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shaunsmom22

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It was Saturday, May 26, 2007. A day etched into my very being. It began like any other day would. Started off great, and like any other day. I had 2 sons. I woke up to start my day taking care of them, as any other mother would. Jayson, my 6 month old, was awake and crying of hungerI prepared my youngest child's bottle and went to feed him. Shaun, my 2 year old, woke up from the commotion of me coming in and getting the baby up to eat. So began my regular routine of dirty diapers, feedings, and all the other normal mother duties. The day progressed into late evening and we were just at home enjoying being together as a family. My youngest was taking a nap, my oldest was playing with toys, my husband and I were playing a game on our computer. it was late and we descided to turn in for the night. It was like 10:30 pm. i needed to check on the baby and change him and feed him. I did this ever night. I got him up and fed him, spent time with him, and bonded with him, as my oldest and my husband slept. I was almost always the last to go to bed. We had just put Shaun down. i was preping for feeding Jayson, while my husband went and got him. It was always like this. Nathan, my husband, was the fetcher. I was the feeder. I always fed and changed him and my husband always went and got him and also put him down to sleep when he was tired (well, when he wasn't working). it was our unspoken duty. this particular night would change the course of our lives, and define what true inner pain meant.

i was ready to take on Jayson and feed him. Spend my time with him. I was expecting him to be grugy and fussy, as always. this time there was no crying... only silence, horrible, frightening silence. my husband picked up our son and knew immediately something was wrong. There was no noise, no breath. He brought him into our bedroom and said something. i can't remmber what he said. i probably do not want to know. Jayson was lifeless and had spit up all over. I immediately began CPR. My husband was on the phone wioh 911. My whole life was changing right then. Reality sat in, and I was crying, and trying my best to get a breath from him. Some glimpse of hope. A cry, anything...Nothing. For a moment I stopped... I knew some where inside there was no hope. this wasn't going to bring him back, nothign was. i refused that notion and pressed on. Minutes felt like hours. the paramedics where here. i was told to move back to give them room. I could not move. i was pouring tears. They were warm and wet on my face. they couldn't stop. I said, 'It's too late, isn't it." Though I knew the unspeakable truth, I wasn't prepared to hear it. He said,"unfortunately, yes."... the thoughts came pouring in.... omg omg omg, no... it can't be true, say it's not true, i am a horrible mom, i should have checked on him, i should have been there more, it's my fault... not, not my baby... why? why?... i couldn't breathe, my heart was breaking... shattering into a billion pieces... fragmented, i needed out, i needed air, I could not see him like this anymore. i went outside.

The parmedics were asking if they could help in anyway. i kept saying no. they kept asking. What could they do? They couldn't bring him back. no, one could. My husband an I were then treated like criminals. We were not hand cuffed, but we were put into the back of a Police car and esscorted downtown to the station for questioning. i really don't feel like taling about it. Needless to say, it was 2am when we got home.

I knew I needed to sleep, but I couldn't. images of his lifeless body boggled my mind. They still do, they cloud up my mind ever chance they get. it is like a horrible nightmare i can't get out of. I keep wanting this to be a dream, som kind or cruel nightmare. Where, in reality, everything is really okay. it's not reality. Really, this is a nighmare, a real life nightmare. The tears come and go... the pain is neverending.... some one please wake me up from my terrible nightmare, tell me it's not real. Please....