I was okay…until I wasn’t

I survived.  I survived the one year anniversary of Harry’s passing.  And I did okay.  I survived the one year anniversary of holding his little body in my arms and kissing his little lips.  And I did okay.  I survived the one year anniversary of his memorial service.  And I did okay.  I survived the one year anniversary of placing his ashes in the ground.  And I did okay.

I started thinking about the holidays and how I was going to decorate.  We even took the boys to get their photos taken today.  We brought Harry’s puppy and made sure he was included in the photos.  I came home and started playing on Shutterfly.  So many specials right now.  It was fun to play.  I went to upload more photos from Dropbox to Shutterfly when it happened…

I wasn’t okay anymore…

I found the photos we had taken on the last day we held our baby boy.  The photos of us kissing his little body.  The photos of us having to say goodbye.

Pardon my language but FUCK!!!

Four days…

I broke early this morning.  Baby “W” started crying at 2:30 am.  I had only gotten about 15-20 minutes of sleep.  I started crying.  I woke my husband up and he took care of Baby “W”.  I sat in the living room chair and sobbed.  Harry was such a happy baby.  He rarely cried and always had a smile on his face.  I felt so defeated as a mother.  My newborn was crying in the bedroom and all I could do was think of my angel.  I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep.

But this is a side of me that I don’t show people other than three family members.

As Harry’s first angelversary draws closer, I become more scared.  I know that I am only holding on by a few threads and as each day comes to a close, one of those threads snap.  What is going to happen to me next Tuesday?

I love you, sweet boy, forever and always!

Five Days…

Five days…

Five days from now will mark one year since my beautiful angel took his last breath and grew his wings.  I never got to say goodbye.  I don’t remember the last kiss I gave him when he was still alive.  I remembering hearing him cry for the last time around 2 am that dreaded morning.  Daddy gave him a bottle and Harry drifted off the sleep and never woke up.  I hate myself for not being the one to give him his bottle.  Then, I could have had one last kiss, one last time to tell him that I loved him, one last time to tell him good night.  I truly hate myself.

I don’t want to live this life.  This is not how my story was supposed to go.  I met the man of my dreams, we got married, then I had two beautiful boys.  We had started trying for our third because we wanted Harry to be a big brother.  My story was not supposed to include losing my baby to SUDC.  My story was not supposed to include me having to explain to people what SUDC is and having to tell people that Harry was not sick and we did nothing wrong.  But now my life’s story is centered around keeping Harry’s memory alive.

How am I supposed to live the rest of my life with this heartache?

Welcome

Good evening everyone!

My name is Amber and I am a mother to three beautiful boys.  I have “A” who just turned four years old and “W” who is two weeks old.  But this blog is not about them.  This blog is about my third son, his name is Harry.  We just celebrated his second birthday a few weeks ago but he wasn’t here to celebrate with us.  On October 28th, we will be celebrating his first angelversary.  My Harry passed away on October 28, 2013 as a result of SUDC (Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood).  SUDC is listed when a child is over the age of one year old; SIDS is listed when a child is less than the age of one year old.

As this time, I will not write about the morning he passed.  That will come in time, maybe.

I am creating this blog as a way to release my pain, learn to live this life, and to let other mother’s of angels know they are not alone out there.