There is a thank you note that I have been wanting to write for seven months now. I even bought a card, separate from my regular pack of thank you notes, one that was really special and already said some of the things that were in my heart. It’s still sitting in a folder because it’s taken me this long to find adequate words to express my gratitude.
This letter is for the people who were on the front lines for us, ready to defend us against the real world after the death of our baby boy. This letter is for our amazing hospital staff. I decided to write this publicly, because whenever I’ve talked about the experience of losing our son, I’ve ended up talking about our doctor and nurses and how wonderful they were. Especially the first few weeks when everything was hazy and painful and I didn’t know where to start talking, I’d talk about these angels who had watched over us in the hospital those first few days. I know that saying “angels” sounds pretty dramatic, but aren’t angels the people that God sends to us in our darkest hours to hold us up?
So, to my angels.
I would love to name each of you and tell the world exactly what you did for me, but the truth is I spent a lot of that time drugged and blurry eyed and everything kind of runs together. But I can say that from the time that we learned that our baby had no heartbeat to the time we left the hospital, and even since then, you held our hands and carried our sorrow with us. You cried almost as hard as we cried. You took pictures for us that we will have as priceless treasures to remember our Robbie. You knew exactly when we needed a hug. You pulled up chairs and talked like we had been lifelong friends. I couldn’t believe in the short time we had been there that I got to know many of you and felt as though I’d known you my whole life. It’s strange to me sometimes to think that in one of the most intimate times of our lives, we were surrounded by strangers, because none of you ever felt that way to me. Recovering from surgery would have been hard enough on its own, but you helped me with the physical healing process, as well as getting us on our way towards emotional healing. You were my first grief counselors. You shared your personal experiences and advice. You empathized with our loss and made me feel like maybe it was going to be possible to survive and to keep being a mother despite the enormous hole in my heart.
Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done is to let my little baby’s body be taken away from me, even though I knew his spirit had already left. Nothing about that was easy, but I knew that you would treat his body with the utmost reverence and care, and that helped me to let go. You treated Robbie as an individual and recognized him as part of our family. You gave us the answers we needed in the kindest and gentlest way possible. You anticipated our needs and gave us the perfect amount of privacy and attention. I honestly never wanted to leave.
Even after we went home, you continued to check on us and be"on call" if I needed to talk or needed medical advice. I have looked forward to my doctor appointments and every time I have come home telling everyone I talk to how amazing you are.
Josh and I have been wanting to sell our house and move for years now, but I sincerely believe that God has kept us where we are in a large part because of Robbie’s birth. Because of where we live, we had neighbors who could come in the middle of the night to watch our kids, parents who could be with us immediately, and we had you. I believe that God put each one of you in our path. You helped us take the hardest experience of our lives and turn it into something sacred. I feel blessed to still be in contact with a few of you. I know that your jobs are not easy, but I hope you always remember how important you are and how much you have touched our lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment