If finally hit me last night...

After weeks of just going and focusing on other things, worrying about this and that. I'm burying my child. The first I gave birth to, who was alive...who was put through hell. When I finally had that chance to lay down to try and get to sleep that's what flooded my mind. I started crying. Those days in labor which I had no clue about really. His prolapsed cord, pushing through no contractions and him actually being born. Seeing him on ultrasound that last time to check progress with my pushing. NICU grabbing him to try and stabilize him to bring him upstairs to the NICU and me hearing how his heartrate is low and how it keeps dropping. I knew as soon as he came out I would loose him. And when he was born I started bawling...because that was it. NICU came down a short time later and said this would be the time to pull support because he isn't responding well at all. So we went up to see him, we decided and that was that. We held him, family held him and he was gone. They told us he was pretty much in a coma...he didn't respond to anything physically. He was born August 16th at 2:48PM and was gone by 5:20PM. I remember having him brought to our room and just having him lay next to me on the bed...he looked so sweet and peaceful. He looked so much like my husband. I can say, I am glad he held out as long as he could inside me to give his sister a chance at life, and I know he's watching over us all.