The hardest thing

The hardest thing for me to grasp after Harrison died was wondering if he was okay.

As a parent, I feel like I never stop wondering and worrying about my kids. Even as Ava gets older and bigger, if I am away from her, I worry, is she okay? I know she’s fine, it’s just the split second thought of every parents worst nightmare.

Leaving Harrison at the hospital almost every night made me sick to my stomach. I could’ve drove myself crazy thinking about him. Of course I could call whenever I wanted to. The fact that I am his MOTHER and the safest place I felt for him was at home, with me, in my arms. I knew this was not possible. But it was an urge I had to ignore at times or else I really would’ve driven myself crazy and never slept.

When he passed away, I couldn’t leave him. I felt his sweet, little spirit was not there, but how could I leave my precious baby at the hospital, never to see him or hold him ever again? The thought that crossed my mind over and over was “is he okay?”. Was he scared as he went to heaven? Was he happy? Was he confused? Is he okay? No longer could I call the hospital, listening to the same stupid music while holding for the nurse. I couldn’t check on him or see him with my own eyes to verify he’s just fine. I couldn’t hold him to comfort him. How could I know that he was okay?

This concept was very difficult for me to grasp. People would say “Harrison’s in a better place” or “Harrison’s with Jesus” …I knew Harrison was no longer suffering, it made me feel relieved that no one could hurt him anymore, no one could poke him or prod him, or make a mistake on him because he was no longer their patient anymore. He was free. But the BEST place for Harrison was with me. With his daddy and sissy. At home.

The week that followed Harrison’s death, I begged and prayed for a sign that he was okay. Some of our family and friends have heard this story already. Ava was sleeping over my in-laws, it was just billy and I alone in the house. He was in the living room and I was laying in bed bawling my eyes out. Ava’s toy walkie talkies began alarming this sound like someone was trying to call into one of them. They were in her bedroom. No one was in that room. I yelled for billy and he went into her room and shut them off. Both of us truly believe that was Harrison, checking in and telling us that he made it okay.

I believe in God and consider myself a spiritual person. Some days, I do still struggle with the concept of not knowing what he’s doing, how he’s feeling, is he okay?

I try to remind myself, I try to picture him smiling and giggling (which he couldn’t do in his earthly body), Jesus holding him, or maybe my grandparents cuddling him. And somehow that gets me through the day.


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