Kennedy Ren Forsythe – Part 11 ~ 5:17 AM

October is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness month.  Unfortunately, many of our heart families walk this impossible road.  Help-A-Heart wanted to share the story of one of our heart angel families this month to help raise awareness.  Thank you to Nate & Emily Forsythe for writing & sharing the story of their precious daughter, Kennedy Ren Forsythe.  Nate & Emily are the proud parents of Kennedy & Oliver (age 1).  This is Part 11 of 11.

5:17 am

We raced to her PICU room.  We were welcomed by a sea of somber faces.  We knew.  We’d been silently preparing for this moment.  Someone pulled chairs into the hall in front of her room.  We sat.  They brought us blankets that had been warmed.  I wrap up in mine, but don’t feel like I’ll ever be warm again.

The next hour went very quickly.  Those moments are just for us, so I’ll keep them ours.

5:15 am.  They place her in my arms, next to her bed.  I’m sitting in a rocking chair, Nate is next to me.  The doctor gives us a short moment.

5:17 am.  “I don’t hear any more heartbeats.  Take all the time you need.”  He leaves.  Someone shuts off the lights, so there’s only the soft glow of the hallway lights peeking through.  Dr. R steps in – they must have called him.  He’s crying – I guess I figured pediatric doctors compartmentalized.  “I’m so sorry.”  We nod, thank him for coming.  He exits and stands in the hall with the others.

We sit there for hours.  Holding and rocking her.

The aftermath is always a blur.  Family and friends.  Paperwork.  Driving back home without her.  Celebration of life.  The hardest part is carrying on when part of you has died.

She was perfectly imperfect.  Beautifully broken.  And she’s exactly where she needs to be.

“As far as I can see, grief will never truly end.  It may become softer over time, more gentle, and some days will feel sharp.  But grief will last as long as love does – forever.  It’s simply the way the absence of your love one manifests in your heart.  A deep longing, accompanied by the deepest love.  Some days, the heavy fog may return, and the next day, it may recede, once again.  It’s all an ebb and flow, a constant dance of sorrow and joy, pain and sweet love.”  [Scribbles & Crumbs]

Thank you for reading her story.


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