny, white lifeless body.
I remember kissing your head and watching them wheel you down the hallway having no idea what was happening and if you were going to die. I had never been so scared in my entire life.
I remember the surgeon come tell us she fixed your heart. Now we worry about your brain.
I remember feeling so hopeful. SO So hopeful.
I remember while waiting to go see you, browsing Facebook seeing everyone change their profile picture to your picture.
I remember feeling SO MUCH LOVE and support at that moment. I just knew you'd make it through.
I remember walking into that pod and seeing a baby who looked nothing like my baby.
I remember waiting all day Wednesday for you to show some brain activity.
I remember being moved into a private and not seeing the signs that you were dying.
I remember an attending who became a friend telling us she had never seen a Glen-baby recover from seventy minutes of compressions.
I remember walking over to you, as to prove her wrong, singing to you, talking, holding your hand, talking about Jackson- then looking back to Rob hoping he saw some brain activity on the EEG.
I remember him shaking his head no, and thinking for the first time ever that you were probably really going to die. That my sweet baby was going to die.
I remember visiting our heart friends in the CCU and her asking me if I believed your soul was still here- and answering her 'no'.
I remember meeting in the conference room with your neurologist- the same one who 36 hours prior had told me this was just another bump in the road- and him telling us there was no brain activity and there never would be.
I remember walking back into your room and laying on your bed with you. Drowning out everything around us. Listening to our music and just touching your hand and head- going far far away from that hospital room and picturing us somewhere else.
I remember my best friends coming in and helping me make some irreplaceable keepsakes and at one point realizing my chest was tingling in pain- I needed to pump milk for my child who was about to die.
I remember our family getting there and it all becoming so real again.
I remember the doctors and nurses moving you- and all your tubing and ECMO canullas, your wires, all of it- just so I could hold you alive one last time. And so you could take your final breath in my arms.
I remember thinking it should never be that difficult to hold your child.
I remember our family and best friends surrounding us as the chaplain who also baptized you just five months before was now helping us say our final goodbyes and sending your soul off to be with Jesus in Heaven.
I remember them pulling the plug. Your lips immediately turning blue. Tears falling all over my face. Thinking how in the hell is this happening right now?????
I remember trying to find the beauty in being the one person who watched you come into this world and now was watching you leave it. Like the mother tries to in Steel Magnolias. But I couldn't find anything beautiful about you dying.
I remember locking eyes with Rob as the doctor removed your breathing tube.
I remember thinking how tired and aged he looked- so full of sadness and defeat.
I remember thinking in that moment that when we started this life together this was the last thing we ever thought we would have to experience together.
I remember holding you for 6 more hours as several doctors, nurses- what felt like everyone on that floor and the CCU had made their way to say goodbye to you-and to us.
I remember the awkwardness of saying our final goodbyes to your care takers who most had become like family to us.
I remember walking out of that room and turning back one last time as your nurse held on to you with tears in her eyes and a half smile on her face trying to pretend everything was going to be alright.
I remember collapsing outside of your room sobbing- being picked up by your daddy and nurses.
I remember the pain in my chest and body as I, for the first time, walked out of that hospital and rode all the way back to our home without you in the back seat next to me.
I remember getting home and soon after getting a text from our favorite nurse who had just landed from vacation asking 'How's my little buddy'.
I remember her screams and cries on the other end of the phone- just as confused as we were as to what happened.
I remember the morning of your funeral. Waking up, putting on the same black dress I wore to my grandmothers funeral a few years back, thinking I can't possibly be getting dressed for my sons funeral right now.
I remember sobbing so loud twice in that funeral parlor that I could actually hear myself echoing.
I remember the first few weeks and months feeling my body go in and out of numbness, the pain was just too great for my body to bare.
I remember wondering if the ache and deep pain in my chest would ever go away.
I remember through all of this- the three days leading up to your death, the week planning your funeral, the first few weeks and months after you died, and even now...I remember the love and support we were and are given by people near and far- people all over this world.
I remember....and I will never forget.
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