2009

As this year is ending and everyone is preparing to celebrate, I find myself hesitating. I usually look forward to the new year but I am not so sure about this time. 2009 was both the best and worst year of my life. It was the best because I had two sweet children. Because I had such hope that we could beat the odds and save Gage's life. It was Gage's only Valentine's Day, his only Easter. It was the only birthday I had while he was alive. The only wedding anniversary that Charlie and I got to celebrate at the zoo with two beautiful children. It was the best because of all of the magic moments between a mommy and a baby boy. It was the worst because that perfect baby died in my arms. Because his daddy and I had to make a decision that nobody should ever have to make. Because we had to leave the hospital with nothing but a diaperbag. Because we had to drive the 2 hours back home with Emily staring over at am empty car seat. Because instead of moving the 4 of us home for good, we came back with 3 and an urn. Because of the pain that we have constantly endured for the last 25 weeks. So it seems that I would want to move on to a new year, to new hopes. The problem is...Gage isn't in 2010. Yes, his memories will always be in my heart. But his heart-melting smile is in 2009. His snuggles are in 2009. The way he kicked his one foot out of the covers while he slept is in 2009. The way Gage and Emily played together is in 2009. I don't want to have to say my baby died last year. It just seems so far away. Time can be cruel. It just keeps going while Charlie and I sometimes feel like we are standing still. I don't want it to be 9 months since I lost him. It is creeping up on me. I don't want to be without him longer than I had him. I just want him. So, even though we do have specific hopes and plans for 2010, I would gladly do 2009 again, just to get one more smile, one more cuddle, one more smell of his hair,one more everything.

Gage, I love you and miss you so much. Please keep sending the bunnies. Mommy

Merry Christmas sweet baby Gage....I miss you. Love, Mommy

My world (by Gage's Mommy)

I am not the same person I used to be. I live in a different world than I did a year ago. I live in a world where children die, no matter how much you don't want them to.

I live in a world where there are still fatal diseases, like Wolman's Disease, that continue to take lives without remorse. I just met another family whose lives were shattered by this terrible disease. Sweet Dakota passed away friday evening. Wolman's is so poorly understood. By the time that most babies are diagnosed, they are too sick to go through with the transplant. There are two survivors of this disease. Two. That is hard to even comprehend.

I am not ok. I act like I am some of the time, but I am not. I am angry. I am jealous. I am devastated. I live in a world where dreams really do NOT come true. Where miracles do NOT happen. Where prayers are NOT answered. Where the words "Merry Christmas" send a wave of nausea through my body. Where people who abuse, neglect or mistreat their children are allowed to keep their precious bundles of joy, but MY baby who is loved and wanted and cherished, is taken from me. A world where I can think of six (off the top of my head) very precious children fighting a battle for their lives and more than that who I got to know on 6a or the RM house that have died.

To say I am dreading Christmas is an understatement. I am faking it for Emily. I could not bear to put up our Christmas tree but since Emily insisted on a TREE, I put up a palm tree with a string of lights on it. This time last year, I still knew the meaning of the word hope. It has been replaced with disappointment.

I miss Gage. I hurt for Gage. I hurt for the families who are missing their children. I hurt for the families caring for their sick little ones. I just hurt. And I am mad when people around me act like nothing happened. Like I am not dying on the inside.

My arms ache to hold Gage, to rock him, to pick him up, to carry him. My eyes ache to see him. To see him light up when he smiled. My ears ache to hear his sweet voice cooing, his grunts, his cry. My nose aches to smell him, that sweet baby small. My lips ache to kiss him, to run them over his hair like I loved to do. My hands ache to change his diaper, to get him dressed, to make his bottle. My feet ache to walk with him, to walk to his crib to get him. To take him to clinic, or to the park. My voice aches to sing to him, to tell him I love him. My heart aches to feel his happiness, his warmth, his love.

I miss you Gage. I love you. Mommy