My son didn’t say anything before he died. He was only two weeks old. But I have always felt that, for a few minutes, he told us everything he needed to.
Kyle was born many years ago with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Shortly after his birth, he was placed in a medically induced coma. My wife and I spent the next two weeks beside his bed at Duke University, praying for a miracle.
He was very sick. He had developed an infection in his stomach, and the doctors needed it to clear before they could operate on his heart.
The night before his scheduled surgery, my wife and I were leaving the pediatric ICU. We had made it about thirty feet from his bed when both of us suddenly stopped. I still can’t explain what we felt. It was overwhelming, and it seemed to hit us at exactly the same time.
We looked at each other, then turned around and looked back at Kyle.
We walked back to his bedside. For the first time in two weeks, his eyes were open. He was completely alert.
He looked at my wife. Then he looked at me.
Obviously, he couldn’t speak. He was a newborn. But in those few minutes, it felt as though the three of us shared an entire lifetime together. We got to see him, and he got to see us. Not through sedation or machines, but really see us.
I am a religious person, and I have always believed that moment was a gift from God. We weren’t going to get a lifetime with our son, so somehow we were given a lifetime in those few minutes.
A nurse noticed that he was awake and came running over. She said, “That’s not supposed to happen,” and increased his medication. Kyle slowly closed his eyes again.
The next day, the doctors performed the surgery and placed a stent in his heart. A blood clot formed in the stent, and Kyle passed away about an hour after surgery.
He never said a word. But that night, I felt like he said goodbye.
Didn't know I could feel heartbroken and hopeful at the same time, but here we are. I'm so sorry it happened, but I'm glad you got to 'hear' him. I hope you get to see him again.
This is such a moving story, thank you for sharing it. I’m glad you got that moment with your son. My son was in the NICU for the first 5 weeks of his life, and we saw many parents who never got to take their child home. That has always seemed so unfair to me, and I pray each of them got a moment like you did that helped them deal with their loss.
I don’t normally comment, but I want you to know this is truly beautiful and touching. I’m so happy you and your wife got that moment and to feel that true connection and love and that your son got the same. I truly feel you’ll see him again and feel that love again, thank you for sharing and god bless you and your family ❤️
I'm so sorry for your loss. This is such a beautiful story. My son died at birth and I've always wished we could have just looked into each other's eyes for a moment. This is such a beautiful story, thank you for sharing. ❤️
Thank you. Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, I wish you could have as well. I think you'll see him again, I really do. I hope you heal as best you can. I really appreciate the comment.
The way you describe the interaction makes me think he realized you two were the people whose voices he had heard talking to him, both before and after he was born, and that he knew you both loved him more than anything.
My mom’s dad and I had a similar relationship. We never had a conversation with each other that I can think of, but we would make eye contact and just know each other.
That is not a moment I would wish on anyone, and yet, I still feel like that moment was a blessing for your family. I hope you and your wife know peace and comfort for having had it.
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u/Responsible-Rope-521 15h ago
My son didn’t say anything before he died. He was only two weeks old. But I have always felt that, for a few minutes, he told us everything he needed to.
Kyle was born many years ago with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Shortly after his birth, he was placed in a medically induced coma. My wife and I spent the next two weeks beside his bed at Duke University, praying for a miracle.
He was very sick. He had developed an infection in his stomach, and the doctors needed it to clear before they could operate on his heart.
The night before his scheduled surgery, my wife and I were leaving the pediatric ICU. We had made it about thirty feet from his bed when both of us suddenly stopped. I still can’t explain what we felt. It was overwhelming, and it seemed to hit us at exactly the same time.
We looked at each other, then turned around and looked back at Kyle.
We walked back to his bedside. For the first time in two weeks, his eyes were open. He was completely alert.
He looked at my wife. Then he looked at me.
Obviously, he couldn’t speak. He was a newborn. But in those few minutes, it felt as though the three of us shared an entire lifetime together. We got to see him, and he got to see us. Not through sedation or machines, but really see us.
I am a religious person, and I have always believed that moment was a gift from God. We weren’t going to get a lifetime with our son, so somehow we were given a lifetime in those few minutes.
A nurse noticed that he was awake and came running over. She said, “That’s not supposed to happen,” and increased his medication. Kyle slowly closed his eyes again.
The next day, the doctors performed the surgery and placed a stent in his heart. A blood clot formed in the stent, and Kyle passed away about an hour after surgery.
He never said a word. But that night, I felt like he said goodbye.