The smallest caskets are the heaviest. You don’t truly know what that means, until you’re actually experiencing just that. To me, it meant that all the love and accomplishments that child was to have in life are all stuffed with him, in this tiny casket.

After everything I've been through in life, you would think that by now, I had the ability to compartmentalize my emotions.

I don't.

The day we found out our baby died before being born wrecked us. The next morning, for my scheduled delivery, I refused to leave the house. In my mind, I told myself, if I didn't go, then everything would be okay, and I would deliver our baby when he or she was supposed to be due, and that was final. That night, I dreamt, and of course it was of the one person who made me feel better and always made me feel safe. My best friend Tyler.

Tyler protected me from my abusive stepfather. He was there for me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save him when my stepbrother sought revenge by killing him in retaliation. But, even though Tyler was gone, he came to me in my dreams that night, and he was holding my baby...under a willow tree, of course.

"He looks like you, you know?"

I gazed at Tyler as he sat against that damn willow tree, rocking my baby back and forth, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito.

"It's a boy?" I asked him in awe.

He smiled not looking at me. "Of course, it is. You knew it was a boy from the beginning." After a few minutes, he finally looked up at me. "You know, I'll take care of him for you. He will always be safe." I watched as he played with his little hand. "And when you're ready to see him again, he'll be here waiting. But not for a long time. Okay, Willow?”

My heart melted at the nickname he used for me.

I awoke from that dream, and immediately cried. I cried for hours, and Grayson held me, until I finally turned to him and said “okay”.

---

Sebastian Logan-Lee Mandrake was born the next morning at 9:13 a.m. A part of me was still hoping he would cry after I did the last push. That cry never came, no matter how much I prayed for it. Even when they handed him to me, after saying it’s a boy, I still prayed for a sound. Any sound. I would give my life just to hear the sound. But it never came, only silence and death showed up.

“He looks like you,” Grayson said as he peered over my shoulder. I smiled, because I already knew he did. Tyler told me so. I rocked him, even though I didn’t have to. I handed him to Grayson, and Grayson cried as he held his little hand. “I always dreamed of having a son…” Grayson choked on the last part. “You are so handsome. You’re a King,” he whispered, as he moved closer to me in bed and we shared the only and final moments we had with our son together.

We were hesitant about taking pictures. I thought it was a bit odd, but Grayson said he at least wanted one, and so I wanted to give him that. I later understood why he wanted it. Why anyone wanted it. Because, I wanted it, too.

Every day, I asked why? What did I do wrong for him to die? We’re all going to die anyway, but it wasn’t his time.

A memorial service was held a few days later. I tried playing hostess, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even want to come out of my room, as people came to offer their condolences. Grayson, managed to say a few choked up words, as he held me next to him tightly. It was the releasing of the blue balloons at Sebastian’s memorial that broke me.

I started wondering if he felt any pain, and I prayed that he didn’t. Before, the casket was lowered, I gently placed my hand on his casket, and whispered to him that his Uncle Tyler was going to take good care of him for me. After all, Sebastian had Tyler's middle name.

It took months for us to fully cope. Grayson and I fought constantly. Half the time it was about nothing, I simply just wanted to argue, because I was tired of being silent.

We started counseling three times a week. I hated it, and didn’t want anything to do with it, but for the sake of our marriage, and our family I went.

Six months later we’re better now. Will we try again? Who knows. Of course, no one ever knows what the future holds.