We rested and reflected, and wrote fearing that we would forget everything that happened. The whole week has been a blur, especially the past 24 hours. We want to remember, but maybe it is better to forget? If they didn't draw blood so often or attach Janette to an IV, our stay at the hospital was like a hotel vacation: room service, and we had no kids to take care of. Janette's health wasn't significantly improving the first few days, but we were in no rush to go home.
The outside of our room's door had a picture of an old leaf with a tear on it to warn people that we had lost our baby. I noticed a very white rectangle surrounded by a faded border and some torn paint on a wall; they thoughtfully removed the "checklist for your baby". The baby next door cried all night. There is something painful about being in the maternity ward without a baby, seeing families come with joy or wait with anticipation, moms pushing their bassinet around, the cries of a newborn... but at the same time there is sense of healing, we also had a baby too, we belong here.
The nurses and doctors were all kind and sympathetic towards us. Most did not know details of the past few days, just that our baby was no more. There was a doctor that came in early in the morning to check on Janette. She said few words to us but what she said was comforting and sympathetic. We knew she cared. There are no magical words for people to say to us, we don't even know what is most comforting, but those who acknowledge our loss and pain even for a moment brings a sense of affirmation that we are feeling and going through is real and is okay.
The kids visit once a day. Sadly they were afraid of Janette and her IVs, but the allure of the buttons on the hospital bed was too much. We tried to explain to them that Mui Mui was no longer in Mommy's tummy, but with Jesus. I'm not sure how much they will remember from all of this. This is the longest we have been apart from them, I hope they are okay.
They prescribe some medications for Janette to take at home and we are finally discharged. I never thought it would be so hard to leave. We both broke down. It was as if we were leaving her behind or came out empty-handed. We sat in the car, crying and praying.
Goodbye, Odelia.
Are we ready for the real world?
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
- Revelation 21:3-4
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