Letters to James (3)

September 4, 2010

It’s 12:26AM, my birthday has come and gone dear James, but all I could think about all day was that you would have been 3 months old today. I had planned on us celebrating together. I thought I had some tough birthdays in the past, but nothing compares to how I felt today knowing I had turned another year older, and you will never even have your first birthday.

I stayed up late last night writing to you and slept for most of the day. We are still at Gigi and Buggy’s house and when I got out of my old bed, I took my meds and went into yours and Lucy’s room (at Gigi and Bug’s). I laid down in the bed your daddy has been sleeping in and took comfort in being able to smell his scent on his pillow. I stared over at the crib that was once mine, then Lucy used it…. and your slept only a few times in it. I teared up wishing you were in that crib napping, and we were just over here for a weekend visit.

I closed my eyes hoping I could just go back to sleep because when the pain is often too much to bear, I just want to escape. I don’t get out of the bed after this until I can hear Daddy and Lu coming in the house. Lucy gives me a birthday card—she is so sweet—I wish so much y’all could have grown up together.

Gigi helps me get into the shower (because of my compression fracture and brace I need help–I will tell you about later) and then I get dressed and put in my contacts for the first time since you left me. I put on make-up for the first time since your funeral.

We all go to Yoko’s Japanese – where they cook the food in front of you. As we sit down, I quickly realize that the family that comes in and sits behind us has a baby. Every time that baby made a noise or cried my heart felt like it was being stabbed. I felt the overwhelming urge to burst into tears, but tried to focus on your sister and how much she warms my heart. I miss you so much, but I believe you have brought so much joy to your grandmother June and great-grandmother Nana. I can only imagine their joy as they hold you and kiss you. I can only imagine what it’s like to literally be held by Jesus and I can smile knowing that he has held you.

September 6, 2010

Today is Labor Day, James. Mommy and Daddy took your sister to the splash park. Of course there was a cute, chubby little boy there drinking water out of the same kind of bottles you used. It’s hard for mommy not to be jealous that I didn’t have you out there today too. I watched him a lot and thought of you. At one point the wind blew and Lucy told me that was James blowing kisses. I told her she was exactly right.

I have seen the prettiest orange butterfly here at Gigi and Bug’s house a few times and couldn’t help but wonder if that was you telling me “Hi” and that you were okay. I have been reading a lot today on this SIDS website where other parents who have lost their babies write to them and it has given me some comfort to know I am not alone, and also to know all those precious babies are there with you. I still often wonder if you will be just as you were when you left us or if you will be grown up in Heaven and be much older when I see you again. I really hope you will still be a baby so I can hold you in my arms, but I know however all that works is God’s will. I have a whole new outlook now on death—especially death of close friends and family because now any time someone dies, I know that will be one more person to come hold you and play with you until I get there.

September 7, 2010

I am still awake from when I wrote you last, but it is 12:13 AM and therefore technically September 7^th—one month to the day that you left this world.

I don’t know yet exactly what they presume the actual time of death to be, but we know it was after midnight. I hope you didn’t suffer—I hope you were not scared. I believe you instantly entered Heaven and Jesus placed you in His arms and you knew true happiness that those of us left behind can only hope—have faith—in. Your daddy finally opened up some tonight to me again. It helps mommy so much when he talks about how he feels. He hurts so bad, James. I do believe it was all planned out by God and nothing would have changed that day. I think we are blessed that so much family was there when it happened—just as God planned—to help us, support us…I am thankful it didn’t happen at our home or Gigi and Buggy’s. I am blessed that so many were able to instantly be at our side during our darkest hours.

I want to hold you so bad. I used to get frustrated about how much you grunted—what I wouldn’t give to hear you grunt now, all night long. I would quit my job and watch your every breath. Your hair was fine and soft and would stick straight up after your bath. I would breathe in your scentl (much different that your sister’s scent) and my heart would melt. I hate myself for ever being impatient, or tired or frustrated at you for not “sleeping well.” You were doing amazing, and I should have cherished every diaper change—every cry to be fed—every grunt sound you made because it let me know you were alive and well.  I still can’t believe this has happened.

Like I have read on SIDS websites, you never expect it to happen to your own baby. You literally had no health problems—you were born at 8 pounds!! AND got a 10 on your Apgar test!! You were an amazing baby—so strong and laid back. I had already planned on watching you play baseball and football. Practicing with daddy and Bug. Buggy never had a son and I felt like you leaving us… robbed him of that chance as well.

James, it’s been one month since you died, and I can still remember how you felt in my arms. How you would look into my eyes when I fed you—and of course, how it felt to be able to breastfeed you for that first month. I felt such a bond to you—even though I began to enter some terrible depression. I never loved you any less—I just wanted to get better so I could express my love properly.

I have to go ahead and ask you how you would feel if mommy and daddy try for another baby. I know it’s so soon to think, but I want life to go on and I never wanted to have an “only-child”. Don’t get me wrong, Lucy will always have you as her brother, but I want, if it’s God’s will—to raise at least two children because I always wished I had had a brother or sister.

Of course, as you now know better than me, this is God’s choice and plan, and you probably already know if mommy and daddy will have any more children. I hope you are okay with it if we do. You will never be forgotten—our 2^nd baby, our first baby boy. Everyone used to say, “oh, how perfect—one of each.” But now I only have you in my prayers and dreams until I reach Heaven.

I never heard you say mama—or any first word, you flipped over once, but never really rolled. You never crawled or walked and will never use the walker Great Aunt Lindy bought you. You have a closet full of clothes you will never wear, and it breaks my heart when I see the Christmas jammies Gigi has in the closet for you and the pretty outfit in your closet with the Christmas tree on it.

Knowing you will never wear those things…you left before my birthday—Lu’s birthday—Thanskgiving and Christmas. I feel so robbed of those memories but continue to thank God for the time we had. Many mothers and fathers have babies die in utero or born still or only live a few hours—and we had 9 weeks of your beautiful life. As hard as it is—we are so blessed to have had you as long as we did. I love you buddy-buddy—my little chunk!