One of the many reasons I decided to start blogging was to answer questions. Sometimes, some days, and with some people, I want to talk, share, pour my soul out - but other times I just don't. Talking about the day of Koen's death is difficult, but it is also the day of Koen's birth. It was the only day we ever saw, touched, snuggled, kissed, hugged, talked, and Kev even danced with our Koen. I replay the day over and over in my head. They are the only memories I have and will ever have of Koen. I don't want to forget a minute. There will be no "firsts" that I get to celebrate and note, no late night feedings where I can rock and sing to him, no tears to wipe away, no bedtime snuggles with sweet conversations ... no more memories. I feel like I have told the story of that day so often now, that I have found a rhythm and can make it through without tears. That bothers me. It bothers me, because I want to feel the pain, sorrow, and even joy of that day ... we met our son, even though we were never able to watch him take a breath. Please ask me questions, because the truth is even if I don't want to talk about it at that moment, I do want to share - the joy and the sorrow. This blog will also give me a place to share and to fill in the blanks of the story.
We still have questions ourselves about how this happened. We have some answers, but with those answers there comes more questions. I feel like even when we learn why Koen died we will never truly know "why". I am trying to come to terms with that "why" and hope to share it in a later post. We are also seeking out help to answer the medical questions as to why, and when I feel ready I will share some about that as well.
Another question of many of yours is what do we need? We need your continued love and support. We need you to be there for us. We need you to check in - even if you feel like you are bugging us, because reaching out is hard right now. We need your prayers. We need your patience. I feel like I am existing quite well to provide normalcy for my Hackett, but I am not the same Jackie I was just over a month ago. There are just so many feelings to sort through and something small can trigger my grief. I thank you, our family and friends, for showering us with love, and walking alongside us.
I am Jackie.