Our son

Even as I write this tears continue to flow. I didn't think I had any left. Nate and I have experienced every kind of emotion.
I'm not very good with words, but I will try to retail the past 48 hours.

Walking through the double doors of the hospital that night I felt deeply saddened knowing that when we came back through the next day a very special part of us would be gone. And I would no longer be pregnant.
We were met by a very compassionate nurse in the maternity ward. Heidi is her name. She was our nurse at first, but soon we realized she was an angel. I am so grateful that she was working that night.
The doctor and nursing staff met us with their sympathies. They ended up spending 3 hours talking with us before we began the labor. Their thoughtfulness and patience was beyond comforting. Heidi talked me through every detail as it was happening so as to calm my nerves. I kept telling her and the other staff that I just wasn't expecting to be here on my monday night. We were planning on doing a cider press with our neighbors. And this was just all so much to handle so quickly. I think Heidi understood and was especially sensitive to both Nate and I and our needs. I so appreciated that she took care of Nate too. He was going through just as much as I was only I think it was harder for him because he didn't have anything to do but sit, pace, help me, hold my hand and cry.

I was mostly nervous about having an epidural shot. Heidi sat next to me and let me squeeze her hand until it lost all color. She spoke kind words and coached me through.
Once we were finished, I felt a bit of stress released. She gave me the medication to begin labor. Now the waiting began. Nate and I were so tired by this point. Our eyes were swollen from crying. Our heads pounded. It was 3am. Nate tried to fall asleep on his window seat bed 10 feet from my bed. We didn't like being so far away from each other, but our tiredness kicked in even stronger. I quickly fell asleep in my bed.

Only 3 hours later I awoke to Heidi coming in to check up on me. She said everything was looking good and that we should continue to rest. As she was leaving I called her over again. I felt myself going into labor. She got the doctor right away and sure enough our son was born. Nate was right at my bedside. We looked at each other not quite sure if we should be happy that it happened so soon or if we should cry knowing it was over.
We weren't able to see him right away because the doctor was concerned about the blood I was losing.
That's when everything happened so fast. In only a few minutes there were 6 nurses running around grabbing instruments and getting ready to move me to the operating room. I felt like I was going to pass out. Heidi was there the whole time coaching me through the process.
Poor Nate couldn't come in the room with me. He had to wait by himself in our birthing suite. He later told me it was the most agonizing hour. He was so worried. Both the chaplin and Heidi came in to check on him to make sure he was doing well. I'm so glad they did.
Meanwhile in the operating room I was paralyzed from the waist down with medication. The last thing I remembered was the doctor giving orders to a nurse. And then I was out.
What felt like 10 min. later (really an hour later) they were wheeling me back into our room. Everything had gone really well they said. I was glad to be back with Nate. He looked so exhausted.

The doctor walked over to our bed with our little son. We were nervous to see him, but also very curious. I will try my best to describe him, but really how do you describe a human being with just words. His face looked so peaceful and it seemed like he was resting. His eyes had the same distinct look as Nate's eyes. They were closed, but you could see they were big eyes just like Nate's. That's when it hit me that this was not just a person, he is a part of us with characteristics like ours. Nate said his nose looked like mine, a small button nose. And I just couldn't take my eyes off his ears. They were the tiniest little ears with all the detail of a full grown ear. Even as such a young person the detail was outstanding. His little arms and legs were beautiful and of course he had a little pot belly. =)
I still try to remember him at night when I close my eyes. I don't want to forget the details. We even drew a picture of him when we got home so as to help remember what we saw. It doesn't do him justice, but it was helpful.

I asked Nate what he wanted to name him and without hesitating he said, "I want to name him Isaac." The meaning behind the name struck me with such intensity that my eyes whelled up with big tears and I could hardly get the words out, "that is a perfect name. We will name him Isaac."

Isaac Andrew Forbes born 6:49am October 16th - stillbirth.

The hospital did a wonderful job of honoring our baby as a human being and as our son. They offered a burial site for him not too far from the St. Vincent Hospital in Beaverton. They also sent us home with a beautiful box full of treasures to help us remember him by. His ultrasound picture, his birth bracelet, a tiny outfit, a baby blanket and a nice card signed by our wonderful nursing staff. It's a treasure. I'm so grateful for how well things went considering the circumstances. The kindness shown by strangers was overwhelming and so very much needed.

Coming home was also very good. We were finally able to let our guard down and mourn the way we wanted to. We were both so worried in the hospital about the physical aspects of everything that we just had to wait until we got home to cry like we wanted to.
I am still in the recovery stage. My body aches and feels sore. It will take a few weeks before my body is back to it's original state.

We were and are blessed by all the great emails and messages, flowers, chocolates and cards sent by so many of you. Your prayers and support were felt in the hospital and even now. We are so grateful for many things.
Thank you for caring. We really don't ask that you understand because we don't either. And that is just fine. We know it will be a long process and something that we will never "get over." We lost our son and that will always be a part of us.

I imagine that in Heaven Jesus greeted Isaac with His arms wide open kneeling down eager to scoop him up and hold him in His arms for a long long time.

I know someday I will do the same thing.