Ransom and I were shocked to find that there were no shuttles on the weekends so poor Ransom had to run (literally) to Seattle Children's to pick up our car and drive it back to me.
When we arrived to the NICU, we were escorted to a new room. After Jonah's brain shunt surgery, he had been transferred to a private room for easier nighttime monitoring. I remember as we headed deeper into the NICU we heard the loud screams of a baby. My heart hurt for that baby until I recognized that it belong to Jonah... then it ached! We walked in just as his nurse was trying to calm him down with medicine.
My poor baby looked awful. He was naked except for his diaper and had huge white bandages on his head and stomach. He was obviously in pain and it was all I could do to watch.
But as Ransom and I spoke to him, he caught our eyes with his and calmed down. Back to his peaceful self.
Soon I was finally able to feed Jonah. I wanted more than anything to breastfeed, but his doctors needed to monitor the amount. If you remember from this post, the feeding did not go as well as I had hoped, but the bonding I was able to share with Jonah soon afterward made up for it in so many ways.
As I continue with my memoir of Jonah's days on earth, I now find myself at a crossroad. I can write about the next several hours in two different lights: the heartbreak and shock or the unbelievable closeness to heaven that few get to experience. I feel that I've shared enough of my feelings of sadness surrounding this day.
Jonah was not meant to live a normal life. He was not meant for longer that the 55 hours he was given. He was needed in heaven. And more than I felt any other emotion on the day of his passing, I felt so strongly that I needed to let him go.
His room became a haven for us. It was honestly like heaven had consumed it to make Jonah's transition that much easier. For those few hours, neither we nor our families could tell if Jonah's spirit was inside his body or not - I think because heaven was in the room.
When it was time to say our final goodbyes, the only tragedy we felt was our being left behind. We were relieved for Jonah, proud of Jonah, happy for Jonah. He had turned out to be every parent's dream. Perfect.