It has been two years since I heard those awful words. "Your baby is coming, there is nothing we can do. You need to push." A part of me died right there with him that day.
I know there are people who don't agree with how I chose/choose to grieve and remember, but they weren't the ones holding him and staring at his perfect, tiny little body. I made him a promise as I said goodbye that I would never forget him, and that promise still holds true. Every year on this day, I will get balloons and release them with the girls. They will know that they have an angel watching over them in heaven.
I love you, baby boy. I know your Grampa Willy is taking care of you up there.