So today in the morning at about 10:12, my second son whose name is Alexander James McKnight was born. However, he was only 19 weeks and 4 days along in gestation. He didn't make it. As I write this I feel only numbness now. It has been almost 12 hours since he passed. We'll be released from the hospital either today or tomorrow so we'll take him home with us. And bury him on our land, on his home.
What happened was at 4 am Ash had her water break, under normal circumstances it'd be fine, a bit riskier, but fine. But this wasn't normal. She had as a result of the breakage is what is called an "umbilical prolapse." Which due to the cervix would become kinked like a garden hose cutting off his life line. We had to make a choice. Wait till 24 weeks and have him then, which would slowly suffocate him and be tortuous and also increase he risk of major infection risking the lives of both Ash and Alex. Or have him now and prevent him from suffering. We chose he latter.
Right now I have cried for 8 hours straight. And I can't feel anything anymore. It's not the job of a father to bury his son. I love you Alexander James McKnight, we'll meet again in the Summerland.