Unexplained

Yesterday we received Link's final autopsy report in the mail. 






Everything about that last sentence is so wrong. 



This is what it said:
Manner of death: Could not be determined.
Immediate cause of death: Sudden unexplained infant death. 

It said a lot more than that. Pages & pages of medical information - no viruses, nothing wrong with his organs... nothing. Jason made me promise not to read it without him by my side, but I couldn't help it. I had to know. 

It's not like I expected it to say anything really different, but... well... maybe I did? Maybe I wanted them to find something... something... anything to tell me WHY. 

I was never going to be one of those moms! My baby was never going to die of SIDS! I tried to do everything right! I breastfed him, I always put him to sleep on his back, he didn't want the binki at first, but I kept giving it to him until he really took it, I swaddled him in breathable blankets. The room was kept at a normal/cool temperature. 

Unexplained. Unexplained. 

So, basically they are telling me that my baby died and they don't know why. And he went through SO much in his first two months of life - 2 MONTHS of hospitals - just to lose him in his sleep? Just to have it be unexplained? 

I think I am certifiably in my "anger phase" of grieving. There are times I am positively volatile.  HOW IS THIS FAIR? keeps running through my mind. I have a journal where I write to Link and this was a recent entry:

"It’s NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that you don’t even get to experience your first year of life – of mortality – with all the seasons and traditions that go with it.There’s so much you didn’t get to see of this big, wide world.  You missed out on most of Spring!! The flowers blooming, the birds chirping, the baby animals. Oh, I think you would have loved it! You’re going to miss summer! Oh – how you would have loved summer! I think you’d be sitting up by then & we could put you in the little pool in your new swim shorts that you never got to wear. You are not going to be here for the fireworks! The BBQs! The blowing of bubbles and the wearing of short sleeves! Having picnics in the park and staying up late. Camping! How much it hurts my heart that you are going to miss camping! The fishing with your daddy, the campfire, the brilliant stars at night.  You’re going to miss Autumn, my baby boy. The gorgeous turning of the leaves. Going back to school. The pumpkins. You never got to ever dress in a costume & go trick-or-treating! Oh, my baby boy, I am SO SORRY that you are missing out on that! And winter… I know you were around for winter, but it was mostly spent in hospitals or inside. You are going to miss out on snowman-building, sledding, sipping hot cocoa, and really experiencing CHRISTMAS!  Oh… all these holidays… all these seasons… all these traditions that you aren’t going to get to experience in mortality. Oh! It makes my heart hurt. I am so, so, so sorry. I know you will see them from the other side, but it’s not the same & it’s NOT FAIR!  And it's not fair that I will miss most of your first year milestones. The crawling. The walking. The talking. I feel so cheated! And it’s not fair that you get to be there with Heavenly Father & I am stuck down here in this carnal world and don’t have any idea when I will see you again. IT’S JUST NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that I have to see other people with their babies. They get to have them, hold them, kiss them, sing to them, tuck them in at night, watch them grow. Watch them LIVE. IT’S NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that your sisters have to grieve you - have to miss you every day and wonder when you will come back & let them hug you and dance with you and get you to smile and laugh. IT’S NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that every year, your sisters will get updated pictures on the wall. They will change as they grow. But yours will not change. It will remain the same. You won't have pictures from when you are 5 months old. Or 6 months old. Or a year. Or two. I won’t get to see what color your hair really WAS going to be when it came in – or if your eyes would have held that blue. IT’S NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that I won’t get to see you grow up, go to school, make friends, serve an earthly mission, get married on earth, etc. IT’S NOT FAIR! It’s not fair that your dad won’t have another priesthood holder in our home. Oh! I was so excited to finally give him a son! It’s not fair that he won’t be able to go on father/son camp outs with you, or go to scouts, or match ties, or play with matchbox cars that he saved from his childhood for his future son, or go four-wheeling. Oh – how I was looking forward to seeing that father/son bond as you grew. IT’S NOT FAIR!"

Do I sound like whiny three-year-old child? 

I sure feel like a child sometimes. 

I wonder how I can be expected to help my girls through this when I feel like a child myself. I can barely function as a human being, let alone a wife, let alone a mother. 

Please forgive me as I let the anger come. As I feel it and I work through it.  

I bring it to my husband and he holds me. 

I bring it to my God and he lets me rant and rave and yell. And after it all, and I am left a  sobbing heap on the floor, he speaks quietly to my heart. He speaks comfort. He speaks hope. He speaks love. And I sob some more. Because he loves me. Because He knows. He knows like no one else knows. He knows. 

It's been one month since Link died. ONE MONTH. The 26th of every month is going to be a hard day for a while, I think. It's now been a month since I've held him, since I've seen those bright blue eyes, since I've heard him cry.  But it hasn't been a month since I've talked to him. I talk to him every day. It hasn't been a month since I've loved him. I will keep on loving him every minute of every day.