Christmas 2009!

So we managed to survive Christmas and all the fun that goes with it. We had a wonderful time with family, received some wonderful gifts, and enjoyed the holidays though we missed sharing them with Matt's mom when she was in NY. The boys has a great Christmas and received many surprises this year. There were many questions about Santa this year and this may be the last year... I'm not sure. I think Jacob knows, but just does not want to give it up yet. Besides how sad will that be. This year I pulled out all the stops.... footprints in the snow, reindeer food, and an email from Santa. We'll just have to see what happens next year....

Anyway, enjoy some Christmas photos....

Here's to a happy and healthy new year!

The day that changed my life forever

It will be 6 years ago on Friday that Killian died and the day that our lives changed forever. We still miss him, look at his pictures and smile, and talk about him. He is a living part of our family, even though he is not with us. Jacob found my journal in my bedroom the other day. Interesting he found it around this time, I did not journal for very long, just right after his death until his 1st birthday. Anyway, I'll share the story of this very sad day.

It was a normal day for us. I dropped and picked up Jacob from preschool and Matt was off work and caring for the boys that day. After lunch I headed out to work. At 7:00pm I was leaving my last appointment and the woman knitted a blanket for the baby. As I was leaving the house she asked "How is the baby?" "Perfect and wonderful" I answered "he doubled his weight and sleeps through the night, he's a great baby" As I was driving home, I called the house (like I always do) to let Matt know I was on my way home. The line was busy and I thought that was weird and continued to drive home. I kept dialing and it was still busy, now I was worried. A few minutes passed and the phone rang. It was Matt "we have a problem" he said. My thought was immediately to Killian, but I never thought he was dead. "Killian stopped breathing" I start screaming... "I did CPR, the ambulance just took him to Jameson Hospital" "I'll meet you there" and hung up the phone. I do not remember driving to the hospital at all. I turned into the hospital, passed the ER parking lot and parked in the wrong lot. I ran through the parking lot, but wound up by the gift shop in the hospital, I ran around like a nut and finally found the ER. I spotted a security guard and ran up to him, scared with tears streaming down my face. "My baby is here- where is he- i need to see him" "Calm down, you need to stand in line and register" A nurse came out immediately and took me back, she lead me into a small room with a sign outside that said Grief and Bereavement Room. This was the first time that I realized that he was not in good shape. Until then I had closed my mind to the thought that he would not make it, his was a chubby, healthy baby, give me a break. Matt comes running into the room, I remember that Logan had on only one shoe. The nurses were preparing us that he might have brain damage and will need to go to Pittsburgh for care if he pulls through. They asked us to call a family member so we called Matt's parents. Nurses kept coming in and saying "they are working as hard as they can for him right now" After about an hour, the doctor came in and said that he was gone. "We worked for an hour and have gotten no response" I thought to myself, and hour, it seems like 10 minutes "we will clean him up and you can go see him". We walked down the hall, the boys were with Matt's parents who had arrived, and went to hold our son for the last time. God was that hard. I scooped him up sat in a chair and held him, it looked like he was just sleeping, very peaceful. Matt held him next and sobbed. We were given as much time as we wanted with him. And then we left... it was really hard to fight every instinct you have as a parent to protect your child and we were leaving him alone in a cold, sterile hospital room.

I woke up at 5 am- no Killian- no baby to feed- i was overcome with sadness and laid in bed and sobbed. Matt was sleeping ( i later found out that he was up until 4am grieving). I decided to get up. Jacob woke up and cam downstairs "are you crying for Killian". "Yes, i miss him." "Can we go the the hospital and get him" "No, he died and is not coming home" "OK". Poor Jacob- so confused. Shortly after that the phone started ringing and did not stop for days.

Saturday was the day to make the arrangements. My parents came in from Jersey and were helping with the boys. We went out to make all of the arrangements. First we had to buy him an outfit and pick up the Christmas picture I had taken of him 2 weeks earlier. Of course I start crying at he Walmart counter... we get a frame and get out of there quick. Then we decide to go to sears to find a new outfit to bury him in, Matt requested something new because it would be too difficult to bury him in something he wore when he was alive. So it's a Saturday and it's 3 weeks before Christmas and I felt like punching every smiling shopper that passed me in the face... needless to say that was a quick shopping trip too. We get to the funeral home and meet a soft spoken man in a three piece suit. He showed us the casket, a small white casket with a velor lining and a little white pillow. We gave him the outfit, the picture, and finalized the plans. Off to the cemetery next. We met a man in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, quite a change from the 3 piece suit weirdo of a funeral director. He showed us some available plots. Matt and his mom were diplomatically looking at where we were going to place him. I, at this point, am screaming in my head, "who gives a shit, pick a fucking plot of grass", but i kept my mouth shut. We picked some flowers, grabbed a beer and something to eat and went home. The mood with my parents was awkward- I went to bed early.

On Sunday, we had calling hours and the funeral director slowly pissed me off... i don't think he meant to, I just had no patience for his weirdness.

On Monday, we buried him. In snow. The last time I saw his face, the last time I touched him. Casket was sealed, blessings and all that stuff and then it was time to bury him. As we are standing in the snow I'm thinking "what a small hole, how fucked up is this, is this really happening". After the blessing of the grave, we left him, this time for good, fighting those instincts again, who leaves their baby in the snow. I do, my son is dead.

It has eased through the years, but I still miss him all the time.