He looks peaceful but I don’t see him in his face. I see him in the lights. The florescent lights, the ones in the hallway. He follows me into a dark room. He is there if I need him and I turn on the light switch. If I need rest he let’s me turn the light down. But he is not gone. He is among us, watching.
I pray he feels no pain. I pray the his angel wipes his tears if he is sad and does the things I should be doing but cannot.
I told the nurses I want to do as much of his care as I can. I want to still change his diaper, wipe his boogers and wet his lips. I am mom. He still needs me.
It’s hard when I don’t seen him in his face. I don’t feel like I need to be at his bed to be with him. This vessel is empty. He is here. I can feel him in my chest and I see him in the lights.
Leave a light on for my Owen, just in case. Maybe leave a light on when you go to sleep or even when the sun is shining. Don’t the light switch off just yet.
We will know so much more when he warms up. We are keeping him cool in hopes that his brain will recover. So we honestly have no idea. He could make a recovery. He could make a recovery that is better to let go.
Tuesday at about 4:30am we will start the warming. There will be someone from the medical study parked in our room the entire time, every step of the way. Then they will run tests to see if he is brain dead or not. 2% chance. But still a chance.
My prayers are for Owen’s comfort. May he feel the warmth of other’s prayers as I do. Let him hear my voice. Most of all let him hear that I will be ok. I don’t know how yet. But I don’t want to be a reason for him to stay. I want to support his life … Even if it’s his afterlife.
Owen your mommy loves you. Your daddy loves you. Your brothers love you. Your grandparents love you .. Aunts, uncles, friends, your godmamas and goddaddys, church, nurses, doctors, neighbors, strangers around the world love you. Feel the warmth of their prayers. Be not afraid.