Wow this day is here. I cannot believe its been 4 years ago that we lost our sweet baby boy. I am always surprised in a way how close to the surface my emotions are on this day. I have pretty much been a bawl baby all day long. But its okay to cry.......
In the past few months I have decided that this little boy was meant to be Collin. If he would have been born on time and healthy that's what his name would have been. Both of our boy name choices with Mckenna and Callie were Collin. So I believe with all my heart that his name is Collin Russ Dewolf.
I am so grateful for the time I had with him. I am grateful that he is my son. I am grateful that I know the plan of salvation and that my family has been sealed together in the temple. I am so grateful to know that one day I will have him and hold him in my arms.
Still after 4 years I am filled with so many regrets and I am still so angry about some things. I am mostly angry about the things that happened after his birth. I am angry that not only I wasn't educated on the proper "etiquette" of what to do with a stillborn baby, but the medical personnel wasn't educated or didn't think to do those things that would have aided in my closure of losing him.
I am still so extremely upset that I didn't take him and hold him, rock him, and love on him for as long as I wanted to. Why didn't we name him or bury him?? Why didn't we take pictures of him, his tiny feet and hands?? Why didn't I get foot prints, hand prints, or molds?? WHY WHY WHY...... This is a source of unending torture to my soul. I am so MAD!!!!
Since I have absolutely nothing to even prove he existed, except for my sweet ultrasound picture that was taken about 4 weeks before we lost him, I have grasped onto other things to help me remember him. I have a beautiful picture of Christ holding a baby and my favorite quote of all time by Elder Holland:
I have beautiful Willow tree figurines, 2 handmade teeny tiny crocheted blankets, a handmade crocheted beanie that would have fit his precious little head perfectly, a Molly bear that is true to size, a hankie, a crocheted angel, and a few other small trinkets. These beautiful treasures are made for free by wonderful women donating their time and talents to help broken hearted mothers heal. I find myself drawn to these items and wanting them for my angel. I need something tangible to know that he existed.
This is the reason why I started making small blankets and donating them to the hospital. I do not want another mother to ever walk away empty handed ever again. I do not want any other mother to feel the void I feel by having nothing to remember my son by.
There are days, like today, that I cry and cry because of it. I cry because I miss him. I cry because I wished I had a picture to look at or a blanket to smell that he was wrapped in. I am secretly afraid of forgetting what he looked like. I think I will just die if I ever forget his small perfect body.
But I have to focus on the positives. I can't let myself stay in that dark place for very long, or I may very well go crazy. I am so blessed to have 4 healthy children. I am so extremely blessed to have a loving and supportive husband. A husband who will hold me while I cry and join in with me, even after 4 years. A husband who sends me flowers on our angels angelversary just to tell me that he loves me and lets me know he cares. How truly blessed I am.
It has been a lovely day despite our loss. Per tradition we all sat down and wrote letters to our angel. The kids were so excited to do it. Their little notes were absolutely precious. We tied the notes to our blue balloons and went outside and let them go. We all stood around and watched the balloons float up up up and out of sight. We all cried (except for Mckenna who was trying to figure out why we were crying). Then we all sat around and talked about him and had a lovely chat about the plan of salvation. Perfect ending to a tough day.
I love you with all my heart little man.
.jpg)
