That was the first thing that crossed my mind when the Neo-natal Doctor told us our son had died. She couldn't have meant that. There must be some way I could go back just five minutes and make him alive again. The second thing to enter into my thoughts was that our baby was a boy. We had a son.
When my first wave of nausea subsided, I looked back over at Ty. His face portrayed the stunned disbelief that I felt. The Doctor motioned for him to follow her, and a few minutes later he returned with our son in his arms. He came over to me and angled his arms so I could see our boy. He was beautiful; dark mounds of hair covering his head, and his face was flushed a deep red. His lips were tiny and hard to see, and his lashes were long and thick. I swallowed, looking at this tiny form whose movements I had known so well, but whose laughter I would never know. Ty whispered as he held him, "Chelsea, this will only bring us closer together."
Some time later I was moved to recovery and someone placed our son in my arms. He was heavy and the weight felt good in my arms. His body was still warm, and I felt baffled by his silence. My eyes were dry, and my throat felt clogged. Ty left to go break the news to our parents. The aftereffects from the spinal kicked in and my body began to violently shake. A nurse helped me to lay him next to me on the bed, and handed me the vomit pan as I threw up again and again. The shaking continued and I cradled our baby in the crook of my right arm. The door opened and my mother and father walked in, seeing the baby for the first time. They were both already crying, and came over and leaned over us both and hugged me long and hard. Mom kept whispering over and over, "I'm so sorry honey, I'm so sorry honey..." Dad took my son in his arms and stared down at him. Soon Ty came back into the room with his mother and step-father following him. They were both crying as well, and I could see fury building inside my Mother-in-law's red eyes. Each parent had their turn holding the baby, then our mothers took him and washed his hair together. When they brought him back to me, we all smiled at how abundant his hair was. It popped up in every direction, and grew long down his neck. I laid him once more against my chest and the hospital's Chaplain came to my bedside. Sister explained that there was no need to baptize the boy as babies' souls are already called to God's side, and instead she prayed over him and for our healing. She asked his name, and Ty and I responded together, "His name is Wiley, Wiley Reagan".
