If I had Known...

It's 7:30, shift change at the local hospital NICU.  They don't allow visitors during this half hour to hour window of time.  The nurses and doctors need time to exhachangr information with little interruption.  Medical jargon that would only cloud a NICU parents head.  "Go home" the nurse said, "get some rest."  "He's stable now."

Logan was scheduled for surgery the next day at noon and I was still recovering from my emergency c-section.  I did need rest.  We had spent the last 48 hours holding our breath and the latter 24 hours praying my dad and sisters would make it in time from NC....to say our goodbyes.  To let him go.  We didn't want him to suffer.  We were going to make "the decision."  

And then he stabilized.

The doctors thought surgery was the best option.

We cried, we discussed, we prayed, we let go.

And then hope was rebirthed with "surgery" on its coat tails.

So we left.  We needed to be resed and strong and ready to hope and pray for this miracle surgery.

Logan needed his rest.  

We slept.  

Until the call came.  Just after 8:00 am.

My heart stopped and started simultaneously.  Something was wrong.

"Come to the hospital, quick."  "His heart slowed, we gave him epinephrine to give you time to get here."

We got dressed, hearts heavy, barely time to brush our teeth and no reason to care if we did.

Longest 40 minute drive of my life.

When we arrived there were doctors and nurses.

"We had to give him a second dose..."

"He's not going to make it..."

"Do you want to hold him?"

.....why.....why had I not stayed?

If I had known I would have never left.  I would have waited out shift change and stayed by his side.  I would have soaked up every inch of him, touched him, talked to him...or maybe just sit and sleep...by him, near him, never missing a single heartbeat with so few left.

I was lucky enough...(ha, luck)...to make it in time to hold him.  I was lucky enough to to get an hour and a half with him, talking and singing, before his heart stopped.  I was lucky enough to be the last face he saw and voice he heard.

I never heard him cry.

I'm so thankful I at least got to see his eyes.  

Knowing the end result wouldn't make this easier....but knowing would have given me more time.  I'm not sure how to let go of that.

Fours years later, so much good and inspiration has come from my grief.  But 4 years later, I still relive the emotions, the nightmares, the breathtaking heartache I felt the day I left that hospital without my son...for all the days I walk this earth.

*forgive typos, blogged from iphone*