Threads of Memory: The Onesie That Remains

September 26,2024

I’ve decided to start blogging about Orion Kai and the journey of grief that followed. This space is for me to not only work through my healing but also to share my story instead of keeping it hidden. Grief and child loss are often shrouded in silence, and I hope to challenge that stigma by speaking openly about my experience.

You don’t have to follow along if it’s not something you’re ready for, but I’m grateful for anyone who chooses to walk this path with me. This is the first step in what will be an ongoing journey of reflection, healing, and honoring Orion’s memory.

I sit with a warm cup of coffee, sorting through a basket of clean, folded laundry that has been left untouched for longer than I care to admit. As I pull out each item, I unexpectedly find one of Orion’s onesies. I thought I had packed them all away. This isn’t just any onesie, this is the first one I ever allowed myself to buy for him.

If you know me well, you know we’ve experienced several losses before Orion. I was always cautious, never buying baby items too soon, afraid of the “what ifs.” But this onesie was different. It felt safe to buy, like a small leap of faith. It marked the beginning of his Winnie the Pooh theme.

I remember dressing him in it. It was the first thing I changed him into after the hospital outfit the nurse had put on him. I was waiting for the photographer, getting him ready for his pictures, carefully brushing through his beautiful red hair, making sure it was perfect.

Now, holding the onesie in my hands, I feel the tears welling up, but I don’t let myself break down. The laundry still needs to be finished. Instead, I quietly walk over to my husband and stand before him, unable to find the words.

“Put it in his box,” he says softly, his voice full of understanding.

“But it doesn’t smell like him anymore,” I mutter, pressing the fabric closer to my face, as if hoping to catch just one last trace.

“But it was still his,” he replies, the quiet certainty in his words offering comfort.

This is Love. This is Healing. This is Grief.