Time is a mutable thing. Under some circumstances it goes by so quickly that we barely notice the passing of time. Under other circumstances, time slogs along. It’s hard to believe that only five days have passed since I found out my baby boy was dead and only 4 days since my wife and I went through the induced birth ordeal. Since then we have had family and friends around us, and while it helps to talk and spend time with them, the weight of all of this grief is not just soul crushing but also physically tires you. Every morning that I wake up and every night I go to sleep I feel like Sisyphus, because the weight that I am fighting to move always seems to slip back down.
Mostly, since last Tuesday, I have tried to deal with as little as possible. Phone calls, texts, messages, and emails all went basically unanswered. It didn’t matter if they were business related or baby related. After I made arrangements with the hospital to send Bennett to the funeral home, found a plot for him to be buried in, and had coordinated with the Rabbi and Funeral Director I figured that this heavy task would have taken care of itself. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
Losing your baby once is hard enough, having the hospital lose your baby is a completely other thing. Yet, that is where I am today: calling, fighting, and begging the hospital to find out where my baby boy is. So far all I can tell is that Labor and Delivery sent Bennett to Pathology and Pathology can neither confirm whether or not they performed the autopsy nor if they have Bennett in their custody.
As soul crushing as it is for me to now be searching for Bennett, I can’t even begin to say how worried I am for my wife if we can’t find Bennett. While closure is important for both of us, I can’t even begin to comprehend a mother’s grief that comes from not being able to bury your baby boy.