Today I was thinking specifics. Specifically what happened after Xavier actually passed away.
About a month and a half ago, several things hit me all at once. Xavier died in some other babies clothes, hand me downs from Sick Kids NICU, and I didn’t remember what happened after he died.
I struggled most of the day and the thought kind of left me until my cousin came over that weekend. We were sitting looking at his pictures with my beloved. I stopped and looked up at her and said “Where did Xavier go after he died?”
My cousin M and my beloved looked at each other than looked at me. She said, “Well he went down to the serenity room in Labour and Delivery.”
“I know” I said, “but how did he get there? I remember the nurse came in to check his heart rate, he was on my chest, and there was nothing left, but I don’t know what happened after that.”
She told me that after Xavier died, I passed him to my beloved, and someone came in and gave me a sedative. I never saw him again.
WHY??? Why didn’t I continue to hold him? Why didn’t I keep him with me that night. All those hours and I could have stared at him. Help bathe him. Have someone bring me an outfit that was his. I could have cuddled him, and rocked him and kissed as much as I could…a lifetime squeezed into a few short moments.
But I didn’t, and I regret that. Everyday.