I don't know if I'm ever going to publish this post, however, in the spirit of letting go and moving forward I want to share these notes that I wrote to Ryan over the course of a few months. Yes - they are very personal, but part of me feels like if I publish them, it's almost like freeing my mind of them. If I keep them secret, they're always here, but if I publish them it's like I'm scattering the ashes out in to the universe and everyone can take a little and I'll have less on my shoulders. It sounds crazy but I guess in the age of technology, I can't tear them up, or hide them in a box, or burn them... I guess I could print them, then delete them but they'd still be only mine to see. If I put them 'out there', maybe they'll serve as inspiration to another mom going through something terrible. The first note I wrote on my phone in the hotel room where we stayed during the worst weekend of our lives. I believe I wrote it around 3 am through many tears.
This first one was written in June - somewhere around this time last year.
To my baby boy Ryan,
I have known and loved you for 51 days now. You came
into the world too early and now you are threatening to leave it too soon. Every
time I close my eyes I think of you lying in your little house and I wish I
could be beside you, rocking you, and keeping you safe. I wish there was
something I could do to make you better. I still have hope that all of a sudden,
you're going to be fine, but you are so sick, the doctors are telling us that
you might not get better and that really hurts mommy and daddy's hearts. You
have a lot of people who love you without ever having met you. You are the
cutest baby at Sinai with your blonde hair and bright eyes. You love your
soother, and were so smart to learn how to suck on it. I'm so proud of you for
that.
You have a big sister who loves you and wants you to come home. She
calls you Mr. Ryan and really wants to play with your toys. We've talked about
Baxter before, and how much you would love him, although you will probably be
allergic to him because of your sick lungs. Your daddy and I have spent a lot of
time beside your bed, whether you know it or not and our favourite part of our
visits is when we get to touch you without making you upset. Your nurses love
you and are doing their best to help you feel better. Mommy's heart breaks every
time I think about you being all by yourself. If you end up in heaven (I never
really believed in heaven until now) you have lots of people who will take care
of you, especially your grandma who mommy hasn't even met yet, so you're kinda
lucky. I still hope that you get all better and come home with us. You're
getting so big and you're so strong. Mommy loves you, baby boy and I never want
you to feel lonely or sad, so if you are in pain I want you to let us know so we
can make you all better. Mommy's so sorry she couldn't help you.
This next note I wrote a few days later:
June 21, 2012
Baby boy - you are doing well. You just need to keep breathing. The doctors have
given you a lot of medicine that makes you really tired, then you forget to
breathe. Everyone wants you to breathe. We are waiting and waiting for you to be
strong enough to do it on your own but we are running out of time. I know you
can do it and will be so proud of you when you do. We love you baby boy. You can
do it. Even if it's just for a little while. We'll hear you cry for the first
time. Nurse Nancy said you might sound like a bit like a cat, but it will be
beautiful. She's right.
This one was about a month later. July 27, 2012
Baby boy: you are almost 90 days old.
We are so proud of you. You are
breathing on a machine that is doing a lot less work. You only need a bit of
medicine to help your lungs work better and you are learning how to eat mommy's
milk. We never thought that day would come. Good job! We are excited that you
will come home soon. It has been nice to see you looking around and liking your
music. Everybody loves you and everyone is so proud of you. Keep going baby
boy.
This one was written in November, a couple months after Ryan got home.
To my big baby boy
Its time for another letter because you have been home for
8 weeks now and we're so proud of you. We got some sad news that your ears might
not be working as well as they should be. I don't believe them because I think
that you can hear, and that you just need time to adjust to your new world
outside the hospital. There are so many new sounds, it might take your brain a
while to get used to all of them. One of the best sounds you'll ever hear is
your sister's singing and reading stories. Also, Grandma and mommy talk to you
all day. One sound that mommy doesn't like but daddy loves is the sound of
football on tv. You'll probably grow to love that sound. Baxter has a loud bark
that I'm sure you'll hear when he comes home to live. There are too many sounds
in the world to write about, but I hope that you get to hear them all. We often
have music playing in your room, and I'm pretty sure you like it because you
often fall alseep when it is playing.
We also have to work on your eating. I
think that you get tired and want your food put in your belly but big boys eat
their food through their mouths, so soon it's going to be time for you to do
that. Everyone hopes that you will, and that you won't need an operation.
Especially mommy.
Ok big man, time for bed. We love you. We are proud of
you. And you are going to be just fine. Don't be scared of all the new things.
Mommy, sadie and daddy will always be there for you.
Love love love mommy.
I wrote this one right before his first birthday:
Apr 24
Baby Boy.
You are almost one year old. You are the youngest one year old and
the oldest 8.5 month old I've ever met. You are doing very well. You are
drinking all your milk from a cup, so you don't have your tube in your nose
anymore. Mommy worries about you all day everyday but lots of times you look at
me and let me know that you're going to be ok. You are on a lot less oxygen than
when you came home. Probably soon they'll let us turn it off for a while. Maybe
on your birthday for a little while. It will be so nice to be able to go out
without all the extra tubes. You're a handsome guy, even with your tubes.
Everybody is proud of you. You need to keep showing mommy how strong you are. I
read the letter I wrote you in June when you were so sick. It's amazing how far
you've come. You have a long way to go, but everybody will keep helping you
along the way. The only thing you need to do is sleep and eat - we'll help you
with the rest. Night night big boy.
As I read these letters I get a pit in my stomach because they are so real. I
don't even really remember thinking as I was writing. It's weird having a blog because sometimes during the day I start thinking about my post and kind of composing it in my head. These letters were not premeditated - they were either written in a time of desperation or happiness. If I ever post this I hope that the letters don't make people sad, I hope that they can inspire hope to anyone facing tough situations. I'm trying to move ahead and put the bad times behind us. I don't want to forget, but I want to start to find the good in what we went through. I think that the video was one way to do that, and these letters may be the last piece I've been hanging on to. Onwards and upwards. June of last year was the worst month of our lives. This June will hopefully be one of the best once the giant oxygen tank is picked up and taken far far away. I'm about to press 'publish' and am already feeling better. Also, today Sadie and I have a date to go to the zoo with a friend I met in the NICU. Her baby was born at 26 weeks, 2 weeks after Ryan. Today the babies are staying home, this is a day for the toddlers - but they'll join us soon. A much better way to spend a day than where we were a year ago. Amazing what a year can do.
