Thanks Kelley

Thank you all for your support and sweet messages through your comments. I'm realizing that the support of others, especially those who know what we are going through, is what will help us just survive. Because really, that's all we're doing at this point - surviving. Every step I take is a conscious effort to keep moving. Every smile, laugh - all half-hearted - I wonder when true happiness will come as a result of those.

One of the hardest parts of all of this has been the "looks" that people give me. I feel like people look at me as if I'm going to explode at any moment. I can see that they don't know what to say, so they just don't say anything at all. I understand that - I wouldn't know what to say to me either, but....say something. People also seem to believe that I don't want to talk about Ayden. Why would I not want to talk about the light of my life? My source of true joy.... It helps to talk about him....to go back to my pregnancy and his birth....to recall his charm and beautiful personality. It helps to talk about him. I don't want people to act as if he never existed....how cruel...not to acknowledge such a wonderful little life....the little life that fills me with such pure joy. Ayden may not be a part of our present....but he is in our past and our future. And while I will ache for him until that future comes....that idea is what keeps me moving.

Kelley is a fellow SIDS mom, and she has been so gracious with me. We hardly know each other, but we have a bond that can never be broken. Our boys are playing together.... I could write so much about how much of a comfort she has been; she has been a blessing. She sent me the following poem. It was something I needed today, and it describes "where I am" these days:

My Mom Is A Survivor

My Mom is a survivor,
or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying at night
when all others are in bed.

I watch her lay awake at night
and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her
to help her understand.

But like the sands on the beach
that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom,
who thinks of me each day.

She wears a smile for others...
a smile of disguise!
But through Heaven's door
I seetears flowing from her eyes.

My mom tries to cope with death
to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows
it is her way to survive.

As I watch over my surviving mom
through Heaven's open door...
I try to tell her that angels
protect me forevermore.

I know that doesn't help her...
or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her...
and show her that you care.

For no matter what she says...
no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart
that time won't ever heal.