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You're going to want to grab your tissues. I'll wait.
For just a moment, can you imagine with me what it would feel like to have your baby die?
Valerie's baby boy, Noah, was stillborn.
There is no pain like that pain.
There is no pain like sitting in a complete nursery, waiting for a new baby that will never come home. There is no pain like packing up tiny clothes, folding tiny blankets, putting the car seat in the attic, putting the disassembled crib in the garage.
I know that pain, because I too did all of those things. I sat on the floor of our baby girl's room, all pink and frilly and ready for her. I folded the dresses. I packed away the music box that my father bought for her, a gift when I found out I was pregnant.
I can feel a fragment of Valerie's pain. I cannot imagine the pain Valerie must have felt when when she sold her baby's things.
But that's what she did. What else do you do with a room full of things you aren't going to use?
And that's where Gerald comes in.
Gerald, who bought Noah's crib, had no idea what he was purchasing until his wife told him about Valerie and baby Noah. Then Gerald took the sadness of the empty crib and turned it into a beautiful memorial for that sweet boy.
Yeah, he turned the crib into a chair. And then he gave it to Valerie.
Got those tissues?
Valerie, I'm sending you all the love and solidarity I possess. And Gerald, thank you for honoring the memory of a baby that many people will forget ever existed.