The Christmas Letter I can’t send

Dear Family and Friends,

This year has sucked. All but the first 2 days of it have just plain SUCKED. It has been a year long nightmare. The kind I wish that nobody has to experience. I still go to bed each night, hoping that I will wake from the nightmare to the sound of Mica. But each morning, I reset my brain to my new reality that he isn’t here.

We have done our best to muddle through and give Ned as much “normal” as humanly possible but our family is just not normal anymore. We are broken. We all have days or moments of anger or weepy or just numb. But we try to keep up with things for Ned. Getting him to school each day and making it to his activities even when the last thing we want to do is get out of bed and be in public.

The simplest things are hard. Paying bills sucks, there is plenty of money but facing them each month is hard and I have no idea why. Going to the grocery store alone hurts. Doing laundry sucks because there are no diapers or toddler clothes to fold. Facing each and every mundane everyday task is just much harder then it should be. And making a decision about anything (from what to eat to what to do with a free weekend) is enough to send Sam and I into a panic attack.

And then there is the forgetfulness. Things just disappear from my head. Gone. No idea what was there, but pretty sure there was something that I was going to say or do… if I even remember that much.

So please forgive us if we hide in the corner or have to go outside for a bit. Or if we are late or forget about something all together. Because this year sucks.

And please forgive me when I look at your “perfect” family with despise and think to myself “why me.” I don’t wish our road on anybody, but at this point in time I would pick any road but mine. I am working on remembering that everybody has a story, and I don’t know who else is wearing a mask to cover a broken heart. My mask is new and cracks a lot allowing the tears to escape but others have been wearing theirs longer.

And please, oh please, mention Mica. Say his name. Tell me what you remember about him. Tell me you thought of him for this reason or that. Just let me know that you have not forgotten the little boy who means the world to me. Yes, I will cry as soon as you start, so cry with me because he mattered and you remember him.

Because it isn’t fair. We only got 17 months with a little boy who was such a joy. And it isn’t fair that we have no idea why he is gone. We have nobody or thing to hate and try to cure. And it isn’t fair that Ned has to ask “will I always be an only child?” None of it is fair and this year just SUCKS.

Love,
Esme

PS. I love you Mica, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Ramblings

Dear Mica, Mommy is having trouble writing. I have lots of stuff I want to say to you but I can’t seem to finish a thought or find the right words. Mommy and daddy are struggling so much without you. We are both so grief stricken that it is hard to make ourselves do anything. Easter was crazy hard, mommy couldn’t even look at the little kids at the city easter egg hunt and visiting my grandma’s house and seeing your second cousin ripped at mommy and daddy’s hearts.

We finally got the report from your autopsy and as I feared they found nothing but the adenovirus. But there was no organ damage from the adenovirus, so I don’t understand how it can be considered the cause. My understanding is that if you die from the adenovirus there should be evidence of lung or brain damage caused by the infection. The only sign of an infection in your tiny little body was swollen lymph nodes. I have been talking with the SUDC (Sudden unexplained death in childhood) program and I’m hoping that they can help me understand and they might have a study coming up that will lead to more testing to see if they can find a cause.

I went to Costco the other day and there was a little boy in the cart in front of me in the check out line. He was 17 months old and kept saying hi and bye. You never had the chance to learn to say either of those but you had other words and so many signs.

Speaking of signs, Ned’s best friend mentioned you yesterday. We were walking home and talking about his little brother. He told me that his little brother (who 2 1/2) isn’t a boy yet because he doesn’t talk much but you could sign so well. It was kind of a weird connection for a 7 year old boy to make but I loved having him say your name. His little brother does talk and asked “where is Micer” a couple of weeks ago. That one made mommy cry because you two were suppose to be buddies and I don’t know how long he will remember you since he is so young.

Ned wants to plan a “fun run” this summer. Mommy and daddy are trying to steer him towards making it a memorial event for you but I’m not sure how hard to push him. We have convinced him to plan it for July sometime around your birthday. He wants to have a 1K race, but some how involve a 3-legged race and running backwards. I’m thinking we will add a pool party to the mix and raise money for the library. We will see if mommy and daddy can help Ned pull the event together.

I love you baby boy. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow too.