I can’t say it enough. I just want him back. With every fiber of my body and soul, I just want him back here. Now. Looking at his pictures and videos is so painful. I just stare and think about how much happiness I had with him, how I made a conscious effort to just be with him, stare at his face and tried to capture it forever in my memory. Now it’s all just empty and gone, despite having done my best to burn it into my brain. The deja vu feeling that told me to savor it now just feels like a punch in the gut. Like. I should have known it would end. It was all too perfect.
This photo is just days before he died. See those little side teeth – those are what I thought was causing him to act ‘off’, and the urgent care doctor thought so too after checking him over 2 days before he passed. Babies don’t die from teething. They don’t die from little stuffy noses either, not like this. They might get sicker and be at risk for other complications, but they don’t just suddenly stop breathing in your arms without cause.
I still just can not comprehend how he could just die. Without warning. He was teething, he had some sniffles, and then just died. He was crying and awake, trying to settle down for a nap, and then 10 mins later in the back of an ambulance with no heartbeat. HOW? How does this happen!?
I called the CPS social worker yesterday to try to find out anything I could. She didn’t have any answers yet, but did tell us they had done everything on their end as far as their investigation and she didn’t see any issues or concerns that charges would be filed against us. She was going to push back to her contact at the medical examiners office to try to find out even a timeline for when we might know something more. Antonio called the medical examiner yesterday and got a call back today that it could be up to 3 months before they finish their report, but they did take his contact info in case it finished sooner.
I keep wanting to come here and tell you how everything is slowly getting better and we see the light at the end of this darkness, but it’s not. Maybe it’s getting worse. I do not know. Things can seem and feel 100% normal, and then one thought or one moment can trigger something deep inside that just shoots pain through me and I feel a sudden flight or flight rush of panic and anxiety. An ambulance came down our street the other day with full sirens and lights on. It felt so surreal for a moment. I can’t even fully explain exactly what went through my mind, but once it got to the end of the street and turned away, I just cried and cried.
It was such an odd thing to begin with. We live on a tiny side street (it’s not even paved) with only 4 houses on the street. We rarely hear sirens of any kind and if we do they are in the distance going away from our neighborhood, and towards the larger roads around us. Hearing the siren approach my house in the same way it did that Monday morning, turn down our street, and then pass me by was like reliving a small part of it all. It burns in my chest and makes me feel nauseated. The sudden dump of adrenaline to my system makes me feel like I’m floating and dizzy, and everything in my mind just freezes and takes me back to sitting there, watching them perform CPR on my son, just begging for his heart to beat, while the slow realization crept in that it was taking too long. He had been down too long. He wasn’t coming back. Not even a little bit.
I miss him. I go looking through my pictures and videos because I was to see him, but it doesn’t bring me any peace. It just makes me more sad, angry, and confused. All of those three things just wrapped up into a big festering ball inside my chest. I haven’t decided which one of those things hurts the worst right now. Maybe it’s the confusion. The constant why did this happen? What caused this? And how to we keep it from happening again? I just wish we knew, but then again, even if we do find out, it won’t change anything. Maybe it will hurt more to find out we should have done something different?
I know that we didn’t do anything wrong, but I will forever wonder if we could have done something ‘more right’. Every time I go over all of the little quirks and things about him with someone I constantly wonder now if everything was a sign. He didn’t like to be on his chest. It’s one reason why I wore him in the Tula more than wrapping him on my back. He didn’t like the process of me leaning forward and him laying chest down on my back while I wrapped. He also didn’t like to be held overhead with my hands on his chest like an airplane. Maybe there was something underlying that made it uncomfortable? Or maybe not, and it just wasn’t something that he didn’t care for? If it was a sign how else would I have known before he suddenly just stopped breathing in my arms? It’s all so confusing and not fair.
I don’t know how anything will ever feel normal again. I don’t know I can ever get back the feeling of contentment that I was so proud of. I had it ALL. Everything I ever wanted. I couldn’t have cared less that we don’t have as much ‘stuff’ as anyone else. I had the life I had been yearning for so long, and then the bottom feel out, and the absolute worst things that could ever happen shattered it into a million pieces that can never be put back together the same way.