I feel like writing about my little Nicoda -- although writing is so bittersweet. I want everyone to know how precious he was and how perfect, but writing about it just reminds me that it is real.
On January 5th, I went to the hospital because I was worried about Nicoda not kicking and on January 6th, Nicoda was born stillborn at 31 weeks. The doctor said it was a rare disorder that made the placenta not provide Nicoda with enough oxygen as he got bigger. They kept assuring me that this would not affect having other kids and I just wanted to scream at all of them that I was not worried about other kids...I want my baby boy. My Nicoda Shaw. I got to hold him for hours afterward and it was so easy to convince myself that he was just sleeping. I mean he was perfect! All his precious little toes and fingers and a full head of hair. But they had to take him away and reality had to set in that God had given me the most beautiful gift and then ripped it away. God allowed me to feel such joy of him growing inside me and then allowed all of Khalid's and mine's dreams to disappear.
Now instead of my beautiful baby inside me, I just have despair and anger. Never in all of my life did I imagine that I would have to plan a funeral and place my baby in the ground. Never should a mommy have to kiss her baby and place him in a coffin. Never should a daddy not be given the chance to hold his son. Never should a human heart have to withstand this type of heartbreak and pain.
The funeral arrangements took what felt like forever to plan and was shocking for myself, Khalid, and my family: all the little details and the cost. It was a good distraction for a week though and then the funeral. The home was set up so beautiful with Nicoda in his bassinet. He was dressed in a little green giraffe outfit and we put several of his giraffe stuffed animals with him. He also had his Royals jersey and a Royals baseball from his papa. The home was decorated with his precious photos and so many people came from my work and from churches. I could handle all of that, but then I had to ride with Nicoda to the cemetery and thats when I went cold inside. My little boy in a box, in the ground -- instead of inside of me or in my arms. I feel like the worst mom in the world -- I couldn't protect my baby and now I have left him alone in the ground. There are not enough tears or words to describe how broken I am. Not enough days in this lifetime to make me forget Nicoda or to ever stop missing the angel who touched my life in such a big way.
So now I have new prayers -- ones that you can help by praying for me as well. "Father God, teach me to embrace my grief and not fight it, so that I may experience the true healing that comes from You. Carry me in your arms until I am able to walk again. Amen." My other prayer is not for myself but for my heartbroken husband..."Father in Heaven, hold Khalid in your arms as he searches for meaning. Draw him closer to You and to me. Let him experience such peace that he can not deny it is from You. Amen"