Thursday, January 28, 2010

Mason's Story-Aftermath part 3

After I returned to the funeral home I went back into the viewing room and saw Mason again. I thought I was all dried up from the first visit, but the minute I saw him I broke down again. I held his hand, stroked his cheek and just cried. After 20 minutes or so I was all cried out and exhausted. It had only been two days since I delivered him and I was still bleeding profusely. I also had not eaten in over three days. I had taken a pain pill to manage the pain, but I was still so weak and tired. I started feeling weak from everything and so I moved a high back chair next to his casket and just curled up in a little ball. After awhile my mother came up to the funeral home and tried to talk me into going home and resting. She promised to stay with him, but I just couldn't do it. If someone told you that you only had until eight o'clock with your child and then you would never see them again, would you be able to leave? I am by no means trying to say anything bad against my mother. She had a double pain. Not only was she seeing her grandchild lying there, but her own child pale, weak, weeping, broken-hearted and slowly sinking into themselves from grief. My mother has told me that it was the hardest thing she has ever had to witness. She just wanted me to rest.

When I wouldn't go home, my mom just pulled up another chair and sat with me. Occasionally she would get up and lay her hand on Mason lovingly and then sit back down. Word had began to spread that I was having a viewing. Friends, church members, and coworkers began to arrive. Most people were there just to support me. A lot of them were uncomfortable with the idea of a baby viewing, but I appreciated their support none-the-less. One co-worker's wife had made me a very nice picture that had a poem and Mason's name on it and I treasure it to this day. One church member walked up to Mason touched him gently and declared him beautiful. Just perfect. That meant so much to me. He did not look like your average newborn. He was tiny, his eyes were closed, he was bruised from his breech birth, and his skin was translucent. He was beautiful to me, but to have someone else declare that was so special.

The moment that touched me the most was when a dear family friend came. She was my daycare provider when I was little and is just a strong, kind woman. She came in, wrapped me in a hug, and then went to look at Mason. Her eyes grew damp and then she leaned over and very gently kissed him on his forehead. I was so touched by this outpouring of love that I broke down again.

The day seemed to go by way too quickly. As evening fell, my anxiety began to grow. By around seven I was an emotional mess. I had asked my mom to go home earlier in the evening so that I could just touch him and weep and have that time with him. My cousin had come to sit with me, but I asked for alone time again. I finally called Jake and begged him to reconsider and come see Mason. I was so worried he would regret it if he didn't. He reluctantly came. When he walked in the room he broke down just as I had, but then just reveled in the sight of his son, drinking in the image of his face. We sat there together and just silently spent time with him. Eight o'clock came and we had to leave. It was so hard. I felt like I was leaving a piece of my soul behind. I went home, drank some juice, turned down food, took a pain pill and blissfully let sleep numb me for awhile.