Jasper would be 3 years old today, August the 22nd of 2016. As I’m writing this, I can place myself back in time to July 2013 when everything was perfect and set for our happily ever after. Jasper loved fresh vegetables. I could eat them all day long, breakfast lunch and dinner. He loved the heat. I never could stand the heat the way I did when I was bursting, huge belly pregnant. I can’t stand the heat now either. That was all him.
He was with me when I graduated college and I remember how excited he got when the music was booming throughout the auditorium. It was almost as if he was tapping his feet to the music. He loved music. Whenever we were in the car together, the music was up and I sang to him. It was pretty much his graduation too. He attended the last three semesters with me, after all. I know he would’ve liked art and art history as much as I do.
He was never as excited as he was when the Doctor Who theme music started playing. We started watching Doctor Who in the early days of our pregnancy during the winter break of 2012. Especially towards the end, he would squirm and roll around when the show came on. That was always special.
Jasper was due on August 17 which is his father’s and my wedding anniversary. When his dad announced our pregnancy, he said that he “already had the 10th wedding anniversary gift picked out.” It was something we had waited a long time to experience and he could not keep it to himself from the moment we learned we were pregnant.
We spent that August 17 waiting for him. We went to a pizza and salad lunch and had a walk around an out door mall. It was in the 100’s that day as the summers of Las Vegas tend to be. I remember the looks I got from people suggesting sympathy and amazement at my gigantic belly. You wouldn’t hear a complaint from me about it. We were blissful and excited and very ready for our little boy.
The days that followed started with getting his amazing hand painted Lorax bedroom ready for him as we cleaned laundry, cloth diapers and bed sheets and ended in complete terror when we learned our baby’s heart had stopped and we wouldn’t be bringing our baby home in the way that we had planned.
My husband, Jasper’s father and my mother, Jasper’s grandmother bathed him when he was born. He dressed him. He brought him to me. With tears in his eyes, he handed me our son. Our real baby; the baby we wished for, planned for and prepared for, the baby we cared for and talked to and nurtured. He handed me our lifeless son.
As new parents, we did not bring home a bouncing baby that screamed, poop and ate. We did not have to plan for late night feedings or birthdays or any of the normal things that other parents get to. We planned a cremation. We picked out an urn and memorial necklaces. We planned a memorial. With great care, we planned what we would surround our son’s urn with and how we would preserve his memory. We earned our mother and father titles and we carry them with pride, mostly in silence.
We’ve never been religious people and while I accept and appreciate that religion brings comfort when people lose someone they love, I am positive that this would never have worked for us. Our choice has been to keep him alive in our hearts. We remember him. We talk about him. His urn is tucked away in a mini TARDIS. If you are unfamiliar with Doctor Who, this will mean nothing to you but it means a great deal to us. He’s the boy in the blue box. He can be a Time Lord. He’s alive somewhere on our timelines even if we can’t see him or hear him. He mattered. He still matters. He made us parents and even if others don’t see that we are parents, we know it. He knew it. He will always be our baby and we will always be his mom and dad. Always.
They knew they wanted more children and have since suffered many early miscarriages during the process of multiple IVF and IUI cycles which have left them with broken hearts.Feeling defeated and alone, the bereaved parents moved to Connecticut in search of a much needed new start.
Amber was inspired to work towards becoming a therapist during her process of trying to find support after her loss. She is currently a freelance graphic designer, artist and marriage and family therapy graduate student. She takes comfort in the idea that their son was a driving force for her to help other people through a time that she and her husband felt so alone.
- On Being Too Sad To Support Me In Celebrating My Son. - April 9, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors III: The Letter - January 26, 2018
- Therapeutic Endeavors Part II - January 24, 2018