Dear Someone

Dreambag

I took my dreams out of the bag.
I placed them down, I laid them flat.
I looked at how they stained my hands with truth.

I could not quite figure out
the explosive fear and raging doubt
that pulsed throughout my heart as I stared.

They seemed to me vague memory;
a misty, veiled, darkened sea.
A domain into which I was not allowed.

But the bag had one more dream abound.
I pulled the cord and heard the sound.
And now that laughter fills my heart with joy.

Missing you, son.
Love,
Dad

gloomy

Again, feeling very anxious today. This rainy weather is compounding it. It was raining one year ago as well. I love the rain, but seriously could use some sun this week.

feeling anxious

Today I am remembering one year ago, the Sunday before Abram was born. It was his due date, Sept 23. I was having so much anxiety. I was wanting to go into labor so badly. I drank castor oil and had anxiety about that. (Although my anxiety over worrying about the side effects far outweighed the actual experience...it really wasn't that bad.)

We were both anxious. We really wanted him to come that day. We took walks, we went on a drive just to get out for a bit. We paced the floor, at least it felt like that. Looking back at that day and the anxiety we felt...it compares not at all, to the anxiety we have felt everyday since our boy left.

It's crazy how much can happen in a year...

Final Report

It has taken us 12 weeks to get the nerve to get Abram's reports from the Medical Examiner. I begged and screamed for them not to do an autopsy on our boy that day. It wasn't even debated. We had no choice. I knew then what an autopsy entailed and was horrified at the thought of them performing one on Abram. We knew then it wouldn't show anything and of course, wouldn't change anything. Despite already knowing that, we had to get the reports. It is our information to know. I still have resentment about that fact that we had to seek the information out. I don't think a phone call was too much to ask from the Salt Lake County Sheriff's Department or from the man that looked me in the eye and promised me that he would take care of our son. Famous last words...

I have read a lot of surgical reports in my life, but nothing like this one. It was pretty surreal reading such details about your son. We read and analyzed every word of those reports. We just couldn't not read them. So many things about them bothered us....

"This 7 month, 8 day old caucasian male died of probable Sudden Infant Death Syndrome." Probable? As in you're not sure?...syndrome? He had no symptoms, he showed no signs.... "The body is cold." The body? His body. "The leather cord bracelet is secured to the left ankle." It was his wrist. "The infant appeared well cared for." Appeared? How about he was well cared for. As if there was a question. Josh thought that should have said "The infant was loved and treasured".... "Time of Death 12:23 pm." The only-ifs didn't take long to surface after reading that.

We realize that this is a job for this man. We know he had no choice either. I think we both just hope that he took a second to realize just how precious that little body was, before he traumatized it in a way I never imagined. And believe me...I have imagined.

Feeling Green

Man it feels hard today. The jealousy I feel towards all those surrounding us that still have their babies is pretty intense. It's so hard when you tell yourself not to feel something, but you just can't help it and it hits you like a ton of bricks. It literally feels like someone has kicked me in the gut. It just feels like more than I can bear right now... I can't do this.

Memories of Abram

For some reason, it's much easier for me to get my thoughts out here than in my journal. Therefore, I am afraid this blog has become my way of journaling.

It's such a strange thing to have such wonderful memories bring you so much pain. I know I have expressed this before, but it doesn't seem to be getting any easier. I have been allowing myself to remember things more clearly, which compels me to write them down. So many perfect moments...

The very first look he gave me as they held him over the drape. The way he would run his arm up around his head and down his face while he was nursing. The comments we got from the nurses about how adorable he was with his sandy blonde hair. His faker cry. The way he put the soles of his little feet together. How much he loved laying on the changing table and stare at his octupus. The way he would sleep on my chest, in his carrier, for hours at a time while I worked. How much he loved to watch and listen to Dad play guitar. The way he would "mmm" when we fed him. The way he would rock himself back and forth in his circus. The way he didn't cry when Libby or Lyle tried to lick his face right off. His curled up fists in the bath. His chubby legs standing on my tummy. His belly laugh when his Dad would rub his whiskers on his back. The way he looked in red. How he loved to sleep in bed with Mom and Dad. How is eyes wouldn't always shut completely when he was sleeping. How he loved his binki. How he loved to be sang to. How he would "drill" Dad, by trying to nurse on him. The way he would stop crying if you took him outside....

I just hope these moments stay as fresh in my mind as they are right now. I miss you Abram- so much more than I ever thought possible.