I posted last week about my friend Susan and her little boy. She was admitted to the hospital and placed on bed rest.
She reached 23 weeks yesterday and went into labor. She spent the morning upside down, hoping for a miracle. I was hoping for a miracle with her. I spent the day with my phone in my hand, hoping that it wouldn’t make a sound, because I was taking no news as good news.
I don’t remember what time it was when I found out Matthew had arrived. Susan said they were working on him, and Dave and I held vigil on our couch. We cried and we hoped, but we knew the odds weren’t good. We didn’t want to be pessimistic, but we didn’t want to be naive. I kept looking at my phone to make sure that I hadn’t imagined everything.
A few hours later, she let me know that he had passed. She sent me his picture, and he was beautiful. Heartbreakingly beautiful. Perfect.
If I could take Susan’s pain for her, I would. I am unable to comprehend what she is going through right now. I want to do something, but I have no idea what to do. I feel like all I can do is keep telling her that I love her and hold Matthew in my heart. I know she’ll get through this because she’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s just so unfair.
I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. I’m just rambling because I don’t know what else to do.
Rest in peace, Matthew. I loved you from the moment I knew you existed and I will never forget you. I will do whatever I can to comfort your mommy and daddy.