A box filled with beautiful keepsakes that I didn’t ask for. They were not what we wanted and they were all we had left. I resented that box. I wanted nothing to do with that box.
Who could ever want a box when they were supposed to have a baby?
It didn’t matter how beautiful the items were or how thoughtful the intention. All that mattered was I entered the hospital expecting to bring home a baby and I left with a box.
That box felt all wrong in my hands, but still, I couldn’t put it down. It was all that was left of the life we lost. It was all we had left of our baby who died. There was nothing in that box that I wanted but it represented all I had ever dreamed of.