Got milk?

Dear Jordy-Bug,

The day you were born, I wasn't able to hold you. I wasn't able to nurse you. But I was able to pump my breast milk in preparation for your future feedings. Expressing the milk that my body made just for you helped me feel like a good mom, and I wanted to be the best Mommy that I could for you. Knowing that breast milk is the healthiest option for a newborn, I pumped. Every four hours. I pumped. Even when it meant I had to leave you in the NICU for a half hour to do it, I pumped. (Eventually, I did it right there in your room behind a curtain so as not to miss any more time with you.) Even when it meant waking up during a much-needed two-hour nap in the middle of the night. I pumped. Even when we realized you weren't going to make it. I pumped. Even after you died. I pumped. Maybe I convinced myself that if I kept pumping, you couldn't actually leave us. In my hopefulness, I dreamed that you would be drinking it in the very near future. In the back of my mind, though, it occurred to me that it may very well be sent to a milk bank to help other newborn babies who were fighting for their lives.

The last few days of your life, the nurses in the NICU gave you some of my milk through a feeding tube and you tolerated it very well. We were pretty sure that they did it for our benefit, though, not yours. Although we hated seeing that bright orange tube coming out of your nose, nourishing you with my breast milk was an incredibly personal and wonderful experience that I am privileged to have had. We thank them for their thoughtful gesture.

After Daddy and I returned home from the hospital, two of the NICU nurses brought the milk we had stored in the hospital to our home. We diligently put it in the deep freeze to await transport to a milk bank. I researched various options, and finally settled on the Mother's Milk Bank of Iowa because they use the milk directly for critically ill infants, they aren't part of a company that charges astronomical fees for hospitals to obtain the milk, and they are the closest operational milk bank to the St. Louis area. I went through the screening process, which included a phone interview, written interview, doctor release, and blood tests. I was deemed a "healthy, viable donor" by the very kind woman who runs the bank. Unfortunately, they can't use the first few weeks worth of milk because I was taking medicine for high blood pressure during that time, but they sent me a cooler and instructions on how to ship the rest of the milk to them. The cooler has been sitting in our living room for over a week. I had no idea how emotional it would be to pack up and ship your precious milk away. And the thought of throwing away the first several bottles makes me physically ill. I just can't bring myself to do it. In fact, we plan to send all of the milk to them because it seems impossible for us to actually dispose of any of it. Maybe they can use the first batches for research. If not, I don't want to know about it.

So, I intended to ship the cooler last Thursday. Then I was going to do it on Monday. Tuesday came and went. Now it's Wednesday and it's still sitting here empty. When I told Daddy that I found a place to buy dry ice, I started crying. He hugged me and said he would like to go with me to get the ice, pack the cooler, and take it to Fed Ex to ship. He knows I may never do it if I have to do it alone. He also thinks I should keep one of the first bottles to soothe my anxiety over shipping off the rest of your priceless milk. He's so loving and so patient and so kind. I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a wonderful husband. I'm very sorry that you didn't get to experience more of him. It breaks my heart that he never got the chance to be the awesome Daddy that I know he would be to you. (I'm crying again.)

To honor you, we will get that life-giving milk to the milk bank so other babies can thrive...except for that one bottle that I will keep forever. [Update: Daddy and I mailed the cooler on our way to Faith's Lodge on Monday, July 23rd. I couldn't have done it without him. I kept the first bottle of milk that you hadn't used (you drank everything dated prior to March 17th) and the last bottle I pumped while you were still alive on March 28th.]

I love you, sweetheart.

Love,