Oct 5, 2013
This one is the hardest for me. Since the birth of Ronan, I haven't looked at pictures of Nolan for fear of comparing my two sons. This is the last memory I have of my precious Nolan. I kept him with me for as long as I could in the hospital knowing that once they took him away that reality would really set in. I know it was silly, but in that moment having him in the room with me even as still as he was, it brought me comfort. This was our family and this was the best it was going to be for awhile. I cherished my time with him. The nurses helped me bath him for the first and only time I would ever do it and helped me dress him. I had knitted him a hat which I put on him to have his picture taken. We had him christened, cut a piece of his hair off for a keepsake and held him in our arms for as long as his little body could stand the touch. He was my baby and even though I knew I must it was torturously painful to say goodbye to him and to ask the nurses to take him away to the funeral home.
This new reality was such a stark difference to the immense happiness we felt throughout the entire pregnancy. From the moment we learned we were pregnant, to the day we found out we were having a boy, we were ecstatic. Everything was just perfect. Even the nursery we had put together for him was simply perfect. I never imagined our perfect little family would be ripped apart before we could even hold our baby boy in our arms.
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