When the wind blows my hair into my face I don't immediately move it and place it back behind my ears anymore; I wait and I savor the moment. I let it sweep repeatedly across my cheeks and slap my nose. I take a deep breath and I smile. "Hey Wyatt," I think to myself. Sometimes I even say it out loud. Then I reluctantly place the strands back into place and go on with what I was doing. I love instants like that when my nephew talks to me through the wind, because it's the only way he will ever be able to talk to his "Aunt Nessa", that is until we meet again in heaven.
This is the story about how I got an angel as a nephew.
It was Tuesday, April 24th, 2012 and I was finishing up with my last customer of the day at work. In only one hour I would be on the road to Tennessee to, at the very least, visit my sister and niece. You see, at that exact moment she was at her weekly doctor's appointment to find out the progress of little Wyatt. That previous week she had already begun to dilate, so the chances that he could make his arrival this week were high, and I was ready! I had my bags packed and an air mattress in the trunk. I had even managed to sneak in one more shopping trip before I left. I had already spoiled him beyond belief and he wasn't even here! I placed the two new outfits on top of my bag that morning in readiness for his impending arrival! I had anticipated little man's birth from day one. I remember being at work that previous fall when I found out Krys was going to have a boy. She Facetimed me from the gender reveal party. I squealed and tears streamed down my face when I saw the blue icing inside the cake; a BOY! I was going to have a nephew and my sister was getting her perfect family. I couldn't have been happier.
That Tuesday, I remember that everyone told me how distracted I was that day and how I couldn't stop smiling. They kept asking me why I was so happy. I just responded with, "Because my nephew will be here soon!" By now, it was a little after 5:00 when my phone rang and "sissy" popped up on the screen. I excused myself from my customer and answered. I was too excited for the formality of "hello?" "Is he coming?" , I asked all excited. It was then I knew something was wrong. All I could here was my sister's muffled voice say, "he's gone." "What do you mean he's gone? You already had him?" The confused questions to her continued through the tears until she said "Wyatt died. There is no heartbeat." I understood now, and for a moment I thought I had lost my heartbeat too.
I sunk to the ground and wailed in pain. I don't remember the exact sequence of events after that, except for my manager helping me to the back office and getting me tissues. Once I had composed myself, or thought I had composed myself, I called my sister back. She didn't go into any detail, instead she asked me to call my dad, mom and brother and deliver the news. Once those horrific conversations were behind me, I quickly grabbed my things and headed for the door; headed for Tennessee. My sister needed me and I needed to get there as fast as I could.
That three hour drive was excruciating. I turned on my flashers and drove with a recklessness that I cannot explain. I got stuck in traffic and had to call what seemed like 100 people to spread the horrible news of Wyatt's death. My face hurt from the constant tension, my eyes were burning with relentless tears, but it was my heart that hurt the worst. It hurt for my sister, my brother-in-law and my sweet and beautiful niece. Lyla couldn't wait to be a big sister and it killed me to think of what questions she would ask when baby brother never came home.
I brushed that thought out of my head and continued weaving in and out of slow moving cars and sometimes speeding down the emergency lane. I had to get there. I found myself calling my closest friends as I sped down the highway. I needed to cry to someone and they were always there for me. I needed to try and get my grief out of the way before I arrived at the hospital. I needed to take some of my sister's pain away, so I had no room for my own. My friends listened to me cry and cried with me. Many offered to come be with us at the hospital, but I knew my entire, amazing family would be there, and they were.
A few hours later I arrived at the hospital in Clarksville. I took a deep breath and wiped my face. It did no good. I got out of the car and opened the back door to retrieve my bag. On top laid the two unused and adorable little baby boy outfits. I cringed and began to cry uncontrollably. I moved them to the side and hurried inside to be with my sister and my family.
No reason to bring them along.
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Nothing could have prepared me for the scene that I walked into when I reached the maternity ward of the hospital.
There waiting in the stark white hallways was almost my entire extended family. Some standing, some sitting on the floor, some embracing, but all with the most somber of expressions and the puffiest red eyes imaginable. Everyone was hurting. I don't remember who I hugged first, but one after one, my family came to embrace me. It felt so good to be there finally.
I was told that Krystal was in the room with the nurse and that she was getting checked for progress. That's right, progress; my sister was going to have to deliver my nephew. She had been induced an hour earlier and labor appeared to be slow. I didn't understand why they just couldn't do a c-section, but then I realized nothing could lessen the pain my sister was feeling. She was lying in a room with her unborn and lifeless son still inside her and I was about to be faced with that exact reality.
Shortly after the nurse left the room, I was guided in by my aunt and dad. I didn't want Krys to see me so upset and weak, but i needed to let her know that I was there. I remember walking around the divider curtain that was hanging just inside the room to one of the saddest scenes I have ever seen, well, it was the saddest up until that point. The next few days were full of moments that were even more heartbreaking. My sister was sitting up in the hospital bed with her loving husband to her right. She was holding his hand and they were both expressionless and empty. She raised her head and walked over to her, hugged her and kissed her and just cried. We both cried. Waylon cried. Everyone cried. I don't recall the words I said to her and I'm sure she doesn't either. Much of that night was a blur. I do remember the monitor to the left side of the bed that was recording her contractions, and even more so I remember the lack of a fetal heart monitor. I had been in a delivery room with a few of my friends and I knew something was missing; it was the vibrant heartbeat of a baby that was absent.
I spent several hours in the room with her and Waylon but we really didn't talk about much. My sister would sit there and stare at the walls, at Waylon, at the chair across the room. She was doing everything in her power not to look down at her protruding belly. I couldn't look either. I remember a few weeks earlier when she had sent me a video of Wyatt moving in her belly so much that she easily recorded it on her cell phone and sent it to me. He was always so active! Once he even kicked so hard that the remote she had placed on her stomach for reference flew up and almost fell off her! Now that same belly was still. There was no movement at all. This was not how it was supposed to be dammit! I was so mad that this was happening to my family, to my best friend. She did everything right, she was full term and yet, here we were awaiting the arrival of a baby that would never take a breath. It was so unfair! Krystal would go for long periods of time without weeping, but I knew she was still hurting. She would randomly say things like, "I wanna take my baby home" or "All that stuff! What are we gonna do with all his stuff?" That killed me. The lack of tears, i knew, was worse than crying. She was dying inside.
We all took turns sitting with her and then about 2:00 am a few of us decided to get a room at the hotel next door. We didn't want to leave, but were told that it would be morning before she was ready to deliver her angel baby. I wanted to be rested because I knew the next day would prove to be even more emotionally draining.
We woke up the next morning to the news that it would still be hours before Wyatt would be born, so I decided to go to my sister's house and see my niece. I needed to see her smile and feel her tiny arms around my neck. She has a way of bringing the sun to the darkest days. I rode out to the house with Waylon. That was another excruciating drive. For thirty minutes we took turns being silent and took turns crying, and then we came to the agreement that we would not allow ourselves to cry in front of Lyla. We arrived and Little Miss Thing was in the yard playing with Waylon's mom. She ran up and gave us both hugs as soon as we stepped out of the car. God created Lyla for many reasons that I am sure. She is one amazing little girl who has a way of making you laugh when that's the last thing you wanna do. She was our little ray of sunshine.
At about that time, Waylon got a call and all of a sudden he was in a panic. Krys was ready to push. Labor had progressed much quicker than anticipated and he and his mom jumped back into the car and took off. It was just me and the princess left behind. I was lost for a second. I wanted to be there when he finally came, but I wanted to be there with my niece too. She kept begging me to play with her. I tried my best, but my mind was racing and my heart was heavy. She knew to an extent what was going on and you could tell she was noticing the sadness on everyone's face. How was she gonna react when Wyatt never came home? She was so excited about being a big sister and I don't blame her; being a big sister has been one of the most rewarding roles of my life. Everyone needs a sibling or two, in my opinion. I stayed at the house with her for about 30 minutes until my uncle arrived to take me back to the hospital so I could be there with my family. He took Lyla to a hotel to eat waffles and watch cartoons. We wanted to protect her from reality as long as we could. There I was back at those double glass sliding doors. I was about to meet my nephew. About to say hello to him and then say goodbye all in the same breath.
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Once I arrived back in the maternity ward, there sat my entire family again. Some of them were sitting on the floor, some in chairs, other leaning on walls and on each other.It was quiet except for the sniffles and random sobs. I was told that Krystal was still in delivery, but that they thought she had already had Wyatt because the screams and cries had calmed down. I could still faintly hear her crying and tried to imagine what was going on behind that door. About thirty minutes passed and nurse Sherry came out and informed us of what we already knew and them some other details about the birth.
My first nephew, Wyatt Michael Forgey was born at 9:00 a.m, and although I knew it wouldn’t be what I had imagined for the last nine months, I couldn’t wait to hold him. After a little while, Sherry came out to say that grandparents and great grandparents were now wanted in the room to meet sweet Wyatt. A few moments after that, the siblings of Krystal and Waylon were summoned.
It was time. I made my way to my feet and walked somewhat reluctantly but excitedly into the room. I can’t tell you from this point on what transpired but a few moments stand out in my mind in great detail. I remember him being passed from the loving arms of each of Waylon’s sisters, to my brother,and then finally to me.
His cheeks were full and rosy. His lips a crimson red,and his hair that peaked out from the newborn hat he was wearing, was a rich brown. I took my fingers and grazed his cheeks and I kissed his forehead and nose repeatedly. I wanted to take in every single detail of this precious angel. I even stuck my index finger underneath his tiny fingers, and for some reason expected a squeeze from the tiny hand.Nothing. He appeared to be sleeping, but even for a newborn, his body was more limp than it should have been.
We took extra caution when passing him, making sure to cradle his head and keep him close to us. This went on for hours. My Aunts, Uncles and Cousins eventually came in to meet the little man too. We kept telling Waylon and Krystal how beautiful he was and how perfect, but they already knew. One of my uncles even fell to his knees in anguish when he saw the little angel for the first time. A man of strength who I have never seen show any emotion or cry was brought to his knees. Although filled with sadness beyond belief,this tiny room was bringing us all together. It was hard to be in there, but I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
At one point it was just me, Krystal, Waylon and Wyatt in the room. Krys asked me to take Wyatt from her so she could go to the bathroom. The nurse came in, and her and Waylon helped my sister from the bed to the bathroom. I sat in the chair with Wyatt in my arms and I just stared at him. I couldn’t stop smiling. For some strange reason a sense of peace and comfort came over me even though my heart was broken in a million pieces. I rocked him back and forth as I would to comfort any new baby, and I carefully brushed the hair off his forehead. Oh how I loved my sweet nephew. I spent about 15 minutes holding him and whispering to him how much I loved him and how I couldn’t wait to see him again in Heaven. I kissed his sweet cheeks and eventually handed him back to my sister.
She sat in the bed and began to sing to him. I watched as she gathered the blanket around his neck, rocked him back and sang the words to the most familiar and fitting of songs.
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
that saved a wretch like me… I once was lost,
but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”
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