Sigh

You know, there's this strange thing that happens sometimes. Sometimes I realize Alex is dead. I know, you are wondering where the hell I've been, he's been dead for 2 1/2 years. Tonight I read what I have of his medical record which is surgical notes and lab and radiology reports. I don't understand. I don't understand how things went the way they did.

I don't understand how he did so well after surgery the first time, coming off bypass and satting at 94%, to ripping all the sutures out and nearly bleeding to death and ending up on ECMO. I don't understand how the x-ray the morning he died showed "significant improvement" in the appearance of his lungs from the night before and 5 hours later x-ray showed his lungs still looked great, what they could see around the defibrillator paddle at least. I don't understand any of it.

I understand the words (well, enough anyway) but it doesn't make sense. My heart just can't even fathom what went on in those 6 weeks and 5 days.

Reading the ultrasound report from his head ultrasound. Reading the the Radiologists words that it was unknown what the bleeding in his brain would mean longterm. Reading the report from the neurologist that said "he turns his eyes left to look at his father". OMG that killed me.

I remember when he would lay there, eyes wide open even as doped up on meds as he was and his little body wouldn't move except his eyes, looking in response to our voices. I remember looking into those eyes that didn't show fear or pain, but a sense of calmness that gave me so much hope. A machine working for hisheart and lungs and still he was there, he was there.

And then I remember those eyes filled with pain. Those silent wails. And I would stroke his tiny cheek and he would stop, open his eyes and look straight into mine and cry again his silent cry.

Oh how I wanted to scoop him up and tell him everything was going to be ok. But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything.

The day he died I remember feeling the need to protect him. I hadn't been able to protect him for so long. Even though he was gone it felt so wonderful to finally have him in my arms where no-one could hurt him anymore. To shield him from the pain he could no longer feel. Or may I was using his tiny lifeless body as a shield for my own pain. I don't know.

Today I'm not ok. I wonder when I ever will be. Never? I feel so ripped off. Everything he went through was for nothing and today I hate God for that. I don't feel inclined to feel the "God's will" or " for a reason" bullshit today. I can think of a million reasons why children shouldn't die and not one reason they should. I feel today that God is a hypocrit quite frankly.

The only peace I have is knowing that this moment will pass and the thin film that covers my heart and protects it from this raw emotion will repair itself once again and tomorrow will be a new day. A new day where the sun comes up and life goes on. Even when it doesn't.