Mountains to climb

I found out last night that another Mother from my chat board has lost her son. Her little boy lived just one day longer than mine. From what I understand there was some hope, which I can only imagine made his few days here a nightmarish roller coaster ride for his Mommy and Daddy. It looked like he would survive with the help of surgery to repair his tiny heart, but in the end they had to make the same agonizing decision we did. They too held their tiny son as he died.

I hoped I'd never hear about another child lost like this. Not because I can't handle hearing about it, but because I never wanted anyone to have to go through the unbearable pain my beloved and I have. It's unfathomable that someone as kind as S is starting out on the long journey I did 5 months ago. It's all uphill and it's a miserable, long, lonely road to walk.

But there's no choice but to take those first heavy, slow steps.

I remember it so well. Lost in a whirlwind of sorrow, physical pain and weakness, praying desperately for it all to be some horrible bad dream. Those first steps were hard, but I needed to take them so they could carry me to where I am now - a place with, finally, a small amount of peace. I know there are still mountains of sorrow to climb, but at least there are now also small peaceful valleys in which to rest.

Oh S, I'm so sorry. I'm just so, so sorry.