Two more parents loose a child...a baby boy

Everytime I hear about such news, I feel that stabbing wrenching pain deep within my heart and soul. I know, the sleepless nights, the days when getting out of bed is impossible, the wanting so desperately to awake from the nightmare--the realization that this bed, chair, desk, crib, and life will be empty. Nothing will ever fill that void, not ever! My advice is mostly to those who are wanting to give comfort; just listen--it's that easy! Don't hand out the old cliches as if they are the only thing you feel is right to say. Look, this baby is their baby, not yours, you can only imagine what it might feel like, but that is it! Telling the parents that this was all for the best is no comfort what so ever! Telling them the child is happier and safer now, is well....heart shattering and unfeeling! To a parent, the ONLY good place, safe place, happy place is in thier arms. Oh, I'm not negating the power and the love of God (whichever you beleive in) I'm just letting you know, to have a child ripped from our lives and hearts is so utterly unthinkable, so painful, so heart and soul crushing. Do you want to say the right thing? Just say I'm sorry-- Listen to the mom or dad talk on about their baby...it validates the existance and the knowledge that our baby was here it also makes them cry...so if crying bothers you--GET OVER IT! We do cry...we cry for hours on end, we sob in the bathtub, while driving, while looking over at the empty bed..we will cry. DO NOT insist they give all the child's belongings away Do not ask them if they are over it yet? Do not EVER expect that your friend or family member will ever be the same as before-- this horrible moment changes us forever! It has been fifiteen years for me, YES, I still sob uncontrolably, just not as often anymore. I celebrate my son's birthday and his heaven date too. I remember him at holidays by literaly shopping for him and then, I find a worthy cause to donate it to. I buy a cake, balloons, make his favorite food; my family comes over and we sit and talk about his life--it did happen you know, he was with us once. One more little item I wish to share, if by some chance, you find the child's clothes, and you can smell him or her on them...pleade don't be sweet and wash them. Put them in a sealed container and put it under mommy's pillow. ( let her know of course.) Scents are very strong, and we need them too.

One more anniversary...fifteen years has passed, and yet, it still feels like yesterday. I'm angry! I'm down right pissed off! I can't stop weeping and feeling so empty! It's normal, it really is; grief never leaves us, it becomes a part of our lives. The same questions pop up: "Why did this happen?" "How could he have been so stupid to get in that car with his drunk buddies?" "Why did everyone else make it out alive?" "Why did his death cause an entire family to lose ground and fall apart and away from one another?" I can still hear the phone ringing--ringing. I can feel the urgency of my eldest son pounding on the door! I get that emotional adrenaline, and want to run--just run away from the nightmare! It did not happen! It's still just a bad dream! Oh god, why can't I wake up and just know it was all not true?

I feel his pulse, his heartbeat; slower and slower--I felt his life slip away, and go... I was prepared though, while driving to Colorado, I felt a grasp at my heart, as if an infant was clutching my breast...the clutch was strong, oh so strong-- and then, just as quick as it grabbed me, it slipped away. I really knew at that moment, that what I was going to do there was say good-bye. I was strong, I recall that feeling of utter calmness, of strength and love for my remaining babies. I stood there watching as each one of them dealt with the grieving process; different ways and yet all the same time. It was eerie. One punching the hospital walls, some sobbing, one in denial, and one...just so quiet. One was far away, and oh how I wish she was there with us too. We made the decision to take him off life support-- it was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life...ever. This scene from Steel Magnolias sums it all up.

I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something. I just sat there. I just held Shelby's hand. There was no noise, no tremble, just peace. Oh god. I realize as a woman how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.

I miss you terribly Robert David Baker, we all do! mom

So you've just found out that the person you love is terminal

It saddens me to hear that a loved one is dying...nothing we can do but enjoy the moments we have left with them. My advice: Make every moment count, ask questions you have yearned for the answers, make as many memories as you can! Find out about their history, childhood memories, and perhaps, see if there is something they've always wanted to do, but never had the time. I think, (now this is just my opinion) That death is not the end. It feels that way for the ones left behind, because we are empty inside-- a puzzle peice is missing and nothing or no one can replace them either. Think about your life, what a blessing this person made in your life--tell them! Let them know-- it's good for them and even better for you. Listen as well, because when they are leaving this side, they have such insight and much to give in return!