As I'm sure you saw, today was just as hard as Momma anticipated. But, it's almost over. On this chilly, rainy, late April Easter Sunday I was overwhelmed by the unfairness and emptiness of the holiday without you. You should have been here to run around, chasing eggs, discovering chocolate bunnies and baskets. You should have been wearing a special outfit while we snapped tons of pictures. Instead...it's just a day. A sad day. I had to suck the air out of the meaning of the day to survive. It's a Sunday. A day. Just a day.
I think back to last Easter with joy, peace, appreciation. It was a warm, balmy Easter and we got to visit in the sunshine with our families...sharing our special Peanut. You were all smiles for most of the day, but refused to take a nap. Stubborn 'Nut, just like your Momma! I was so concerned that you'd be a tired, cranky boy by the time we got to Gram and Pop's house. But we got there, changed you into a comfy outfit and you charmed everyone - Gram especially - with smiles and hugs. I've included some of my most favorite Peanut pics from that very day. Peanut in his Froggy Jammies. Deeeeeelightful. I can almost feel the sunshine, smell the warm breeze of that day as I gaze at your glow.
Sweet Peanut. You are the sunshine in my heart and tears on my face this evening. Love, love, love. To the moon and back.
- Momma
You've been in my thoughts and prayers today. Hugs coming your way!
ReplyDeleteJust came across your blog...first of all, I'm so sorry for your loss ((big hugs)). My daughter is almost 17 months, it brings tears to my eyes just to even think about what you're going through...I couldn't find your e-mail address so please forgive me for asking this in comment form (feel free to delete)...have you found an answer for what happened? I used to work in a lab that did a test to find out what might have happened to infants/toddlers...if you want more info, feel free to e-mail me (biogrrll@animail.net). So sorry again for your loss.
ReplyDeleteHi. You don't know me; I was given your blog by our sweet friend and former pediatrician, Kristen Anderson. She actually forwarded me your blog last Thursday; I devoured each and every post in the span of an hour. My daughter was at her therapy appointment, and I just sat in the waiting room reading and crying. You and your family have been on my heart ever since that day, and I particularly thought of you yesterday. I had a feeling it would be an awful day, and I'm so sorry it was.
ReplyDeleteI have been thinking for days what I would write to you, and nothing great has come to mind. I just have absolutely no words for your tragedy. It is horrible, and every time I think of what you've been through, I want to sob. It's completely unfair. I'm just so, so sorry.
Your blog is so wonderful. I've never met your son, but he came alive to me through your words and pictures. You are right when you say he has touched people; I can't imagine ever forgetting his story, his beautiful blue eyes or that adorable grin. You are amazing - what a legacy you have made for that sweet boy. And you are so right about nurses and doctors never forgetting the patients that touched their hearts. Before I had kids, I was a pediatric ER nurse...your story immediately made me think of a 2-year old boy (named Connor, coincidentally) that we lost to drowning on the 4th of July. That was in 2003, and I still remember his green eyes and his mother's tears. I tell you this not to make you sad, but to reassure you that your son won't be forgotten, either.
This December I gave birth to my little girl, Beatrice Heather. She was induced at 20 weeks with severe birth defects (no lungs, no diaphram, brain, heart and liver abnormalities). She passed before I met her. While I don't know, can't imagine, the pain of losing a child I've had for 20 months, giving birth to Baby Bee was the most devastating thing I ever went through. I just want to tell you to hold on, Angel Mama. You are touching lives of people you've never met, and they - I - am praying for you constantly. I'm sending you so much love.
-Erin Geary