After a long 12 hours flight home after a vacation, I was clearing my emails, and that’s when I stumbled upon something I had kinda put aside – an email from Lifecell, the bank where we have preserved Ayden’s cord cells.
It was a payment notification. Starting with an advanced birthday wishes for our bundle of joy & wishing him a healthy, happy & prosperous life ahead, the email said – This year as your baby’s birthday is around the corner, it is time to renew the precious preserved stem cells of your child with us. Kindly make the annual storage fee payment before due date to treasure the precious gift you gave your child, another year...
Lifecell would send me emails almost every 2 weeks or on any special occasions. It was too hard to read “your child is protected for life” in every email that I received. I conveniently filtered all emails from them to a separate folder, so all future emails would automatically go into the folder and I don’t have to encounter them at odd times. I can go to them at my convenience.
They must have been sending me emails on the payment, but it never came to my sight because it was all in the folder.
Have you ever been stamped on your chest by a heavy-built person, like in those movies? That’s exactly how I felt. Maybe a little harder than that.
Not that I didn’t think about it earlier, but I had put it in the corner of my thoughts that Ayden’s stem cells are still here on this earth. The email just triggered all the thoughts from day 1, when during C-section the doctor raised her voice from the other side of the screen “I’m collecting the cord blood ok?”. I don’t think my “ok” reached her with the oxygen mask obstructing the sound waves.
I had gotten a package from them 2 months after Ayden’s passing. The package contained hardcopy of the preservation certificate, a baby on board sign, their booklet & most importantly it said wishing your baby a healthy & happy life. Ayushmaan bhava!
That wasn’t good.
I put the certificate & the booklet along with all his hospital documents. I put the baby on board sign with his other belongings in his pink basket.
I had asked my husband then if we should continue with the payment next June when it comes. He said yes. I wouldn’t have thought otherwise too.
The email was hard because of the realization & cloudy-sorta-happiness that a part of him is still here, on this earth, in a bank. It was harder because we’ll be preserving it for life for something that will never be of use.