I am kind of at a loss for words today. The last couple weeks the weight of my sons death seems to be crushing me. I've read that you can literally die from a broken heart. I'm kind of surprised I haven't. It has been 10 weeks since I last held my son and I would give anything to be able to do so again, even just one more time.
I remember the morning I dropped him off at daycare. He had a snotty nose, but the only thing that seemed to bother him was when I used the rubber suction ball to get some of it out. As usual my 3 year old, who is not a morning person, cried from the moment I woke him up until we arrived at their daycare ladies house. Boston was a truly funny little boy. I would pack him up in his car seat and bring both of them downstairs. Quinton always insisted I put him in the car first so I would set Boston right by the door, quickly buckle Q into his car seat and run back in to get my Bosty. He would always have what his daycare lady and I call "the crunchy eyebrow look" on his face. There is no way to describe it so here are a few pictures.
The funny faces he made were my most favorite thing on this earth. After arriving at their daycare and bringing them inside, I kissed Bosty's forehead a few times, gave Q a hug, and told their daycare lady that I was pretty happy that my mother was the one taking him to get his first shots that afternoon because I recall what a mess I was when Quinton got his. I told them I loved them and would see them later, and then I left.
It truly kills me to say I have now been without my son for longer than I had him. Not a day goes by that I don't constantly wonder why his perfect little self was taken from me. On Saturday the 24th, the day that marked Boston being gone for as long as he was here, my family and close friends released balloons in his memory. It was beautiful to have the people that know just how much was lost the day that he died there with me to help send my Bosty some love.
I was going to write a blog on the 24th, but couldn't bring myself to do it. This is what I shared on Facebook that day.
Well my darling fatboy, today is the day. I have now been without you for as many days as I had you. I am heart broken. Truly, completely, and utterly heart broken. Since you left I have clung tightly to knowing I had you for longer than you'd been gone. I no longer get to do that. I have cursed this day and begged that it not come, but here it is. I truly hope you're up there smiling and blowing spit bubbles, and that heaven is everything you deserve. Today I'm pretty mad at the angels that welcomed you because it just wasn't supposed to happen this way. You are supposed to be here with me. I am supposed to be laughing at those spit bubbles. My heart is supposed to be smiling at your beautiful face. Instead, I am left here silently screaming at how much this hurts. Do the angels tell you about me and how much I love you? Do they let you know just how much you are wanted? I
think that is one of the hardest parts, not knowing. Mothers are supposed to protect and guide their children and I just can't comprehend that I don't know if YOU know just how much I ache to do that.
I would never wish a single moment of sadness upon you, but I do hope you know that you have a mommy here on earth that misses you each second of the day. There is a gigantic and ruthless cloud that follows me around. It scares me, it taunts me, and it makes my life so very hard. That cloud came when you left, and now it will not leave no matter how much I beg it to disappear and give you back to me. I want you back. I want to know that you're okay. I want to kiss your fat cheeks. I want to sit with you in my arms for hours. I want to play with your silly hair. I want you next to me so that I can keep you safe, because that is how it should be. You here with me. Please come visit me in my dreams, Bosty. I need something besides this nightmare.
I don't think many people realize that this is not just a story, this is my life. My son was not some imaginary baby, I am not an imaginary mother. I am real. He is real. Our pain is real. He may not physically be on this earth anymore but that will never alter how significantly he changed our lives. Losing a child is not something anyone can wrap their minds around, even going through it myself I do not understand. I'm not sure how many people take our situation seriously. I constantly talk about my son and a lot of people don't know what to say, or get very uncomfortable when I do talk in
detail about him. All I can say is I know that there's not many words one can say to actually comfort me, but at one point I hadn't ever lost a child either. Now I have, and I will never give up on keeping his memory alive.
"The one who put gentle footprints on our hearts leaves a story worth telling."
I do not know if my comment posted or not put I just wrote you a long comment and I guess it did not.
ReplyDeleteI am so terribly sorry for the loss of your beautiful baby boy Boston. I sit here sobbing. There are completely no words. I too, am a mother of loss. I am a 27 year old mother to a beautiful 4.5 year old (my rainbow as they say) and to a beautiful angel, Naomi Hope who is in Heaven. I had her at 28 weeks in 2009, du to severe preeclampsia. She was born 1 lb 12 oz absolutely perfect. She was in the NICU for 35 days and tragically got very sick and passed away. The scene you described with the nurses, just how I came to see with my daughter. I remember falling asleep on the 3rd floor of the hospital (the chapel area) I had wanted to say goodnight to my beautiful girl I was ringing the doorbell of the NICU but no one answered. I thought okay Ill just see her in the morning. I fell asleep praying. I woke up to a call on my cell phone at 3:46 am from the hospital, the hospital that I was asleep in. I dont remember what they said but all I know and remember is racing to the elevator going to the 2nd floor. I began banging on the NICU door to let me in. I see 5-6 nurses and the doctor surrounding my beautiful baby girl in her isolette. They told me that Naomi was not going to make it. They asked me if i had someone to call to be with me. I called my mother. She raced there in the middle of the night. They did emergency surgery on her, I remember the one nurse fighting with the pharmacist the night before to get the meds she needed. I remember the xrays coming in and out I remember being able to touch her. I didnt understad why they were allowing me to touch her because we always had to do a huge scrub down before touching my sweet Naomi or holding her in NICU. My mom and I sat back while they worked on her, my mom prayed the our father. they asked us to come over, and while they were giving her respiratory help and doing everything they could I was just in shock. I then kept watching the monitor and her heart rate just kept going down and finally the flat line. I saw the look on the nurses faces and the doctor started walking to me. I just dropped to the ground, in hysterics. Screaming, my baby, My baby. My angel was pronounced at 5:20 in the morning, an angel, an angel of God. It will be 6 years on Monday. THe pain never goes away. But I tell you, I would not be here today if it werent for the amazing support of complete strangers and moms alike, who have been through similar loss as us, compared to my own friends and family. Yes they helped but I dont know something about this awful group we belong to, the mothers we all share something. I am so sorry for your loss. I will pray for you, I will pray. Please if you ever need to talk, scream, cry, vent, whatever you need to do, I am here. I will send you my email. Naomisadie916@gmail.com 954 232 7552 is my cell. I know I am a complete stranger, but I understand, I know what you are going through. I wish I didnt, but I just want you to know I am here. THank you for sharing your beautiful baby boy, the pictures are beautiful.
Thank you so much it means more than I can explain. I appreciate anyone and everyone who has taken the time to read our story. I just can't wait to see him again someday and I'm sure you feel the same about your angel baby. Very sorry to hear about your loss also. Thank you for sharing your story with me!
DeleteI'm so sorry for your loss. You are a beautiful writer and I was crying while reading this. Thank you for sharing Boston's story.
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