I can not sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep for the past two weeks
I feel like I’m being strangled
Why did it have to be me?
Why did I have to lose you?
Everything was perfect. Your conception to your birth. Perfection.
I must admit your conception was heavenly. As in the act. And also the timing.
Everything was ready for your arrival. Your father and I were financially, emotionally and physically ready for you.
I had been working out and taking my vitamins for three years. I was so ready for you.
The reception to me being pregnant with you was overwhelming. Your maternal grandparents came over to celebrate as soon as I gave them the news. Your paternal grandparents bought a crib the next day!
I had fun being pregnant with you. The morning sickness and weight gaining meant nothing to me.
All I knew was I had you in me. my firstborn baby.
Your father loved you so much he wished he was pregnant with you instead. He kissed you every morning before he left for work and every night before he fell asleep. Watching him paint your room blue was heartwarming and every day he bought a new toy you might like.
Yes, we knew you were a boy! We couldnt wait till your birth to find out your gender. Your father didnt want to say it but he was beaming with joy you were a boy. His firstborn son to carry his name
It was a perfect love story. We had the most fun when I was pregnant with you. Your father even took me dancing when I was eight months along with you! And he doesn’t even dance!
Then it was time. One beautiful, glorious Saturday morning, my water broke. Contractions set it. You were ready to come out and we were ready to see you!
Labor and 4 hours later, you popped out your beautiful head. My little Kwamina greets the world!
I held you in my arms and your father held me in his and stroked your little head. I savored every minute of the love flowing in the hospital room. I fed you and held you close to my face. Your father cradled you to sleep. Then the nurse took you to the nursery.
I was finally a mother. Your mother. I was going to love you till you cried “enough”. I was.. I was..
I was tired. I slept. I woke up. You were brought to me to be fed. I fed you. I placed you on my chest. I loved you.
The following morning I woke up as the happiest mother on earth. The resident nurse came in to check my vitals and I was fit. She then went out to get you. I waited and waited, she wasn’t coming.
You weren’t coming. Then I caught a couple of nurses stealing glances at me.
I felt the blood drain from my head.
I got up and headed out of my hospital room, and as I came out of the door, the resident nurse met me and held me. I screamed for you and she told me to calm down. I knew something was wrong. I kept screaming.
My son, my son…………………….
I fainted.
I woke up in my hospital bed to find your father standing and looking out the window. He sniffled. I felt an upheaval in my abdomen.
I asked for you and your father held me in his arms and told me we lost you. You died from lack of oxygen as a result of mucus buildup in your windpipe. You had a cold way too early for a newborn.
We lost you.
That’s what hurts the most. We didn’t even have you for a week.
I sobbed quietly in my bed every night since that day. Your father tries to console but I know he’s hurt too
My little Kwamina, I’m thinking about you
I cant sleep. I lost you.
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