Thirteen Years Ago My Son Died
They “claim” that time heals all wounds, but in this case, I’m still bleeding profusely. I keep bleeding through the band-aids and the gauze pads, nothing that I’ve applied is helping this wound heal, but maybe this will help.
Dear Joshua,
Wow. I can’t believe it’s been thirteen years since you left us. I often dream of what you would be doing right now if you were alive. I’m certain your voice would be cracking and you’d have peach fuzz growing on your chin, maybe some dirt on your lip. I imagine you’d be a little tall for your age, just like your brother was when he was thirteen.
The big ONE THREE.
Dude! How did you get so old so quickly? My little guy looks just like his grandma, with ears like his great-grandfather, and big ole feet like his older brother. I’m certain you’d be playing basketball and football and video games. I know for a fact that you’d be eating me out of house and home. What is it with boys and their need to eat everything in sight? Time for you to get a J-O-B, little one.
I am so proud of you for getting A’s and B’s, we have to work on this C in History though. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s their history and not our history, but I still want you to pick that grade up, k? I can’t tell you how proud I am for you sticking up for your classmates that get bullied and for you wanting to change how things are handled in your school. You remind me of your big sister Shai — you have such a huge heart like her, she was always sticking up for what’s wrong and fighting for kids like her.
Joshua, you are such an intelligent, handsome, caring, loving young man. Out of the five of you, you don’t get on my nerves as much, even though you can be a pain in my ass when you don’t get something you want — just like Lisa.
How did I get so lucky?
I daydream often about you still being in our lives, but I know that is not the case. I want you to know that I wanted you, I was looking forward to you joining our family. Even though you were conceived two years after your brother died, you were going to be your own individual. You weren’t a replacement for Isaiah, Joshua.
I remember when the minus turned into a plus sign and I screamed. I felt like I was the happiest person on the planet! I was going to have another baby and then…I froze. I had a case of the “what ifs”.
What if I lose this baby like I did Isaiah?
What if I fall?
What if I miscarry?
What if…
Your father assured me that nothing was going to happen, but we were careful. I was careful.
Your brother died when I was six and a half months pregnant and if I had it my way, I wouldn’t have told anyone I was pregnant until I was twenty-six weeks and one day. Instead, we didn’t buy anything until we left the doctor’s office when I was twenty-six weeks.
I distinctly remember that doctor’s visit. My doc assured me that everything was going well, the heartbeat was as strong as an ox, and that you were a future Olympian gymnast. That’s how much you were tumbling inside of me. My doc told me to drink Pepsi three times a week to make sure you were moving with no problems.
We left the office and headed straight for Baby R Us. I had a field day in there, I was buying any and everything. I was having fun. I finally felt at ease, I could breathe knowing that you were safe and that you would make it.
It was smooth sailing for well over a month. I was right at the finish line. We left the doctor’s office the week before and he told me that everything looked fine and that you would be here between now and two weeks.
But then, the unimaginable happened to me again.
I was having these cramps and ridiculous pressure and I knew that “it was time”, we had made arrangements for your brother and sisters and off we went to the hospital on January 25th. Another Aquarius baby, like your older brother (January 21st) and your mom (February 11th). Hackensack Hospital checked us in and off we were zoomed to labor and delivery. It was hella funny to me because the orderly taking me to L&D, was my ex-boyfriend.
OOPS! (I didn’t tell your dad tho, keep this between us.)
When we got to the room, they hooked us up to the monitor and the nurse was looking for your heartbeat. She couldn’t find it. She asked me how far along I was with you and where did they normally find your heartbeat. I gave the nurse the info and she still couldn’t hear that precious little heartbeat.
I prayed and prayed to hear the galloping horses coming from the monitor, but to no avail. The nurse brought in the ultrasound machine and searched for you.
And searched.
And searched.
She called in another nurse (pregnant) who searched and they looked back at me, tears filled one of the nurse’s eyes. She told me that they’ll be calling my doctor and he’ll be here shortly.
I looked at your dad and told him that you were dead. He told me to stop thinking so negatively, but I knew. I knew you were with your brother in Heaven.
I rang the call button and asked the nurse to page the on-call OB so we can get on with it. He came. He did the ultrasound and said to your dad and I that you were, “not viable” and apologized profusely.
I went into shock again. I couldn’t believe that I was two weeks away from having you and you were taken from me, just like your brother. You were born still on February 2nd, 2006.
I am so sorry Joshua, I am so sorry that I couldn’t give you life. I am so sorry that my umbilical cord was so long that it wrapped around your neck three times. I can’t imagine the pain that you had to feel while you were being choked. Why didn’t I know? Why couldn’t I tell that this was happening to you.
Baby boy, I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I wanted you so badly. I wanted to smother you with kisses and hugs. My heart hurts and longs for you so much, Joshua.
After I had you I got extremely sick. Since it took a week for me to deliver you the hospital overloaded me with fluids and I ended up having congestive heart failure. I was rushed to another hospital and was put on the transplant list, given a blood transfusion and my last rites. I was so happy.
I was finally going to be with my two dead children and I couldn’t ask for anything more. My wishes came true, but then it was snatched from me and they healed me. I guess I should’ve be happy about that, but I wasn’t, all I knew is that I wanted you in my arms.
I still do.
I miss you, Joshua. So damn much that it hurts to breathe. I never got to hear you cry, I never saw your eyes. You never saw your mommy. It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!
It breaks my heart so much that you aren’t here with your siblings. They miss you too. I often wonder what it would’ve been like having all five of you in the house. I know it would’ve been harder with me being a single mom, but it would be so worth it.
Two weeks ago I went to visit you and Isaiah at the cemetery. Lisa and I talked to you both and we hugged each other while I cried. We laughed about how things would be if you both were here with us.
Even though y’all aren’t here physically with me, I carry you both in my heart and right above my heart. (I need to get a touch up.)
And of course my first tattoo was dedicated to you both.
Even though I never got a chance to carry you or your brother as babies, I carry around you and Isaiah with me all of the time.
Joshua, you’re thirteen now. I want you to watch your brother (yes, I know he’s older and should watch you.) and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble. If he talks back, tell him that mom put you in charge. Look after your Great-grandma and Great-grandpa, as well as Aunt Cookie, Aunt Pauline and Aunt Sue. Help them with anything they need.
You’re so amazing and kind, loving and wonderful. And above that, my precious baby. I will forever and a day love you. I can feel you giving me the tightest hug right now as I type this letter to you.
You are missed and loved, Joshua.
Happy thirteenth birthday.
Love always,
Mom.