I have tried to write this post several times now, my heart yearning to express its’ pain, but being unable to find the words.
It’s been months since I’ve written. As time has passed my hand itched to put pen to paper, but the truth is – I don’t want to write about this. I’ve always written exactly how I feel, and right now I imagine whatever I try to write will come out confused, sad, or angry.
It’s been two months since Addison passed. Over 60 days without her. A thousand nights I haven’t held her, and yet I still want to write about her in the present tense. For me, she’s here. She’s always here with me, in my heart and in my mind. There is no pain quite like the loss of a child. It’s unimaginable. It’s agonizing. It’s being unable to breathe, or cry, or scream – it’s a pain that engulfs your entire being:
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome… that’s what they call it. The unexplainable reality of our lives. It is silent, with no symptoms or signs, SIDS snuck into our house like a thief and stole her from me. A regular Wednesday afternoon turned into a nightmare in just moments. The worst scenario I could have ever imagined playing out in our living room. The sirens, the officers, paramedics and doctors. So many people tried to save her, tried to help her. It was no ones fault, just the unfair truth of a SIDS death. There is nothing that can be done.
Every day I miss her. Everyday I love her more. It feels like I woke up into someone else’s life, going through the motions of moving forward, of trying to return to a semi-normal life, but really, life will never be normal for us. Addison brought so much life, and so many lessons. Her absence is always there, a hole in my soul that will never quite be right. She will forever be my sunshine.
I just pray we have to walk this journey so that no one else we know ever has to.
Love your children like you only have today with them, because tomorrow isn’t a guarantee.