Goodbye, Ethan.

Today would have been Ethan’s due date. He was our grandson who, born July 24. He died July 25. He was born at 21 weeks, too young to survive. Too young, even, to save. He was born to our youngest son, Chad, and his girlfriend, Allison, and we happened to be visiting them when it happened.

The pregnancy was high risk from the beginning. She was in her mid-thirties and got pregnant even though she had an IUD. The IUD could not be removed after she became pregnant and threatened both Ethan and Allison. It was possible we could have lost them both.

I haven’t talked about it much. There was enough grief going around at the time and I didn’t need to add to that. Plus, most of my friends have never even met Chad. Yes, it was sad - super, super sad - but the loss was theirs, not mine. I had only met Allison the day before. I was not invested like they were.

I got to meet him but I will eternally regret that I didn’t hold him. I was afraid to. I had literally just met Ethan’s mother and witnessed Ethan’s death. It seemed too intimate a time to ask if I could hold her baby. I should have, though. I should have.

Today might have been Ethan’s birthday. Instead, it’s his Memorial.

Goodbye, Ethan.