The part I left out of the birth story:
When we arrived at the hospital, the calm nurse who led us to our room looked at Matt and said “where do I know you from?” (Matt is much more recognizable than I am. I am a regular looking brunette person of average height.) Matt looked at me and I looked back at him, wanting him to answer. So he told her “we were here last year when we lost a little baby.” The nurse then remembered us perfectly and gave us both hugs. We were in the same room. Right after this, I went into the bathroom by myself to change and broke down into tears for a minute or two. Then I kind of pushed all those feelings aside for the time being because I had work to do.
While I was getting into bed and getting hooked up to the monitors, the nurse was telling me that she remembered it perfectly now. She said “I was standing there and he (Matt) was standing there.” And she was right, that is exactly how Luke was born. She said that she’d move me into a new room as soon as she could, since she figured I wouldn’t want to be in the same room. I told her that I didn’t mind, that it didn’t bother me, and I wouldn’t mind having a happier memory in the same room. (Also, ahem, it’s the big room of all of the labor and delivery rooms.) It ended up not being possible anyway, since I delivered so quickly, none of the other rooms were available yet.
So Luke and Ryan were born in the same bed. And there have been any number of times that I have stopped myself from calling Ryan by the wrong name, calling him Luke…
{ 25 comments… read them below or add one }
Hugs and love to you, dear heart.
Big hugs, Jen.
This is lovely.
You have a very special, fierce strength. Love to you.
Hugs to you.
Aww. So bittersweet.
Big hugs to you, what a conflict of emotions at a time when everything is so heightened. I’m glad you had a nurse who was sensitive and tried to take care of you.
You are amazing.
I think that is a nice full circle and I would have stayed, too.
Luke is remembered and missed.
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Ah, honey. What a bittersweet coincidence.
Oh, Jen. It’s so awful and wonderful.
I’ll add my hugs. Plus, my tears of sadness for Luke and tears of joy for Ryan.
Well said Julie. Something I’ve often thought. Love you Jen.
Oh sweetie. Big hugs to you.
Oh my gosh I got chills reading this. Luke was there looking out for Ryan (and Matt and you).
Such big hugs to you, Jen.
This makes me think of that post that Mel wrote about location casualties, and you took yours back. I think of that post often.
You are amazingly strong–well done all around.
Oh, Jen, the circle of life….bitter and sweet, and you, strong and loving through it all.
Tears of happiness and sadness at once. Love to you guys.
Oh. Hugs, Jen, to you and Matt.
Sweet and heartbreaking. I am teary for you.
oh wow. xoxo So bittersweet, the stories of your boys.
This post brought tears to my eyes. Sending hugs to you
I love that the nurse remembered. I had a similar experience when my daughter was born in August 2012. The nurse I had when Jacob was born came to see us and one of the nurses I had with Emily said that she remembered hearing about Jacob. I was two rooms away from the room he was born.
Here from the Creme. What a sweet post. When we found out that we were pregnant after the loss of our son, we switched doctors, hospitals, everything. I wanted a fresh start, but I can see it from your perspective too. What a healing moment to have your second son born into the same space your first son was born into.