Hey Mama, I Remember (A Letter for International Bereaved Mother's Day)

Hey mama, I want you to know I remember.

I

Hey mama, I remember.
I remember the moments before your world shattered, when your arms and heart were still full...and I remember how helpless I felt when I watched you leave with them empty. 

I remember crying in the bathroom and cursing in the ambulance bay after I had to bear witness to the worst moment of the worst day of your life: the day you found out you'd be planning your baby's memorial service instead of picking out their Christmas presents or their birthday cake. 

I remember moving wires and machines and IV poles so you could crawl into bed with them and bury their head in your chest one last time. I remember searching desperately through their belongings-- trying to find a driver's license or anything really with a name and address and phone number so we could call and tell you to come quickly--- as it became evident that "Jane Doe" to us, a lifetime of memories to you, wouldn't be coming home tonight.

I remember how my arms burned and ached from pounding on their chest, begging them to breathe One. More. Time. Just for you. I remember turning off the IV drips one by one, each a horrible countdown to the moments before you knew. I remember holding their hand until the only sound left in the room was the sound of the clock ticking; the one thing---time---that would forever separate for you "before" and "after". 

Whether they were 2 or 42, Mama, I remember---your screaming, your color-drained face, the cold, hard floor where you collapsed in front of me because no mother---not one---deserves to bury their child. I remember how brave you were taking home that tattered, cut-up t-shirt and favorite pair of jeans or hauling a wagon filled with their tiny belongings on that unbearably long walk to the parking deck...ALONE...knowing you would give anything---even your own barely beating heart---to have it filled with their presence again. 

I remember these will forever be the worst days of my career---and when people ask me "What's the worst thing you've seen?" I will forever tell them it was the two of you together one.last.time.

So brave mama when it's been weeks and months and even years and you feel like your baby has been forgotten, like there will never be a sacred pause to honor the moment your life changed forever and you learned for the first time that broken hearts still beat even when you don't want them to, I remember. And I honor you.

Love,

Your Baby's Nurse

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International Bereaved Mother's Day is observed the week before Mother's Day. To the broken-hearted Mamas marching on after burying their child, I salute you. 

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