| Connor had a tough time
entering this world on March 21, 1995. He was not due until May 1st, but
when his mother Nora had an amniocentesis the placenta was nicked and,
despite all efforts to the contrary, went into labor almost two months
early. I got the call around 8:00 a.m. and was on a plane by 11:00.
When I arrived in St. Louis I found out I
had a 3 lb. 4 oz. grandson who was fighting for life. When I went in to
see him all his tubes had been removed and he was lying -- stark naked
-- on his tummy sucking on a pacifier!
On the fourth day I was allowed to hold
Connor. I sat in a rocking chair and sang to him. I don't think he cared
that I can't carry a tune. He looked at me and smiled (it was not
gas). I noticed that he looked like his granddad and that his eyes
seemed to hold the "wisdom of the ages." And yet still I sang
him a silly little nursery song. I told him how much his Nana loved him.
I talked baby-talk to him. I kissed him and held his hand. Then a nurse
came and took him back to his bed and I told him I would be back
tomorrow.
Unfortunately, by "tomorrow" I had
caught a cold and couldn't enter the nursery. I had to stand outside and
look through the glass. When it was time for me to return to Phoenix his
mother held him up so I could wave goodbye.
I didn't worry about getting back to St.
Louis -- I had to work and I had a lifetime to take a trip to see my
grandchildren. But I got another 8:00 a.m. call on September 24th. That
"lifetime" was gone. Once again, I was on a plane by 11:00.
One last time I saw Connor, but no longer could he look into my eyes. No
longer did his eyes hold "the wisdom of the ages." Now he was
the wisdom of the ages.
All our lives changed that day. Sudden
Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS)
claimed my baby's baby. My grandson died and so did the daughter I knew.
I could not kiss away her pain -- and I could not share it. My babies
lived and grew up. They had babies of their own. I had no frame of
reference from which to alleviate her sorrow. And she could not help me
-- we were a world apart in our grief.
God has blessed us in spite of our loss.
Her son is gone, and the daughter I knew before is gone, but because we
were granted the wisdom to communicate we have grown even closer than
before. Together we have accepted that Connor, though physically gone,
is still very much a part of our lives; that the lack of an explanation
of the cause of his death is secondary to making the most of
our lives -- lives he touched and changed in his short time with us. She
has devoted herself to helping others who are going through the tragedy
of the death of a child. And I hope, through this and other pages I will
be posting, to reach out to parents and grandparents to raise awareness
of the tragedy of SIDS.
Research into causes and preventions continues. Please visit my links
to sites that will enlighten, sadden, and gladden.
If SIDS has touched your life in any way,
know that my heart is with you in your sorrow. If it has not touched
you, my prayer is that it never will. If you have or know a child
between one month and two years old, be aware of risk reduction methods
-- such as "Back to Sleep" and a totally smoke-free
environment. God bless. |