Kimberly ❤️
A week later and we're still in the hospital. It's like we live here now. The doctors said he was getting better, but he was only getting worse.
His headaches were getting worse. He was getting more weak. His skin color was lighter than what it actually is. Day by day, I feel like he's slipping further and further away from me.
The rest of the kids came to say hello. But as quick as they came is as fast as they went. Between school and practices, plus Dak's practices, the kids barely had time to visit.
I watched as Jeremiah slept. I still haven't left his side, and I don't plan on doing so. Dak tells me that he misses me being home and sleeping in the bed. But this is my new bed. This brown chair sitting by Jeremiah's bed.
I held his hand firmly, kissing it.
"Hey Jeremiah, you wanna know something?" I say.
I smile, running my fingers through his hair.
"The family misses you so much. Especially me." I say, smiling still.
I allowed some tears to fall, as I looked at him. I sigh.
"Aww baby, I love you so much. And I just want you to know, I always will." I say, rubbing his hand.
I wiped away some tears.
"I want you to continue this fight, because I know you're a winner. I just know you are." I say, kissing his hand.
I sat there for a couple more minutes, waiting for something. Anything.
What I got in response was not good though. I watched his grip around his Storm Trooper loosen. The numbers on the machine dropped low and my eyes widened.
"No. Nurse! Nurse!" I call.
She ran in quickly. She ran back out and got a few more other doctors before entering again.
Before I knew it, I was being removed from the room.
"What's wrong? Wait, I wanna stay." I exclaim.
"Miss, you have to step out so we can fix what's wrong." The male nurse said.
"I wanna know what's wrong with my son!" I exclaim, crying.
"Miss." He states.
I was still being pushed out.
"Jeremiah baby? Wake up please! Wake up for mommy! Please." I say, trying to hold onto the edge of the doorway.
With the strength of two nurses, I was removed from the room. I was closed outside.
"My baby." I cry.
I sat in the waiting room for a good 30 minutes. I probably looked a wreck. Tear stained cheeks, messy hair, etc.
A nurse walked out of the room and I immediately stood up.
"How is he? Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay." I state, frantically.
He sighed.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Prescott. We tried everything we could to resuscitate him, but it just wasn't working. We're truly sorry." He explained.
There was no reason to hold back tears anymore. I silently cried for a good 3 minutes, before letting any noises out.
"My baby! No!" I cry, dropping to my knees.
"If you want to say your final goodbyes, you can. But once again, we're truly sorry for your loss. It's hard losing a child." He said.
He soon walked away, leaving me to bask in my own sadness. I found enough strength to stand up and walk into the room.
The nurses were unhooking the machines from him as I was walking in. My heart dropped at the sight of his lifeless body.
I walked to his bedside, unable to contain my tears. He was gone. He was actually gone. After a month of fighting, he gave in.
I cradled his tiny head in my arms as I cried. I wanted him back. He didn't deserve this. I should be the one gone, not him. He had a whole life ahead of him.
"Jeremiah no. You're okay. You're gonna be okay. I swear you're gonna be okay. I promised you that you'd be okay. Wake up baby boy. Please. Don't leave me." I cry, laying my head against his.
He wasn't moving. That's when I realized this was real. But I was determined that it wasn't over.
"I love you so so so so much. Okay? I want you to know that. I want you to know that I'm not burying you. You're gonna open your eyes right now and give mommy a big smile." I say, wiping my tears off his face.
"Miss, we have to take him now." The nurse said.
"No. You're not taking my boy. He's not dead. I know he's not." I protest.
"Miss, please." He pleaded.
"No." I exclaim.
Soon, they were working on detaching me from my child.
"Jeremiah please! Don't leave me baby boy! Please no!" I cry.
He was covered up with the white sheet. They then wheeled him out of the room, leaving me to curl up on the floor and cry. I grabbed his Storm Trooper and curled up with it.
I began thinking about how I was going to tell everyone that Jeremiah is gone. I didn't want to, but they'd have to know pretty soon.
I know for a fact Dak was going to take this the hardest. Jordan and Elijah will too, because that's who they shared a room with.
But I know for sure they won't have it as bad as me. I gave birth to that beautiful boy 6 years ago. Now he never gets to see the rest of his life. All because of health issues.
I hated this. Having to plan my 6 year olds funeral. It's supposed to be vice versa. Him planning my funeral and telling me that everything is going to be okay. But I guess god had other plans.
I guess I was on the floor for too long, because a nurse had to tap me and tell me to leave. I stood up with his Storm Trooper and exited the room.
Walking out of the hospital doors was possibly the worst feeling ever. I wanted to walk out of here with a son as healthy as an Ox. Instead, I walk out with a broken heart and the last object he held before dying.
And now the last thing on my mind was telling everyone he's gone.
