I used to wonder if I was being paranoid.
I read all of the research I could find on SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.) It was an unknown cause of death in a baby. They go to sleep and never wake up again. It's like the Native American belief that your spirit travels while you sleep... except that these little babies forget to come home and instead head north, to Heaven. And you hope that's exactly what happens, that the tiny soul sees a light, becomes distracted, heads towards the light and are enveloped in loving arms to be taken care of until their parents can hold them again.
When Weston was baking away in my womb, I worried every single day about his health. If my diabetes was hurting him more than it was hurting me. If he wasn't kicking enough, I'd roll around or poke him until he responded back. I read everything I could find on SIDS. One of my classmates told me never to get the monitors with video, because I would spend all night watching him sleep once he arrived. So... in accordance with my paranoia, we purchased an Angel monitor system, 2 monitors for the parents, a base for his room, and a special pad that sits under his crib mattress. This special pad monitors the baby's breathing, if no breathing movements are detected
under the mattress for 20 seconds, then all the alarms scream. I know... it's gone off multiple times because we forget to turn it off when we pick him up or his wiggles his way so far into the corner that he's out of range. (We've moved the pad higher up to avoid his wiggles.) I am grateful everyday for this monitor. When he's asleep we keep the house between 63 and 68 degrees, no crib bumpers, no puffy blankets or loose clothing. We followed all the rules to avoid SIDS. And I am so grateful that they worked.
But... then again, who knows what could have happened? SIDS is given as an answer whenever there is no reason for a baby to have passed away in his/her sleep. Why am I writing all this? Today of all days? A friend's neighbor's 4 month old daughter went down for her nap at daycare on Monday. She never woke up. The
obituary is beautiful, even if it should never have existed. Her parents and my friend now have to explain to two three-year-old little boys what happened to this baby and where she went. Her family will always be missing a piece of their world. They will always wonder... what she'd look like, grow up to be, what her laugh would sound like as a toddler?
The passing of this little girl makes me so incredibly sad. For her mother, I could cry for days just for her mother. Her little brother will be so confused. This baby lived in a very close neighborhood. Her loss will be felt by so many.
Her passing also makes me look at Weston. I have been getting so frustrated with him lately. The constant whining and tantrums, the crying... it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how exhausted I am. Or how stressed I am. None of it matters. Because I have my little boy today. I get to talk to him, have him throw himself at me when I get to daycare, and he can run his cars up and down my body going "Beee...beee...beee" as much as he wants. I am so very lucky to have him. And I will strive every single day to remember that.
