Finally, one bright February morning I was wheeled into the operating room for a caesarean. The result was an oversized, fiery-haired baby boy with dark blue eyes and a teeny tiny cry. He nursed with ease and had a quiet, easy going demeanour. All of my discomfort suddenly was worth it and I left the hospital beaming with pride.

From the time he was born there seemed to be a strong mystical bond which drew the whole family closer together. The existing relationships, which were unstable and uncomfortable before grew happier and seemed more important. My little one aroused feelings and actions previously only dreamt about in all of us.

I embraced the blessing of my new family ties and my new little one with my whole being. The little bundle opened places in our souls which had never been explored and we were the best we'd ever been. There is no word for the feeling or experience that our little angel initiated.

When I'd become pregnant I did not leave the military like I'd wanted due to financial concerns which seemed very important at the time. Now that my son had arrived, other priorities emerged and I regretted not leaving. Like all good military members, I had to return to duty after only a short period of time. It came too soon and my heart sank further and further each time I dropped my baby off with our daycare provider. There always seemed to be an overwhelming feeling that time was precious and passing quickly through my fingers. I tried to ignore the feeling and do what was expected of me despite my feelings...it was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.

Two months flew by and one cool Sunday evening I found myself beside the baby's crib. I had changed, fed, burped, rocked, kissed and sang to him. Now he was wrapped up in his blanket like a burrito and laid down to sleep off his regular fussy time. It had become part of our daily routine since the silence always calmed him.

When he failed to rouse in an hour I went to wake him and keep him on the small schedule he had begun to form. I found that he had undone his wrap and rolled onto his stomach. I reached out to roll him over so he could see me as he woke up - something I felt was important for all my children. As I touched his skin, a cold, hollow feeling ran up my arm, making my whole being feel empty and scared. His face was blue on the side and there was a small amount of blood near his nose. Just as I realised what had happened my mind froze and I was suddenly plunged into the depths of the worst nightmare a mother could ever have.

The rest of the evening is oddly clear in some places of my memory and very fuzzy in others. Technically, everything was accomplished with the utmost in care and urgency. The Emergency crew arrived just minutes after our panicked telephone call while the dispatcher helped instruct us in infant CPR. The doctors worked tirelessly for two hours after we got to the hospital trying to revive my son. After my call, my parents and church and the 700 club all prayed for a miracle that never happened. My son remained embraced by eternity. Because everyone did everything right, I can remember the event without dwelling on what should have been and without many unanswered questions lingering in my mind.

Most of the following week, my mind was seized by a silent scream and my thoughts raced uncontrollably. As my heart shattered over and over, I prayed this was just a dream. So far, if it is, I haven't awoke and hold no hope of doing so.

My heart and life were irrevocably touched by the life and death of my little son in ways which can never be calculated. The empty space remains over a decade later. As with most people, I have lost many family members. Nothing can compare to the experience of bringing a healthy child home to be part of a family and having your dreams for him die when he is claimed by SIDS.

Part of the healing process for me involved examining the purpose for his little life and learning about SIDS to discover what had happened to us. I know the purpose of his life, or parts of it. That is a great comfort to me. I was surprised though, when talking to pastors, counsellors and others who have buried children that there are so many who have been affected by SIDS. SIDS, which can strike a child anytime from birth to age two, touches over 2000 families each year. Obviously my experience is not an unusual one and that fact makes me sad.

Over the years of trying to come to terms with my son's short life I have gone through many phases. I have accused myself of being neglectful of the time I had with him. I have cried myself to sleep on numerous occasions because of the empty place at the table. I have invented memorials and traditions in our family to keep his memory alive and to live through the pain. I still miss my son but I have given him to God and cherish the memories.

Read some of the things I have done to deal with my son's death. They may help you.

Here are some resources to help you understand what has taken place in your life if you have lost a loved one to SIDS. If you know of anything which should be linked here, please let me know.

SIDS Network
SIDS.Org
SIDS Australia
SIDS Alliance
National SIDS Resource Center
Institutes of Health Articles
Back To Sleep Campaign
A Family Support Page
Reduce the Risk of SIDS
Family Village Library on SIDS

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