After the most exhausting day of my life, both emotionally and physically, I was unable to sleep. I tried sleeping pills and pain pills, but nothing could touch my heartache and give me the peace I needed to close my eyes. At four in the morning my nurse tried yet another drug and I was able to drift off for a few hours. I awoke at six and tears immediately began to stream down my face. I felt shock, I had to remind myself why I was there, and why I was crying. I had no words, just tears as they did more blood work and took my vitals. I just stared out the window. I felt like all I did for a week in my quiet moments was stare off into space, unable to focus on anything.
My mom had spent the night with a scared Hackett who know knew that Koen was no longer here. He is not used to being away from his mommy, and when he is, it is something that he is prepped for. He wanted to see us. So my mom got him ready to come to the hospital. He chose his own clothes that morning, his "Big Brother" shirt. He told my mom that he wouldn't be able to wear it much anymore so that was why he had chosen it. We knew he was coming, so we requested any personal care items they could bring us. We were not packed, we were not ready to deliver our child. All we had was the clothes we had worn to the hospital. They didn't have much, but they did have baby powder. We used baby powder to freshen up. Hackett is a sensitive soul and I was worried about him. When he walked in I pulled it together and smiled. I let him play with the buttons on my hospital bed. Then we hugged and he said "Mom, so Koen is dead right? He died?". My mom was trying to be sensitive in her explanation, and Hackett needed me to confirm his understanding of this situation. I looked at my 6-year-old in his "Big Brother" t-shirt and said "Yes, buddy, Koen is dead".