Dalun & Sam.

I’m finding myself feeling much like our weather today.  Grey clouds with scattered showers and secret glimpses of a blue sky and a bright sun.  My heart is filled with a grey heaviness, my tears scattered throughout my day and my hope lying in the moments of peace where my son finds me.

I’ve been following Dalun’s story since his Mama, Erin, found out she was pregnant.  I watched her share on Facebook as she faithfully prepared for his arrival.  I glowed at the sight of his nursery, so perfectly decorated in elephants.  For some reason, she was one of a few pregnant women I never ‘unfollowed’ on Facebook or Pinterest.  Our love for elephants drew me to her and now our tiny elephants share an unspeakable bond.

Last night Erin became a loss Mama. 

From the moment I found out about Erin’s emergency c-section and against my better judgment I always had hope that maybe Dalun would be different.  Maybe he’d survive.  Maybe Erin would be exempt from my pain.  I curled into a ball and sobbed last night when I learned otherwise.  I waited until my husband fell asleep and carried my body into our bathroom where I dug my head into a towel and sobbed.  To say that I crave understanding as a loss Mom is an understatement.  But to say that I’d ever want anyone to experience the depths of my sadness just isn’t true.  Erin deserves better.  Dalun deserves life.

Twelve days ago I reached out to Dalun’s beautiful Mama and gave her my unsolicited advice.  I’d give it to any Mama, over and over again.  I told her if I were holding Sam in my arms again I would take more photos, I would take videos, I would bathe him and dress him as much as I felt like. I’d do skin to skin if that’s possible. I would bring some of the things she had so faithfully prepared for him from her house to his room in the hospital. I would make time for your closest family to meet him and take photos with him. You should just hold him as much as you can. Tell him how much you love him. Read to him and record it. Tell him stories about his mommy and daddy. Just be present and don’t feel selfish for having time with him with just her husband.

Time is after all, something we never get back.

When I found out she had made the decision to take Dalun home, I felt much like I do today.  An array of emotions falling out of my body without much control.  Joy that he would know his room.  Happiness that Erin could rock him in the comforts of her home.  A pure love that their families could surround her new family in the place exactly where they belong.

After learning of Dalun’s passing I reached out to Erin’s Mama who responds in the midst of her own tragedy and says, “Erin said she told Dalun to tell Sam his mommy daddy and grandparents love him very very much.”

In his soul Dalun carried an irreplaceable gift from this life to the next.  Sam knows if he didn’t already.  Sam knows because of Dalun’s life how very loved he is.

Erin, I know Dalun and Sam have met.  I know Dalun delivered my heart’s innermost desire to tell Sam I love him.  I know they’re celebrating life in ways that we don’t understand.  I know how painful today is.  I know how your arms ache.  I know your emptiness.  I know what’s ahead.  I recognize all these things and I grieve with you in the most intimate way possible.  I know you will never be alone.  I know I will always love you.  I know Dalun will always be loved.  His life matters and it always will.

Dalun is forever yours and you are forever his.  He’s breathing easy and until the day where we can hold Dalun & Sam again, I breathe with you.

My chains are gone

I’ve been set free

My God, my Savior has ransomed me

And like a flood, His mercy reigns

Unending love, amazing grace.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow

The sun forbear to shine

But God, who called me here below,

Will be forever mine.

You are forever mine.