So many times these two words have echoed over and over again in my mind since finding out about Julian’s pleural effusion at 19 weeks gestation. These two words have stayed with me since the beginning and continuously run through my mind now.
The doctor tells us they discovered fluid around Julian’s lungs.
What’s next…
They tell us I will need a procedure to reduce the amount of fluid found on him in utero.
What’s next…
They tell us they will perform an amniocentesis.
What’s next…
They tell us to tour the NICU to prepare for Julian’s arrival.
What’s next…
They tell me I’ve developed polyhydramnios.
What’s next…
They tell me I’m contracting and I need an amnio reduction ASAP.
What’s next…
They tell me Julian got quiet, to prepare for labor.
What’s next…
They place Julian on top of me, he’s silent.
What’s next…
They whisk him away.
What’s next…
They bring him to NICU intensive care.
What’s next…
They tell us our son was sicker than they ever anticipated, that he had hydrops and wasn’t responding to stimuli.
What’s next…
They tell us they’re trying everything they can do to drain the fluid, but it keeps coming back.
What’s next…
They tell us there isn’t anything else they can do.
What’s next…
They place him in our arms so we can say our last goodbyes as he slowly slips away.
What’s next…
I’m now a mother who has lost a child.
What’s next…
I leave the hospital empty handed.
What’s next…
I come home to a somber house with baby stuff everywhere and no baby to show for it.
What’s next…
We have to explain to our 5 and 3 year old their baby brother wasn’t coming home.
What’s next…
I still have to parent my living children.
What’s next…
I still need to be a wife.
What’s next…
All while losing myself.
What’s next…
Triggers all around me.
What’s next…
First holidays without you.
What’s next…
Drowning in my grief but forcing a smile.
What’s next…
The first year passes by.
What’s next…
Check ins become less and less.
What’s next…
Afraid people are slowly forgetting you existed.
What's next...
Finding ways to speak your name and honor you.
What’s next…
People unsure how to sit with me in my grief.
What’s next…
Losing people.
What’s next…
Gaining people.
What’s next…
People think that you’re over it or you should be over it.
What’s next…
You thought it would get easier, but many times it feels harder.
What’s next…
Learning to live without you.
What’s next…
Trying to find myself again.
What’s next…
It’s now been 23 months since you took your last breath and I am still asking myself what comes next. Because the reality is, I don’t know. Living in a world with grief has you asking questions to yourself daily, and there isn’t always an answer, there isn’t always a right choice, a wrong choice, a better or a worse choice.
I just know that with every breath I make, every step I take, you my third son, will always be with me, guiding me and by my side. And that is all I need to know, as the next "what's next" comes my way.
