XO, Isabel

Hope and Courage: Our Surrogacy Journey

Poem: Little Leo

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While I’ve been working hard on expressing my innermost feelings through writing this blog, my husband has been diligently sitting quietly with his ears filled with music writing. I thought he was simply keeping a journal, instead, he was writing a poem for our son.

He wanted me to share it with you.

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Little Leo

We prayed for strength and courage at the Kotel and Mount Zion,
Leaving notes as maps of hope leading to our little lion.

Monumental was the day we were blessed with this surprise,
Unmistakable the joy and love emblazoned in our eyes.

Along this journey we would stumble but never fall,
Your healthy heartbeat a beacon of hope to all.

I watched your little hand wave hello or maybe it was goodbye,
Eagerly embraced by happiness I would always cry.

Your Mother’s beauty radiates like rays of sunshine,
Playfully peaking around leaves to see this treasure of mine.

Her colossal courage and sacrifices you will never know,
The greatest Mother I could ever want for our Little Leo.

You grew from enduring love and hope to flesh and bone,
My thoughts now tormented by myriads of memories never known.

Perpetually I have cried an ominous river of tears,
Unbridled my anger flows along with my fears.

I feel hopelessly lost in a labyrinth of despair,
Guided only by the pain of knowing that this isn’t fair.

As parents we have so much love to give,
The King in our jungle of memories you will forever live.

Little Leo we will never feel your tranquil touch,
You are eternally etched in our hearts, we love you so much.

XO, Dad

A crimson heart

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We’ve been waiting for news on Leo’s remains. We were told we’d be notified when the Neptune Society had taken possession of his little body.

Today was that day. We received a call about an hour ago and I paid over the phone for him to be treated with dignity and care. Our Funeral Counselor has been trained well. To treat others with compassion. Simply hearing her say “I wanted you to know that we picked up your baby this morning and he’s in our care…” was enough for me to exhale and feel like we’re not the only ones on the planet that knew that he was a baby. OUR baby. And that he was real and his passing has caused deep sorrow and grief.

I know this is part of the process, but, I wept after hanging up the phone. I wept because I was relieved that he was no longer at the hospital and could finally have some sort of rest, some closure. I weep because I am anticipating the next phone call: He’s ready to be picked up.

He’ll be in his permanent home, a tiny little keepsake urn with his name engraved on it: Leo.

It’s a crimson heart, because just like in our hearts, his name will be forever engraved.

XO, IsabelGrecian_Series___CRM 3-458x324