Questions with no answers

by

April 16, 2013
2:54 pm

Will you come see me, my angel
When I go to sleep tonight?
Will you hold me, my angel
When in darkness there’s no light?
Will you comfort me, my angel
When tears stream down my face?
Will you come see me, my angel
When I lay you in your final resting place?

Leo,
I miss you dearly. I have more questions than I have answers right now. One thing I know for sure is that I love you, I alway have, and I always will.
Love,
Mom

Empty Arms

by

April 15, 2013
4:08 pm

Leo,
Your death keeps playing over and over in my mind. I hope I never forget the sound of you taking your last two “breaths”, or the taste of your blood in my mouth, or the heart breaking feeling of my empty arms. I need this pain to remind me that you were real and not just a beautiful dream.

Planning your funeral has been surreal. I have had ups and downs at each step. The only things I know for sure anymore are that I love you, I love your father, and I love your sisters with my whole heart and soul. We are all connected forever and I cannot wait to see you again.
Thank you for sending me the cranes. 🙂
Love,
Mom

Mourning in the morning

by

April 13, 2013
6:53am

Good morning my sweet baby,
My heart aches today because I don’t have you in my arms. I’m sending you lots of kisses and a big hug. I slept with your blanket the last two nights. It seems silly, but it makes me feel a little better to have something of yours close to me.

You were the best baby and I’m sure you would’ve grown up to be an amazing man. I wish that God planned for you to be in my life longer than three weeks…but I have to accept that my short time with you was a gift. A precious gift.

I love you sweet Leo. I will meet you in heaven.
Love,
Your mom

“Should”

by

April 12, 2013
2:36pm

Leo,
There are so many things that I “should” be doing right now. At the funeral home, I thought that I should be pushing your stroller into the handicap stall in the bathroom and I was so sad to realize that I wasn’t pregnant and I didn’t have you in a stroller.
I thought to myself, I should have you with me right now. But I don’t. And if god thought I should have you, I would. Truth is, I am supposed to be here, planning my 3 week old son’s funeral. I don’t know why, and it kills me. But I trust that god didn’t give me more than I can handle. I love you so much.
Love,
Mom