June July August October

June, July, August, October

The dry erase calendar in the hall.  I’m not always prompt changing it on the first day of every month, but usually within the first 2 or 3 days I’ve erased the last month’s dates, activities, appointments, and silly notes someone may have left and I fill in Month, Numbers for the days, and already planned events.

By the end of the first week of September time had become irrelevant. I never wrote on the calendar – not the whole month. And now it’s October and I’m not too keen on filling it in either.

We spent 39 weeks of the last year – beginning in January – blissfully waiting for Bryant Cole Brown to arrive and show his sweet face and fill our homes with the absolute joy of a little boy. Our first grandchild, Meghan’s (Aunt Mina’s) first nephew, Molly’s and Brad’s first child. 

Every ultrasound showed a stretching, moving, showing off, making faces baby boy. My goodness by June we could almost tell who he would favor and that he had really long legs. We went to two weddings that month, I worked in the yard a lot, and thought about Bryant joining me one day out there. 

I bought a red “Radio Flyer” wagon and assembled it myself. It was for me and Bryant and became a symbol of the little boy who would spend afternoons with Jojo and play in the dirt, then get a bath, then cuddle on the porch swing. I smiled a lot. Molly posted weekly pictures of her growing little tummy. No contest – she’s the cutest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen in my life.

In July Meghan and Molly would come over on Saturdays and float around in the pool. While they were here Molly wore sunscreen or a long shirt to protect Bryant from the sun. She ate a lot of animal crackers and fruit, and drank water … I never saw her eat anything that was not good for the baby – her every action was for his well-being and protection. It was a mother’s (my) delight to watch her as a woman/future mommy – smiling, showing us when Bryant was moving around, acting silly with her sister playing different kinds of music to see what Bryant “liked” best. We figured out it was his daddy’s Old Country … George Jones, Oak Ridge Boys, Merle Haggard … and of course George Strait. Bryant even got to go to a George Strait concert!

In July we invited the families over for a big shower for Bryant. All blue Welcome Baby, and Bryant banners. SO many gifts for that sweet boy – specifically chosen for HIM because of who he is and because his parents are loved by us all.

July and August I went pretty much crazy purchasing baby boy things - in person and online. I think the UPS guy was getting tired of the long drive out here, but most things I had delivered to Molly and Brad’s. She loved getting home from work to find a box on the porch with a new outfit or a surprise for their soon-to-arrive son. 

Bryant’s room was complete and his wardrobe was ready for a variety of sizes – we assumed he would grow pretty fast and even joked that we might have to cut the feet out of some long onesies if his legs were too long for them. Stacks of diapers filled the closet, a basket of bibs and blankets sat on the changing table, books and stuffed toys were arranged; Jojo even finished the monogrammed quilt I had promised.

August – About the middle of the month I had a jolt of exhilaration combined with an emotion I can’t describe when I looked at the picture of Bryant on my refrigerator. I burst into happy tears and posted on facebook that in just ONE month I would be able to kiss that sweet face as much as I wanted to.

School started on the 25^th. Bryant brought me a Sonic gift card for my first week of coffee and a box of Moon Pies. Boy do I love that kid! Of course, being the over-the-top excited Jojo, I informed my students of the impending announcement and told them if I got a phone call I would be bolting from the room and they’d be left alone. Some seemed to be disturbingly eager for that day.

We finished the first week of school with no Bryant, but he seemed to be getting ready to show his sweet self to us very soon. Monday the 2^nd of September was Labor Day. The “perfect” day to “labor” … no Bryant. People would ask and I’d say “any day now!” Molly was adorable, but with swollen feet and hands and a big ole boy twisting around, she was ready for Bryant to be in her arms, not in her tummy.

“Any day now” turned out to be anything but “any day”. I finished the school day the 4^th of September – a Thursday – extremely tired for some reason. I dragged myself out of the school with a bag on my shoulder. I guess I looked like it had been a rough day – Mrs. Hood (the school secretary and a sweet friend) told me, “Have a good evening” and I hollered back, “I’m going home to eat ice cream!” I hoisted myself into the hot Jeep and turned on the AC. While I sat there for a minute waiting for it to cool down Lisa (Brad’s mother) called. She asked if I was still at the school and when I told her I was in the parking lot she said she was going to run by. I waited in the cool, not particularly thinking about anything – and certainly not expecting the news I was about to receive.

Lisa arrived, said hello, reached out for a hug and said, “They can’t find a heartbeat.” Time stopped. I remember saying several times, “One WEEK! – There was just ONE MORE WEEK!” 

The events after that are the comings and goings, the seeing Molly and Brad sitting on their sofa in the dark living room holding hands, all the bags on the hearth waiting for the joyous “it’s time” drive to the hospital. A diaper bag with Bryant monogrammed on it in the blue that matched the colors of his nursery, a pillow, a car seat, Molly’s bag of snacks and necessities for a short hospital stay. And there they sat – holding hands in a room with no lights on and I don’t know if it was really as dark as I imagine because it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, but to me the memory is darkness. 

I sat down beside Molly and wrapped my arms around her, reached over and put a hand on Brad’s knee and I don’t know that I even said anything. I do remember Molly smiled and said, “It’ll be ok.” and I thought I’d never met anybody like her in my whole life. She said a couple more things, “God knows….” I’m not sure what she was thinking that God knew at that time, but I didn’t spend any time pondering it either. I just remember her saying it.

I went outside and made a few phone calls. I’m not a big “phone person” – I usually text, so a couple people I called knew something was wrong the minute they heard my voice. I don’t know that I said much except, “we’ve lost our baby.”

I came home, met Meghan here, threw some things in a bag, got on comfy pants and a long sleeved shirt (Somehow I remembered that I’m always cold in a hospital), and I took off my watch. 

It wasn’t a mindless gesture. I took it off. Time didn’t mean anything. It hardly has meant anything for a month – nor have I worn a watch for a month. I don’t want to put one on…Just like I don’t want to write October on the calendar. 

I'm sure I’ve overanalyzed it - I want time to have ended on September 4^th. If time had not continued past that day, Bryant would be here. 

I know time has elapsed. I know that on September 5^th a beautiful, perfect, little boy was delivered – without a heartbeat. I know that we cried. Everybody cried. I still cry. Friends came and cried with us. Family ...  

Thank God for family. Thank God for the special friend who came with her camera and took priceless photos that we would not have if she hadn’t arrived. And she stayed and remained inconspicuous as she captured the only moments that would ever exist of mother, daddy, their firstborn son.

Thank God for Aunt Mina who stayed with her sister the entire time – who watched Molly’s pain and strength while exhibiting her OWN strength merely with her presence – who watched her brother-in-law experience the worst heartbreak of his lifetime as he adoringly held his son who had no earthly life left in his little perfect body.

And my memories – a few are vague, but some are so clear it’s as if they can play out right in front of me at any time:

The moment Brad walked in the room the nursing staff had set aside for us, crying with pain upon pain beyond pain. Telling Kevin and me that we could go in.

Walking in to find my daughter holding the most beautiful little baby boy wrapped in a blanket with a blue crocheted cap provided by the hospital…and she was smiling. Smiling. And I leaned down to see that perfect face, and touch little hands, and longed to hold my daughter like a mother wants to hold her child when the child has been hurt … and Molly said, “It’s hard not to smile when he’s so perfect.”  And still she smiled. And showed us his big feet. And little fingers. And the little Brad Brown dent in his chin. And I said, “I could hold him forever.” And Kevin cried, and teased like he and Molly always do. And we stayed awhile then left for Lisa and Stan to have their moment.

I never did hold him – I wouldn’t have wanted to. It would have been a moment stolen from his parents who would have a short enough time with him as it was.

I went back to the family room and I cried. And cried. And I cried. For the pain my children (Brad is my child – I always say, “I love that boy”) were going through, for the loss of our baby boy and the never-to-be times with him that we had looked forward to. For Kevin – who was already Pappy and had loved seeing his baby girl as a mother. I cried for myself – just because that’s how humans work I suppose. Not that it was ever about me … I just hurt and some of the tears came from my own grief.

Prayer – I’m not even sure who all came and prayed with us and I’m sorry I can’t remember that. I just know that there was prayer covering the day and thank God for it too because otherwise I probably would have melted into the floor and never cared to return.

Going back in to the hospital room a second time to see Bradley holding Bryant in the rocking chair. He didn’t even look up. It would probably have been physically impossible for him to take his eyes off his son’s face at that time. Just the way it should have been.

The day getting later – people coming in to give hugs and as much comfort as possible (there was no such thing at that time).

Seeing Bryant after a change of clothes – in his monogrammed “Bryant” cap – his face still soft and beautiful. Perfect. Peaceful. While all around him was desperate hurt and excruciating heartbreak that he would never have to know. 

Our own family gathering together for a photo – the only picture we’ll ever have of the six of us.

Leaving the room again. Returning. I would have stayed every second but other people needed their time; Molly and Brad needed time alone with their baby.

The walk into the room that I knew would be the last time I saw Bryant. Molly lovingly cradling that sweet little body like a mother holds her cherished child. Bradley standing close by – empty.

Saying goodbye – and leaving my baby, who is an adult, in the care of her adoring, strong, courageous, and compassionate husband. He wouldn’t leave her side – I had no doubt, but she was my baby right then, and it was hard to walk out that door.

And coming home. To Jojo’s and Pappy’s house – knowing that Bryant would never play here.

A month has passed. A funeral has taken place. Friends have sent cards, notes, facebook messages. I have been to visit Bryant’s grave several times taking balloons and notes and little things that make me think of him. I have spent a lot of time with Molly. Some "it's ok" days, some sad days.

It’s October. The calendar is still empty. So is my heart. So are Molly’s and Brad’s arms. So is the nursery - decorated all tan and blue – calm, peaceful colors – and prepared over the summer with such love and eagerness for the new life that would rest and grow there.

It’s October – time hasn’t stopped.

But in September, it did.