What every parent should never have to know

Saturday January 3rd, 1994:

Today is the day that we finally were able to go out house hunting.  We've been in Nashville TN since the day after Thanksgiving, staying with my sister and her husband in a 2 bedroom townhouse.  It's a little crowded there and we are ready to start settling down in a place of our own. We loaded up all the kids, Jennifer, April, Vanessa, Kristin, Ashli and Scooter, and drove around looking for houses for sale or rent.  We found one that looked very interesting.  Kinda big, noticed two fireplaces, one at each end of the house, the yard looks plenty big enough and the porch is one of my dreams.  I love a full porch that extends across the whole front of a house, just so happens that this one is twice the size of the normal front porch.  I have visions of sitting out here watching the kids play and the cars drive by.  I think it reminds me of my childhood and the house my grandparents had for years.  I remember playing Mother May I and Red light/Green light on that porch with my cousins.  It was so big and so long, so much room to play there.  We'll probably call about the house on Monday.  

We don't splurge too often, but after all that driving around today, we stopped at Arby's for lunch.  I only mention it because today is the first time that Scooter has tasted anything other than formula or baby food.  I allowed him to try a couple of french fries.  He absolutely loved them!! Sitting here typing this, I am picturing him with the fry tightly held in his fist, fist held to his mouth and him happily mouthing the fry. Returns a smile to my face.  After we returned home I sat on the couch watching all my children sitting on the floor in front of the tv watching a program together.  Yes, all of them, even though Scooter is only 3 1/2 months old, he happily watches the motion on tv, often waving at his sisters and making happy noises.  

It's rare that I get to spend a whole day with my family since we moved here.  I work so much trying to get enough money to get us started on our own.  Scott hasn't found anything permanent yet. He's worked a few days at a couple of temp jobs, but the way I've been working, he is doing better playing Mr. Mom for now.  Which is okay. I have always been the primary caretaker for the kids for the first year or two after they are born, and I see nothing wrong with letting him spend as much time as possible with his first son.  He's only a baby for so long.  Tonight, I held Scooter for a couple of hours, not wanting to put him down.  I've felt guilty for not being able to spend as much time with him as I have his sisters.  I've promised him that things are going to change soon and Mama will be home more.  I'll be able to spend more time with him, because I really want to.  I held him close and told him how much I loved him while his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep. Finally I was too tired to stay awake myself and I needed to go to the bathroom, so I laid him on the other side of the couch so I could pull out the bed on the side of the couch we were on.  Well, I had Scott pull it out while I got ready for bed.  I laid my head on the pillow feeling really good about my day, and my evening.  It had been a good one.

Sunday January 4th 1994:

I always love Sunday.  I get up, get the girls up and ready for church, then after I send them off, I have about 3 hours to spend with Scott and if he's awake, with Scooter.  Today, I awoke to an odd feeling.  Scooter didn't look right.  He wasn't right, he was purple and he was stiff, he wasn't breathing. Omg, my baby wasn't breathing.   We had no phone. I ran around pounding on doors.  I needed a phone, I needed someone to call 911.  It didn't matter, we were too late.  Sometime during the night, my baby had died. I don't want to remember this day. Not one minute of it.  But I am forgetting none of it.  I don't want to remember the ambulance finally arriving, the police showing up.  The questions that were asked.  I couldn't think.  I didn't want to think. I wanted them to help my baby, make him breath again.  Get rid of the purple on his skin.  I want my girls to stop looking at me with confusion on their faces.  I want my husband to not have tears streaming down his face, and that look like someone has punched him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him, gone.  Most of all, I want to go back to sleep and wake up all over to the sound of my baby crying for his morning bottle and the girls fighting over who is going to wear what.   Today my infant son of only 3 1/2 months old has died.  If not for my family around me, I would like nothing more than to join him.  I don't want to write any more today.

Friday January 4th 2008:

This morning I woke up at my daughters house, on her corner sectional couch.  I looked to the other side of the couch and saw my 16 year old daughter laying there. Eyes open and looking at me.  This was almost eerie to me.  I sat here and thought about why it would feel so strange.  Then realized that 14 years ago today, I awoke similarly.  The difference was that I was at my sisters house then, the corner sectional actually had been pulled out so that the bed was visible, and I was laying next to my now ex husband.  The child laying on the other side of the couch was not looking at me, and never would look at anyone again.  This is the first time in 14 years, I've woken up and realized it was the anniversary of my son's death.  I don't know why today, after all these years I've remembered.  And I guess it doesn't really matter why.  The fact is, I've remembered.  It has made me reflect on the years in between, to remember my son during his very short life.  To once again celebrate in my mind that he did live and he did die.  To remember that of all the things that have happened to me that are not so good over the last year or two, to remember that I still have the rest of my kids and that Scooter is never very far from my thoughts.  Not a day ever goes by that I don't think of him, and wonder what he would be like now.  Who he would have chosen to live with now that his father and I are no longer together, or even if he had survived, would his father and I still be together?  No one knows how things could be if other things hadn't occurred.  Sometimes I wish he had just disappeared and was out there alive still, and would one day show up on my doorstep.  I wonder how many parents out there lose children to death at young ages and still have that fantasy in the back of their mind, knowing that it will never happen.  No, I'll not see my son again until my time has come.  I'll probably never know why I thought of him as clearly as I did this morning, but I know it won't be the last time.  My prayer for all parents today is that they never have to know what it feels like to lose a child of any age.  But if they do, hold onto the love that you share.  Because one day out of the blue, you may wake up and feel that love presence around you.  Don't fight it. Go with it, and if it makes you want to shed a few tears of grief, even 14 years later, do it.

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