December 27th 2014

Every time I sit down to write this post, my fingers stay frozen on the keyboard and my mind is blank. I long to convey the smallest portion of my heart, but my words are inadequate.  My heart is overflowing with unspoken emotions. 

I fear it will burst.


December 27 2014

I press his warm body next to mine and hold him tight. The end is close. So close.

Tyler calls Brigham and Lucie into the room to say goodbye. They slowly come in and my heart feels so heavy. I don't want to say what we have to say. I don't want to be here in this moment. But sometimes we have to do hard things we don't want to do. So we tell them that it's time for Will to go home. We tell them he gets to go be with Molly and Sam. I say the words. I hear them coming out of my mouth, but it doesn't seem real.

The five of us sit together on the bed and take turns telling Will how much we love him, how much we'll miss him. We all sing lullabies and cradle him and stroke his hair. We cry and kiss and speak words of love. We talk about our favorite memories with him and laugh, then cry again. Then it's time for me and Tyler to be alone with our sweet one. We don't want Lucie and Brigham in the room when he passes.

The door closes behind the kids as they leave. The sound of Will's labored breathing fills the bedroom and I suddenly feel as if my lungs can't get enough air. I hold him closer and nuzzle my nose in his neck. I breathe in his sweet smell and wish I could freeze this moment forever. I suddenly can't take it anymore and ask Tyler to turn on some music. We turn on The Lamb of God by Rob Gardner and I instantly feel better. There is a sweet peace in the room and I imagine all of the angels surrounding our warrior to welcome him home.

He fights to the end. Every last breath.

And that's who Will is. He's a fighter. He's our warrior. But, as one of Will's nurses said, "sometimes little soldiers get tired, and that's OK."

So we tell him it's OK. We tell him that Mommy and Daddy will be OK. We hold him so tight and whisper to him, "It's Ok to go. We'll see you soon. It's OK to rest."

As he takes his last breath, he lets out an adorable classic "Will yawn".

And then he's gone.

I look at our baby who has just been welcomed by so many loved ones, and I think he's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. My chest hurts with the love I have for him. Coupled with that love, is the love I feel for the One who has made it possible for us to be with Will again.

I try to hold onto this peace, this light surrounding us as we hold our baby Will. I know we'll be with him again.

I know it.