by Monica Cox, mother of Junior
In July of 2006, my husband and I discovered that we were pregnant, hoping for a healthy baby after miscarrying two other pregnancies. Once we heard the heartbeat, we both took a huge sigh of relief, knowing that our chances of carrying this baby were very good. I felt the baby move inside me and heard the heartbeat at a few different office visits.
Our whole family called the baby “Junior” since we didn’t know his gender at the time. Then on November 17th, my husband and I went to the hospital for an ultrasound to find out what we were having. The technician seemed to hurry through the ultrasound, not wanting to answer any of our questions. Then the doctor came in and put the ultrasound on the baby’s heart and said, “Here is your baby’s heart, and unfortunately, it is not beating any more.”
We were shocked and stunned! It was beating the week before. We were moving in five days to another city. The doctor gave us the option of staying at the hospital to deliver the baby or wait until after we had moved. I knew I would not sleep knowing my baby was no longer alive, so I opted to stay at the hospital and deliver my baby.
It was just after midnight on November 18th when I delivered my precious angel baby boy. My husband and I held him in the palm of our hands and cried. He was so very small, yet so perfect with the tiniest little fingers and toes. A little voice kept whispering in my mind, “He’s not yours to keep right now.” A lady came to take some pictures and make molds of his little hands and feet, which are completely priceless to us.
