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My mom was my greatest supporter and encourager. A baby cannot take the place of a mother in your life. I felt as though I was expected to be thankful that I had a new life coming, as though he would replace the life that was lost. The grief was unlike any feeling I ever had and I truly felt joy leave my body. My mom passed away when I was six months pregnant. I would not be able to see her smile while watching him now as a nine year old a beautiful, freckly, hockey- and math-loving sweetheart. I wouldn’t be able to share my story with her of his emergency C-section birth.
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I would not be able to tell her that he would be 9lbs 11oz, have dark brown hair, and display the sweetest dimples. There was nothing else I could tell her about the grandson she would never meet. This would be the first boy in our family and totally unknown territory for me.Ī few weeks later, while she was lying in her bed and mostly unresponsive, I whispered in her ear, “His name will be Kai.” I let her know that his middle name would be my maiden name. The first and only grandchild so far was also a girl. I could barely get the words out: “It’s a boy.” We were both crying bittersweet tears. “Mom, in case anything happens, I really want to tell you.” She nodded her head in agreement while tears poured down her face, not wanting to accept this reality. I guess she was being hopeful but I was feeling realistic and desperate to tell her. She had been given two weeks to two months left to live and I still had over three months left in my pregnancy. There was no guarantee that she would get to meet this grandchild, my firstborn. "No, I’ll wait and see,” she said with a smile. “Do you want to know what we’re having?" I asked my mom.