Pictures

Jacob  right after birth getting his vent tube placed

I know, two post in one day! But I just need to talk about this.

I have never shared pictures of Jacob before. I have many that the hospital took after he passed away, plus a few that nurses and friends took when we took him off life support and were saying goodbye. I've been asked a lot why I never shared pictures of him. I honestly don't know the answer to that question. Part of it, I know, had to do with Jacob being MINE. I didn't get a lot of time with him, so I guess I just wanted him to be only mine. When my mom came down for his memorial service, I showed the pictures to her, and my best friend was there with us in the NICU the day he died. But besides those few people who were there that day, no one has seen pictures of Jacob.

It's not that I am ashamed of him or scared or anything really, except that I wanted him to myself.

My best friend and I with Jacob

I decided to share a few pictures today for the first time of Jacob on my facebook page. And I am in shock. A good shock, don't get me wrong. I never realized how many people have been waiting to see this little boy that they hear so much about. It never occurred to me, that sharing his picture would be something that other's longed for, and actually enjoyed. I never thought sharing his pictures would be an act of strength. To me, it was out of weakness that I shared these pictures. I NEED people to know he was here. I NEED others to love him, and see him. I need to know he was not just a horrible dream I had. He WAS real. He WAS alive. He WAS here. My job as his mother is to never let him be forgotten. I feel selfish for keeping his pictures to myself for so long. Selfish, and like I failed him in a way. But I cannot go back and I cannot change that now. Now, I just have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Keeping Jacob's memory alive. So, the first step, is to share his pictures. I hope you enjoy them.

Brett and I with Jacob and Juliet together again. 

Perfect little fingers

I still regret this moment: Telling them to unplug him.