by Deborah Allan

Created on: July 29, 2010   Last Updated: July 30, 2010

Unfortunately, my family had to deal with the loss of a baby, a still born, just this past weekend. Nothing in this world can prepare you for the loss of a child, and no body can tell you how much it will hurt. It's an amazing hurt that you can't even imagine, and there is nothing you can do about it.

My brother and sister -in-law lost their second child this weekend. The baby was full term, and was healthy until the day before labour. The sheer horror we all felt when we found out the the baby had died, can't even be explained. But, the worst was the hours leading up to the actual birth of the baby. We were all at that hospital for hours on end, knowing that the parents needed the support, and none of us wanted to leave the hospital, because deep down we all thought that the doctor's were mistaken. We all believed that once the baby was born, he would take his first breath, and he was going to make it.

We were wrong. And the moment that Charles was born, was the worst moment in my life. I am just the aunt, and if I can hurt this much, how can his parents ever get through this? When the father came into the waiting room, with tears and pain in his eyes, and announced that baby Charles was here, and he weighed in at 5 lbs, we knew it was only just beginning. The father called us in one couple by one couple, and my husband and I went in, the room was lit by a little light over the bed, the mother cradling her dead son, tears streaming down her face, and her unable to talk. My husband turned around and went out of the room, his grieving brother going after him, saying "just look at him, you won't ever get the chance to do it, you don't want to regret this."

Baby Charles was only a few hours old, and his cold lifeless body lay in my arms, and I could not let him go. He was beautiful, and I could see his mom and dad's features, and I was broken. I had never cried so hard, or held so tightly to a child in my life. I kept rocking him, somehow thinking that I was comforting him in some way, but maybe I was just comforting myself. I had to let him go, and the nurse took him from me, and I never saw his precious face again.

The weekend flew by, with making funeral arrangements, running errands, picking up flowers, and shopping for appropriate funeral attire. The wake was hard, but it helped us all understand that we could cry, and talk about him, and grieve for him along with every one else, and somehow it was easier knowing we had a huge support system. The funeral was tough, but now that its over, and we have had a few days to reflect, we are all trying to find our own ways to come to terms.

Baby Charles' parents have his picture on a shelf with his toys and a few trinkets from the hospital. My husband and I have made an anonymous donation to a local charity in his name. This makes us feel like he lives on, with a purpose of sorts. The grandparents have his picture by their beds, and all of us talk about him frequently.

His tiny grave lies under a huge tree. Its funny, that I think its a good place for him, he will be protected in winter and shaded in the summer. The only thing left is to put a solar light by his headstone, because no baby deserves to have his light turned out, and it kind of makes me feel at ease, that once the sun does go down, he will have a light left on for him. Don't think I'm crazy, i know he's already with God, looking down at all of us.

We love you Baby Charles, rest in peace, and we will see you again. Keep our seats warm and leave the light on....xoxo

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