As the day of Ryan's birthday gets closer, I have been thinking a lot about the past year and a half. I have been cherishing the memories of my moments with my son. I have been remembering those who have walked through the journey beside me and my family. In light of that, I wanted to share something that I read posted by another BLM ~


Just Because time has passed

doesn't mean that all is fine.

My sadness, and my grief

Hasn’t diminished with time.


... Just Because I am smiling

doesn't mean that I'm not down.

I cry for my little baby

when no one is around.


You ask me how I'm feeling,

but do you really want to know?

The moment I try telling you

You say you have to go


How can I tell you,

what it's been like for me

I am haunted, I am broken

By things that you don't see


You ask me how I'm holding up,

but do you really care?

The second I try to speak my heart;

You start squirming in your chair.


Everyone avoids me now,

because they don't know what to say

They tell me I'll be there for you,

then turn and walk away.


Call me if you need me,

that's what everybody said,

But how can I call you and scream

into the phone,

My God, my child is dead?


No one will let me

say the words that I need to say

Why does a mother's grief

scare everyone away?


I am tired of pretending

as my heart pounds in my chest,

I say things to make you comfortable,

but my soul finds no rest.


How can I tell you things

that are too sad to be told,

of the helplessness of holding a child

who in your arms grows cold?


You cannot imagine

what it was like for me that day

to place a final kiss upon that cheek,

and have to turn and walk away.


If you really love me,

and I believe you do,

if you really want to help me,

here is what I need from you.


Sit down beside me,

reach out and take my hand,

Say "My friend, I've come to listen,

I want to understand."


Just hold my hand and listen

that's all you need to do,

And if by chance I shed a tear,

it's all right if you do to.


I swear that I'll remember

till the day I'm very old,

the friend who sat and held my hand

and let me bare my soul.



I hope one day, no mom will ever know the pain of burying her child. I hope that one day, no mom will have to wonder what color her child's eyes were or only imagine the sound of her child's cry. But until that time, if you know a mom who has experienced the immeasurable grief of living without their child, here is my advice. Call their child by name, invite them to tell you about their child, remember their child with them. Don't be scared by their tears, what happened to them is not contagious. If it makes you feel awkard just try to imagine the hurt of not feeling comfortable talking about your child, because of being worried about making people uncomfortable or sad. My son may have only lived for two hours, but I am still a proud mother and I still want to say his name and tell you about him. When you ask me how many children I have, I will tell you that I have one living child, and by your response I will know if it is okay to tell you about my other wonderful and much loved child. Just remember, these children are gone to soon, but they will live forever in the hearts of those who love them.