in my arms

It took my son a few (30) extra minutes to fall asleep tonight.  I tried to leave the room once.  He melted into tears.  I ran downstairs and grabbed a cookie (makes perfect sense, no?) and my laptop.  I was prepared to let him have a good cry.  All things must come to an end, and I am about done with spending my evenings helping him go to sleep.

But something that has been haunting me all day, started haunting me again.  A blogger in the blogosphere, someone I don’t know, have never met, never read, never even heard of before today has been in my thoughts all day.

Her child died last night. Her 17 month-old girl.

The thoughts and feelings that I have had today for a total stranger who will never know me, never know these thoughts existed, have had quite an impact on me.

Not too many weeks ago, I was dry-heaving into the toilet at the idea that my son may have a heart condition.  He would live.  He would need to be careful.  Our lives would change.

Losing a child?  I can’t begin to comprehend.

I have a friend whose infant died.  A newborn.  A very premature newborn.  Knowing her through that time has changed who I am.  It has changed a lot about me.  And that was someone else’s child.  What do you possibly do when it is your own child?  How. Do. You. Go. On?

I went back into his room.  I rubbed his head.  I waited with him until he fell asleep.  I did for my son what that mother wants more than anything to do for her daughter tonight.  I held him tight in my arms.

Advertisements

2 responses to “in my arms

  1. Wow. I can’t begin to comprehend either. I took mine to the doctor for a splotchy rashy face, oozy scabs on his head, and some mild eczema on his body. I’ll take all those and much more any day in exchange for being able to hold onto my baby for as long as I live.

  2. You can’t even put your head in that place. I literally have not be able to stop kissing Nicholas since the day I brought him home. I don’t worry about the asthma and allergies- I just deal with them. It could be so much worse.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s