I have not visited this site for so long, mostly because I have felt so uninspired. Somehow, the days have all meshed together and the workouts were taken for granted. I have been consistent with the schedule, running, tracking, swimming, even cycling here and there. I cannot believe Soma Half Ironman is only weeks away now, as it feels like a bad dream. It sounded like a good idea when we signed up for it months ago. Now, it does not even seem real. The events of this past week have made training feel so superficial, that I care nothing about the pending race.
The call came Monday night. Our friend Doug's voice was shakey and far away. "Liam was put to sleep on his stomach his first day at daycare today, " he said. "He stopped breathing and they are calling it SIDS." He told all of this to my husband at first, who then recounted it to me. I had to hear it for myself. Coming from Marc, it was something out of a dream, a bad joke. I could not even wrap my mind around the words that came out of his mouth.
My mind was racing and I could not even comprehend what he was telling me. SIDS? Do kids really die from SIDS? I thought that was only a statistic and that the medical professionals only advised against putting children on their bellies to sleep as a spazy, precautionary measure. Baby Liam was healthy, despite the rough start he had coming into this world, he was given a clean bill of health. He was a chubby, happy, adorable baby...how can he have suffered from SIDS? I called Doug back. Surely there was some misunderstanding...there had to be.
"Wait, what?" It was all I could say at first, when Doug repeated what he had already shared with Marc. It sounded so lame leaving my mouth.
They were at Childrens Hospital and baby Liam, just shy of 5 months old and not quite rolling over on his own, was on life support. He had no brain activity. He had been without oxygen for too long and the mere fact that the paramedics who had arrived at the scene earlier that day were able to revive his heart was astounding. That, in and of itself, was a miracle, so maybe...
"We need a miracle, " Doug choked through tears. " We need a modern day miracle. It's not good. The doctors are telling us it is not good..." and he broke down.
Baby Liam was taken off of life support 24 hours later, Tuesday night, as his little organs were failing him. How can any of this be real? How can he really be dead? We prayed for him, pleaded for his life. We wanted desperately for him to live. We all clung to the hope that he would make it somehow. It was almost ridiculous, I thought, that we held on to that hope, but what else could we do? What else did we have? If we don't have hope, what do we have?
The service was yesterday. We all needed to hear something to make it all make sense. Nothing about it makes sense. No one can understand this loss. No one understands when a child dies. This was not abuse or neglect. It was a stupid accident that did not belong there on that day. This event should not have happened. No one can bare to think of Doug and Kelly walking by his empty crib, or how they can justify it to their other two children. As a parent, no one wants to suffer the guilt and questions that plague our minds after the fact. "What if Kelly hadn't returned to work that day? What if Liam had still been in the care of his grandparents? What if he had not been fussy and not been put to sleep on his stomach? What if he had not been in that daycare situation? What if they had checked on his 10 minutes earlier?" As parents, we bear the burden of living with every decision that affects our children's lives. We want so much to do right by them, and not unknowingly put them in harms way. If only we could take back the moment.
Now it feels as though we are frozen in time; we can't move forward because the past is so repulsive. We want to relive it the proper way, have the day that should have been. Kelly would drop off her precious bundle, work the day, and then return to her content and happy baby to take him home to the rest of the family. Liam was supposed to be safe and sound in that setting. How can he possibly be d-e-a-d?? We cannot move forward without it feeling as though it is disrespectful to Liam. How can we all possibly go on living where we left off? How can we simply return to our job responsibilities, and school work, and social promises? Do we pretend that his short chapter of a life was just that? Something that was part of the story, but now through it, seemingly forgotten for all the rest of the book that is to come? What can possibly come next and feel okay? He wasn't even my baby to hold, and yet, I am devastated by the loss and in need of more answers.
We implored God for a miracle. Why was God's answer, "No" when we all so desperately needed it to be "Yes"? "Yes, baby Liam is going to be okay. Yes, he will live to see the fall and experience his first Halloween costume. He will cut teeth and he will crawl. He will see his first Thanksgiving maybe even eat some turkey and mashed potatoes. He will drool and giggle and pull himself up. And he will have Christmas and gifts and joy. He will see the lights and experience the love the season has to offer. Yes, he will learn how to walk and talk and be a little boy. " My heart aches to think how little he knew of this world. He was born in Spring, thrived in the summer and then died just before the fall. Why do things in autumn die so quickly? He will never know all four seasons. He will never know so many things. How can this be real? If I am this empty with no words to even describe the loss I feel, his family's grief is unfathomable. I want to scream and be angry and distraught, but I try to be calm and look for peace and gratitude anywhere I can find it. There is no understanding or accepting yet. Perhaps the only thing that brings me comfort is what my 5 year old stated so matter of factly.
"Mom, maybe God just thought it was time for baby Liam to go to Heaven."
Maybe, and I guess we will not know any of the answers that evade us until we get there, too. Heaven is going to be an amazing place. Our hope is in that. Little baby Liam's life and death puts things into perspective fast. Live every day. Love every minute. Cherish those you love.
"You give and take away,
You give and take away,
My heart will choose to say,
Blessed be the name of the Lord."
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