Shared Experiences

The following is a collection of shared experiences from parents who lost an infant or child.

If you'd like to share your own story,
please click here.

I'm writing to you to give you some information about myself, and to share with you how my darling Maddie touch my world.

Madison Grace Stocks
June 4th 1999 - October 8th 2000

So in 1998 I met the man of my dreams, well so I thought. We were in college and clicked immediately, and I couldn't have been happier. We did everything together, as young couples do, and even talked about marriage. I felt like I was making leaps and bounds as I was entering my "adult" life. Then, I got pregnant, and he dumped me as fast as he could. In an instant my world changed forever. I was devastated about losing him and I was confused about what to do about my pregnancy. Thankfully I have a very supportive family, and my parents and sister helped me transition through the emotional days that laid ahead of me. I think after three or four days of crying I came to a conclusion, I was going to keep my baby and raise her by myself. Her father, Morgan, already had made it clear that he didn't want it by telling me to get an abortion or put it up for adoption, so in the mists of this emotional epiphany I made one of the hardest decisions that I have ever had to make. I told him my plan and set my boundary. I was going to do it alone, and I wasn't going to ask for his help. It was my decision and I am taking full responsibility. BUT, if he EVER wanted to be a part of her life I would NEVER deny him that, but he would have to prove to me that he was ready and that he would never back out. Upon digesting my proposition he packed up and moved from Vermont to Minnesota (no, I'm not kidding).

I continued with college and my job. I think I was three months into my pregnancy went I met my current husband. We worked together and he spilled his heart out one afternoon about this crush that he had had on me for quite some time, and how he couldn't believe how my "ex" could just pack up and go, and then he asked me out. I guess the rest is history in that respect. We have been together for almost 8 years now. (Yes, I'm not quite 30 yet.) Anyway, he stood by me through my pregnancy, he was there in the OR b/c I had to have a c-section, and he basically moved in as soon as the baby was born. She was his daughter. We made it work. We both continued with school full time, and I also worked full time on the weekends. I'm proud to say that I was able to make ends meet without using government assistance outside of Medicaid for her insurance.

When Madison turned 6 months old, Morgan, came home. He wanted to meet her. This was a crazy time. My husband was upset about it and was very protective of her. But to my insistence he let things be. I let Morgan meet her and of course he fell head over heels in love. She looked just like him. Things got rockier then, but we managed. Morgan moved back from Mn and believe it or not the three of us figured out how to all be parents together. Yes, there were times when toes were being stepped on, but that happens in two parent households, we worked it out and moved on. We did what was best for her. To this day our pediatrician still marvels at how we are all still in touch with each other. Morgan and my husband play tennis together, and we dog sit Morgan's dog when he is out of time.

Back on track. We lived as neighbor's, and we co-parented. On October 8th 2000 My husband was on a drill weekend, so Morgan came over early to hang out with Maddie while I went to work. She was still sleeping when I left, and Morgan was hoping to get a few more Z's on the couch before she woke up. So as I left for work, I skipped kissing her goodbye in fear of waking her and starting Morgans day before he wanted. That was a decision that I regret to this day.

You see I worked at Copley Hospital as the admitting clerk in the Emergency Room. That day I was working the 7 a.m.-3 p.m. shift, it was a Sunday. The day went on like normal, I remember it being a pretty slow day in the ER. Morgan called me once to let me know that Maddie wasn't really interested eating and that she seemed congested. Two days prior she was diagnosed with a ear infection and a upper respiratory infection so we figured that the antibiotic wasn't working and she was still feeling down and out from her head cold, pretty normal behavior for a 16 month old baby. So after he hung up with me he said that he put her in the bathroom and let the hot shower steam fill the air. Thinking this would be a non medicinal way to help clear her up. Then he put her down for her afternoon nap.

At 1:30 p.m., or so, the tone went out on the local ambulance. It was being called to the apartment complex that I lived in for a baby that was blue and not breathing. The call was for apt # 18. I breathed a sigh of relief b/c my apt # was 36. Then it hit me that Morgan's # was 18. I don't remember breathing again for days. I rushed into the ER and told the head nurse down there that it was Maddie. Then I ran back to my office and listened to the radio. I could hear the guys talking and reporting that they were at the wrong apt complex...tick-tick-tick....I called the dispatch and told them who I was and that I thought that they were going to pick up my child and I told them where to go. At that point I remember the nurse turning my radio off and telling me that I should try to call my supervisor b/c I shouldn't be working now. She knew more than I did at that point. I was alone. It gets blurry, but somehow my supervisor shows up and relieves me of my desk. I remember pacing up and down the hallways crying and yelling....helpless...that feeling of utter helpless...I wasn't there for her. Then the ambulance arrived. Morgan and his parents, who were up for the day visiting, showed up too. Morgan was ashed, and his mother was surprisingly giddy. He really couldn't tell me at that point what had happened and I really wasn't interested in hearing it, I just wanted to know what was going on behind the closed doors of room 1.

They brought me in as they were working on her....I knew she was gone and that she had been for awhile. I cried and touched her and then told them to stop. It came so natural. She was pronounced dead at 2:22 p.m. The ex-abated her and then let me hold her. My family showed up one by one. My parents and sister were first. Then my husband and an hour or so later my in laws. We were all in shock. Why? How?

They had the normal cop routine because she was an infant. They prodded me for information about Morgan. I guess looking to point some sort of finger. I told them that there was no way that he would hurt her. Then I remember them moving her to room 4. The room right next to my office. In there she was swaddled so tight that It was hard to believe that she was gone and not sleeping. I can't tell you how long I spent in that room....leaving the hospital without her was the hardest.

The days following are all a blurry. She passed on a Sunday. Her autopsy was on Monday and when that was finished I was allowed to pick her up. So My hubby and I made an appt to have a tattoo done in her memory. I'm not the type, but at the time I just needed to do it. It wasn't planned but my tattoo started right at 4 p.m. right when they were beginning her autopsy....When we were finished we drove to the HUGE medical center and met with the medical examiner as well as her pediatrician to talk about what they found. There was nothing. Some things were still to be sent off to their lab, but there was nothing.

The state of Vermont is very lenient about body handling, and we were informed that we could just take her with us and bring her to the funeral home if we wanted. Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. So we carried her body, in a moses basket, in our car and made the 45 minute drive to the funeral home closest to my parents house. At the funeral home, the "guy" (for lack of a better word) told me that I didn't have to have her here. That she wasn't going to sit in a cooler, but on his desk. That back in the day we used to take care of our own, and if I wanted to do that, I could. I could even bring her to the crematorium when I was ready. I collected the needed paper work, and my daughter's body and headed home.

The first night I placed her body on my bed. She was still in her basket, but I needed her close. I inspected her body. Checked every wound that the ME inflicted. I touched her and cried.

The next day we held her wake. We had it at my parents house and once again my memory of this event is quite blurry. I remember a lot of people in my parents house. 104 to be exact (at least that's how many signed in).

On Wednesday I was ready to bring her body to the crematorium - it was time. Nature was telling me. There was nothing gross or disfiguring about her, but I just knew that it was time to go. I drove. I remember my hubby and father being in the car with me. I'm sure that there were others, but I just don't remember. I remember pulling up to the funeral home, caring her inside and saying my last goodbyes. Once again, it was hard to pull away, but I did. Tearfully, my mother and I went to Michael's craft store to find a basket to put her ashes in. I wanted something simple and special, and not "funeral" looking. We found what we were looking for and drove home.

The weeks following are jumbled. And it took about 6 weeks to start to feel normal again. (Normal - loosely, as I'm sure that you can understand.) But it was at that 6 week mark that I learned that I was pregnant. The following fall my son Owen was born. Adding new emotions to how I viewed motherhood. He kept me alive, and still does. A part of me died when I lost Madison, but I hold her deep within my soul, and it is that memory that aids me in how I mother today. I think of her at least once a day, and I live my life for my kids.

Madison's fulfilled her life's mission is such a short time. She showed me how to love and live after a loss. She showed me that I was strong and that I could do anything that I set my heart too. She opened up a whole new world to her father. Showing him that the unexpected isn't always bad. She showed my hubby the true meaning of fatherhood and passion. She brought my biological father home from Alaska, and turned his heart from the cold stones of denial to acceptance and devotion. She touched numerous people in countless ways. I could go on for ever. I feel that I was blessed to have this child as my daughter. I long for the future that she will never have. I watch the girls that are the age that she would be today....I miss her with so much of my soul, but I go on. I keep her close and I remember to live, not only for myself, but for my boys.

The pain doesn't go away. Grief grabs your soul and impants it's tendrials so deep that you are force to deal with it in one way or another. The days do get easier as life goes on, but there will be that one day that will knock up off your path and you have to learn how to deal with it. Expect it - embrace it. Because it keeps the memory and that passion that we hold so dear alive.

Sincerely,
Jenn

Julian's story, how SIDS took his life and changed ours on December 6, 2004.

We were blessed with a happy, bouncy, baby boy we named Julian Jamaal Alexander. We first noticed his cry, his soft eyes, the way he smelled, and his beautiful hair. Julian loved to eat and loved to sleep. We nicknamed him fat-fat since he got so big so fast. He had a smile that would light up a room and a coo that just melt your heart. He was a joy to see after a hard day, his giggle made everything okay He motivated us to be better and do more.

The morning of March 24, 2005 changed our lives forever. We woke at 7:33am to find our precious baby lying in bed and what we thought was sleeping. We went to move Julian to find he wasn't breathing. We performed C.P.R., as we were both certified and called 911. The ambulance came and paramedics took our baby. We rushed to the local hospital and upon our arrival a nurse sat us down. She said "I'm sorry, but he is gone" our hearts cracked, tears fell, and emotions went wild. We were taken to a cold, dark room and saw our baby lifeless little body laying there. We took him together in our arms and held him and cried. We were so confused and didn't know what happened, how, and most of all why. Anger set in and so did guiltiness, we blamed ourselves we questioned god and we pointed fingers.

Julian was buried march 29, 2005 his service was beautiful, fit for a little prince. We never noticed how many lives he touched until that day. There were so many people; family, extended family, friends, colleagues, and many others who just wanted to say a last goodbye. We talked about it everyday after his death, in the back of our minds it was always there, but when we received his autopsy report we were speechless. It read: cause of death – sudden infant death syndrome. We became S.I.D.S parents and our angel was a victim of S.I.D.S.

We were aware of S.I.D.S from a close friend of ours whom lost their child years before. But like many we were naive, we though "this couldn't happen to us". We slept with our first child next to us and he survived so there was no doubt in our minds, we assumed Julian would be fine. We were uneducated then to this monster called S.I.D.S, so we started attending meetings and reading more on it. We took action to learn and educate others. We wanted to know what took our baby. We wanted to help others protect their babies. We express our emotions to all that will hear.

In the 1990's the "safe sleep" campaign was going on. We were young then, children ourselves, and didn't know what that was about. Now as adults and parents ourselves we want to reach out to our peers. Many young parents don't know about or even remember the "safe sleep" campaign. We want to get the word out to our generation about S.I.D.S, the correct "room sharing" guidelines, and how they can protect their children.

As young, African American parents, we want to educate other African American families on the rise of S.I.D.S in our ethnic group. Julian will forever live on for we have dedicated ourselves to telling his story, learning more about S.I.D.S, educating others, and succeding in finding a cause to sudden infant death syndrome.

Jonathan and Bridgette Alexander,
Parents of Julian Jamaal Alexander

Simon's Story

It is now almost exactly 6 weeks since the death of our first born son, Simon. I've wanted to sit down and write this story out before, but until now, I haven't been inspired too actually put it on paper. It now feels like the right time to put it to words for others to read and understand our experiences. It is my hope that Simon's story helps others understand the uniqueness of this type of loss and the personal challenges of parents who loose a child via Sudden Unexplained Death of an Infant (SUDI) also known as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) and the resulting moments and days that follow, ever so slowly and sadly.

Simon Jeffrey Hunsberger was born on a Monday evening (about 9:38 PM) on May 16th, 2005 at Copley Hospital in Morrisville, VT. He wasn't actually due until the 7th of June, but he decided it was time to make his entrance into the world sooner rather than later. Michelle and I had actually been visiting her mother Paulette and her partner, Bob in Scarborough ME for the weekend. Sunday morning at 11 AM was to be Michelle's baby shower at their home.

I was in a very deep sleep, although, I remember Michelle getting out of bed and quietly leaving the room and going to the bathroom – I also remember her coming back to bed a few minutes later. After another few moments, she was up and out of the room again. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, the bedroom door swung open wide and the overhead light flashed on. "Jeff!" She yelled. As I was startled awake, Michelle was approaching me in bed and she took a hold of my left arm as she said, "I think my water broke…!" forcing my hand into the crotch of her pajama bottoms that were wet. As I sat up startled and a bit stunned, she turned on her heal and rushed into her mother's bedroom and did the same thing to Paulette. I fumbled around for my watch….3 AM on the dot. Michelle came back to the doorway of the bedroom and said, "What should I do, I think it my water broke?" "Have you had any contractions or any cramping?" I asked as calmly as I could – still adjusting my eyes to the light. "No…!" she replied. "Then come back to bed and we'll deal with it later in the morning" I said as I fell back into the warmth of the bed with a thud. By this time, Paulette was up and out of bed and a nervousness began to stir among us all. Michelle ended up calling the Birthing Center at Copley Hospital in Vermont for advise and they, in turn called her Dr. and Mid-Wife (one-in-the-same thankfully!). After a short chat between Michelle and the Dr., it was decided that we would go to Maine Medical Emergence Dept. to have her checked out just to be on the safe side. We were on our way to Portland, Maine at 4 AM and arrived at the ED by about 4:15 AM. After the usual check-in, we were met by a nurse from the Maine Med. Birthing Unit and taken to an empty room where Michelle was checked over, placed on a monitor and tested. Yes, it was determined, her water did break and after conversations with the attending Resident and our Dr. in Vermont, it was determined that we could travel back to Vermont right away and meet our Dr. as soon as possible. Nervous, anxious, and excited – we headed back to Paulette and Bob's to gather our things and off we were by 6:50 AM.

I could recite the names and locations of the hospitals along the route home – I don't really know why I could do this – but I knew just where each one was - one in North Conway and Littleton, NH, then Northern Vermont Medical Center in St. Jay, then Copley in Morrisville. I drove fast – I think secretly wanting to get pulled over just to say that my wife was pregnant and her water broke and I was rushing her to our hospital. But, I never got stopped and we made great time, I think 3 hours and 10 minutes. After we were given a room in the Copley Birthing Center and taking a much needed one hour nap, our Dr. visited and did some tests. Michelle was still not having any contractions at all. It was decided that if she did not start having contractions in the next 12 hours, we would stay home and get a good nights rest. Arrangements were made for us to come in the next morning (Monday the 16th) at 7:30 AM. The plan was for Michelle to be induced first thing in the morning. So, home we went to relax and settle down for the night. Michelle participated in the baby shower via a short cell phone call from the hospital room at Copley. Paulette decided to hold it anyway (which I was urging her to do) because calling everyone would have been difficult on such short notice – plus there was a lot of food prepared and lots or family and friends planning on this as a reunion as well. Michelle and I could here the buzz of laughter and excitement in all who were there, and although we could not be with them, we felt the positive energy and excitement and we were both really happy.

Simon entered this world quietly and early. Michelle and I both laughed when he was delivered and placed on her chest. So small, bruised and his poor miss-shapened head - from the trip through the birth canal, he was OK, and after a little help with some deep suction, he began crying and we knew all was going to be OK. He was 6 lbs. 1 oz, and 21 inches long and beautiful!

We were new parents – although we were both older parents (39 & 40 years old). Simon was conceived without any fertility help and for the most part, completely naturally. We were proud and scared with this new little person. We had the trials of Simon being jaundice and two subsequent hospitalizations – just to have him placed under the "lights" to get his Billy Rubin levels down. The hospital staff kept telling us to keep him in sunlight as much as possible, but there wasn't much – the weather was cool, rainy, and grey for the next couple of weeks. Everything else went pretty well. Nursing was a challenge for Michelle, but with some great support and our mutual desire for Michelle to continue breast feeding – the whole process was soon working well. By Simon's Dr. visit in mid-August, he was 23 inches and 13 lbs. He was healthy, happy, and an absolute joy. He went through a gassy, maybe mildly colicky spell that seemed to disappear just before Michelle and I were about to have a mild crack in our patience. Simon had had his first round of immunizations – not without him becoming very upset, he seemed to sleep a bit more for the next day or so but by the end of the following day, he was back to his normal self.

By mid-August, Michelle was helping transition Simon into his day care. We felt really lucky to have gotten two days at the Children's Garden in Morrisville. Simon and Michelle had about four visits and he was just about to begin staying on his own in the infant room. The other two days of child care would be at Michelle's work place at the Lamoille Family Center – and the fifth day, Michelle could have him with her while she worked. We were getting Simon used to taking a bottle in addition to breast feeding and Michelle was pumping a lot to freeze enough milk for the days in day care or in the event that she want to go do something and I needed to feed him. He had done well with the first several bottles I had given him so far.

Friday, early in the morning, Michelle woke me up to tell me she had a real sharp pain in her right breast and that there was a lump in her breast as well. After consulting her Dr., the next morning, she was told it was mastitis and could be treated by putting hot compresses on her breast and to continue nursing on it - but it was still very painful. By Saturday morning, it was sore enough for her to call the birthing center at Copley and she was called back by the on-call Dr. It was decided that she would be put on antibiotics and she was advised to take Tylenol for pain as needed. She was to continue to nurse on the sore breast as usual. We picked up the prescription that morning in Morrisville.

On Saturday evening, August 20th – Paulette and Bob arrived at our home in Eden Mills. Paulette, Michelle and Simon were planning a special time celebrating the birthday of Michelle's younger brother Jeffrey – who was tragically killed by a drunk driver in an automobile accident fifteen years ago come Sept. 8th, 2005. August 23 is his birthday.

Sunday the 21st was a nice day, Bob and I cut the grass and we had invited a neighbor over for a cook-out. We had a great dinner and because I was working most of the day, I didn't get to spend much time with Simon like I usually did. Besides, his Graham was visiting and I always felt she should get as much time with him when she visited since they did not exactly live close by. Our dinner guest departed around 8 PM and we cleaned up and relaxed for the rest of the evening. At some point Paulette took Simon up to his room to change him and put on his PJ's . From downstairs, Michelle, Bob and I heard Simon laughing; I mean a real belly laugh! In seconds we were all in the room with him and we were all laughing together. What a sight to see him jiggling all over with laughter and delight. Later, Michelle put in a DVD of Norah Jones and we all sat down to watch it. By 9:30, I felt tired and having to work in the morning, I said goodnight to everyone. I kissed Michelle goodnight and instead of kissing Simon – who was nursing – I said, "Goodnight baby, I'll see you up-stairs in a little bit." And with that, I was off to bed. Michelle and Simon, apparently came to bed around 11 PM – she had nursed him one last time on the sore breast before coming to bed – thinking that when he woke to nurse during the night, she could simply roll over and nurse him on the left breast without waking me up and feeling the pain in the sore breast until later in the morning. So, with that thought, she lay down in bed next to me and put Simon between her and the baby's co-sleeper. I never heard her come to bed that night. Even with the soft glow of the nightlight – that always annoyed me – and with the baby, I never woke up.

The room was dark except for the glow of the night light, the door to the deck was open and the screen door allowed the cool summer air in without any bugs. The box fan was on medium pulling air into the room through the screen door. We had a sheet, fleece blanket, and quilt on the bed that night. I woke up sometime between 3 and 4 AM - I think, I don't always take a good look at the clock at that time of the morning – I remember getting up, moving the box fan into the room and out of the doorway, letting one of the cats in from the deck, and then closing the door and the curtains. I then walked around the bottom of the bed and looked at the baby. Michelle was on her side facing where I was sleeping – Simon was on his back with his right fist up by his right ear and his left arm along his left side. He looked very peaceful and content. I remember pushing back the pillows that were at the top of the bed and thinking that he was really quiet tonight. I didn't touch him, but left and went to the bathroom and came back to bed. Now - usually I would touch him, just to see if he was OK – I did that the night before and he woke up right away and needed to have Michelle wake up to nurse – so I thought I'd leave him be and let him and Michelle sleep, besides, he had slept through one full night already and slept for several hours in a row usually at night.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off and I remember hitting the snooze button a couple of times. I got up at about 5:50 AM – gathered my clothes from the night before and walked around the bottom of the bed. That's when the panic hit me. Both Simon and Michelle were in the exact same position as they were earlier when I got up to use the bathroom. I reached over to touch him and gently shook his little belly, "hey baby, good morning…" he didn't move or make a sound – and he always did that with me in the morning. Again, now even more panicked, I tossed down my clothing on the floor and with both hands I took a hold of his little body, "Baby, Baby wake up, are you OK…?" Still nothing. I picked up his left arm – it was limp and his hand was cool. "OH my god, Michelle, he's not responsive!" I yelled as I stepped over and turned on the rooms overhead light. When I looked back, Michelle had picked him up, there was a blood stain on her night shirt shoulder, "He's dead!" she said rather matter-of-factly - with a tone of shock in her voice, and then she laid him back down on the bed gently. As I took in the scene, I noticed a droplet of blood on his upper lip, he was ridged, his eyes were not quite all the way closed, his skin color was not pink but a yellowish-tan with a what I though was a greenish tint, he looked so peaceful – in his bright green footsie PJ's. The moment was surreal – time had stopped – I had thought after thought flashing through my mind – how could he be dead? Oh no! Not me and my baby? This can't be happening to me! I'm a good parent! I have done everything I was supposed to do! He slept on his back! He wasn't overdressed! I worked for Child Protective Services as a Supervisor for six years – this can't be happening to me. I run a Department of Public Health office now and my office responds to these things, I'm not supposed to be the one this happens too! Oh my God…..I picked up Simon's lifeless body, "Baby, baby, oh baby boy…what's happened!" I yelled as I held him out in front of me stepping back and forth between the two upstairs bedrooms. Michelle yelled she was calling 911 – and then I heard her tell Paulette, "I think Simon's dead!" and a soft yell then followed. The next thing I remember was laying Simon on the bed and Michelle was handing me the portable phone with the dispatcher on it telling me how to do CPR. "Lay the baby on a flat firm surface and gently tilt his head back to open an airway…" I was confused…the bed was too soft and I could not get an airway…his tongue seemed to be up against the roof of his mouth…I think I told the dispatcher that I thought he was already gone…but it's all really just a blur. I then decided to take him down to the dinning table and got started doing CPR there. I don't remember how long I did it but it seemed like ages. I knew he was not breathing, I knew he was already dead, but I couldn't do "nothing." Eventually the First Responder arrived and he placed an air bag over Simon's mouth and nose giving the baby breaths as I did the five consecutive chest compressions. When the second Responder arrived, I remember telling her to take over. Someone had placed sticky pads on Simon's chest to hook him up to a monitor – I don't even remember who did that. As I got up from the table, I stepped into the laundry and put on a shirt, got some socks and it seemed as if by the time I stepped back out they were taking Simon out of the house and into the ambulance. I thought that maybe one of us (Michelle or me) should go with them but for some reason I didn't say anything or ask. There was a woman who was in the house who introduced herself as Dale – she was, I think the second person to arrive but I noticed she stood in the kitchen area as the paramedics were working with me doing CPR. She was from the Medical Examiners office. She gave us some instructions and asked us to show her where we had been sleeping. We walked through the awful events for her in the bedroom – the set up, who was sleeping where – all the details. Eventually, we were back downstairs and she told us it was time to go to the hospital. I'm not sure if she asked to stay at the house or she said she would wait for the State Trooper to arrive and then she would meet us at Copley Hospital. We were told that there would be an investigation and why, which I already knew would take place, she and asked me if I could drive – I remember saying, "Yes, at least I can control that!" The four of us loaded into the Honda and drove to Morrisville. As we pulled out of the driveway I remember making a statement…maybe Michelle said something like how could this happen? I responded, "...He asphyxiated, he had to, how else could this have happened?" There were no other words spoken in the car. The drive was an endless 20 minutes.

Parking just outside the ED, we all quietly walked into the main door. I didn't stop at the desk, but Michelle did. I kept walking to the ED area nurses station where I was met by Dr. Page. By that time Michelle had caught up with me. As he approached he determined that we were Simon's parents and he began say something like, "I think you know what I'm going to tell you, he's gone, I think it's been some time – it might have happened really early in the morning. I did an exam and there is nothing apparently wrong – no injuries or bruises……" by that time I was in tears, all the shock and numbness became amplified. I don't remember what else he said to us…but we were told we could see him and we were shown into an ED room where Simon lay on a big bed. A Chaplin introduced herself to us, and we met a nurse in the room but I don't remember her at all. He was swaddled in a white blanket so sweetly. He was cleaned up and looked a little better than when he was taken out of the house. His face looked very peaceful and calm. Michelle took hold of him first, crying and wrapping over him. We all took turns holding him, someone went out and dragged in a rocking chair, we were asked questions about contacting family and handed phones, Michelle called the Family Center first and got Dave Connor – she asked about baptism, and I said, "What's the point!" Apparently Dave said the same thing. I could not reach any of my family on my cell phone and I didn't have any phone numbers with me. Eventually, I held Simon for the last time. Sitting on the bed with him and gently rocking with him in my arms, tears of pain and sadness streaming down my face. I took in all I could of him in that moment. As I got up to leave the room, I could not put him down on the bed, I had to hand him to the Nurse and I fell out of the room into the ED in tears with Michelle on my heels. I stood in a corner of the hall and cried, Michelle trying to comfort me all the while – a few minutes later we were lead to a private family room where we made more calls and cried. Our Dr. arrived and she hugged Michelle and comforted her…I don't remember her saying anything to me. Michelle kept asking, "Did I do this, is this my fault?" And everyone kept saying, "No, no, it's not your fault!" I kept thinking - how could we have allowed this to happen to our sweet baby boy? Why couldn't I have woken up and saved him? How did this happen? We were interviewed by a young Vermont State Trooper Detective, separately, in the family room of the hospital – he recorded our conversation and took notes. The Chaplin stayed in the room with us as well – although I never asked for her to do so – maybe its part of the process. When he was done talking with Michelle, Dale from the Medical Examiners Office came out and gave us more instructions, the autopsy information, phone numbers, and funeral home name and number and told us that the police would be coming to the house to meet with us etc. We left the hospital….I have no idea what time. I gave the car keys to Bob to drive and Michelle and I sat in the back seat of the car. Not a word was spoken with the exception of a few directions from me to Bob. When I left the house to go into Morrisville I grabbed Simon's favorite pacifier and stuffed it into my jeans pocket – wishful thinking I guess as I look back now. I thought about taking the car seat, but I never went to get it before we left.

Arriving at home, we were greeted by a Vermont State Trooper in uniform and in his cruiser. He was well hidden from the main road behind some trees and a stone wall in our driveway – in the shade. We parked and he introduced himself, we all went in. I made some coffee, but didn't really no what to do – I don't think anyone really knew. I chatted with the Trooper at the table and eventually the rest of the law enforcement team arrived. By this time the phone was in constant use. Michelle and I again took the police into or bedroom set it up exactly how it was when I went to bed and when I found Simon in the morning. There was a small blood stain on the bed sheet and the mattress pad where Simon last lay. They took both as evidence. After we answered their questions, they began to talk among themselves and take photos. We asked if we could go back downstairs and they agreed. I was just getting off the phone when I noticed all the police people leaving the house – I had been talking to a family member and was standing by myself in the garage and said goodbye and walked out into the main area of the house, and they were out the door.

It was a steady stream of people after that, with food, tears, hugs, recounting the awful events both at home and in the hospital – calls. We set up a little memorial area with Simon's photos, pacifier, hat, candles and mementos. I experienced a strange closeness with people I had never met as we all talked about Simon over the next days and weeks. Bouts of tears – of mine and others were normal. Calls from relatives, family, friends, co-workers, agency staff, the funeral home, a follow-up call from the Trooper, we tried to keep track as best we could of the calls, food, flowers, and cards.

On Tuesday about 10:30 AM, Michelle and I called the Medical Examiners Office to get results of the autopsy. We spoke with Dr. Shapiro – the autopsy was done at Fletcher Allen Health Center in Burlington, VT. Both Michelle and I had a portable phone and spoke with him. I recall grabbing a pen and paper to take into the bedroom with us to take notes – but the only thing I wrote down was the word "nothing." The Dr. told us he had found nothing, Simon's heart was fine, he died of asphyxiation, but there was no way to determine how that might have occurred. We talked about SIDS and how he and his colleagues were getting away from using that term, that there could be several "possibilities" to explain how Simon died. We talked about re-breathing under the covers of the bed, something covering his face – blankets? He had no firm conclusions. He then spoke of how most SIDS type deaths in Vermont were related to "unsafe sleeping conditions" like blankets or laundry falling on top of the baby's face, or sleeping on a couch, or a bean-bag chair etc. Although he did not specifically say Simon's death was a result of an unsafe sleeping situation. Michelle than asked very bluntly if she "killed" him, maybe by rolling onto him or the medication she was on? The Dr. said "no" that she would have felt him move or heard him cry out if she rolled onto him and the medication would not have caused this. Nor was the death a result of his immunizations. He said it happened quickly and Simon would not have made much if any sound at all. They don't really know how babies die or if SIDS is really caused by a problem with the brain stem development or not. He told us that he sent out blood and tissue samples and would have the results back in three to five weeks. But he also said that he is almost positive they will show nothing as well. His death certificate now reads cause of death as "Pending" and will, after the completion of the medical examiners office tests and report most likely will read "Unknown" as a cause of death.

Meanwhile, we are left with an empty pack-in-play, empty car seats, unused diapers, and wipes that will no longer be used for Simon, our beautiful baby boy of 99 days full of joyful life and love. So much clothing for our little guy was never worn, toys never played with – blankets with his sweet baby smell still on them are our cherished possessions of his actual existence. Slowly, I put away his things, a little here and a little there. Always checking with Michelle to see if she's OK with me putting them away - sometimes she isn't and sometimes I'm not ready. It really is a challenge to accept the death of your one and only child, especially when he is so very young – just 3.5 months old in Simon's case. We have learned so much more about love in these past six weeks than we could have ever imagined. How much there is for all of us, how much you can love a baby for only 99 days, how loved we all are, especially Simon - by friends, the community, medical personnel, co-workers and even strangers. Most importantly, how much Michelle and I love each other and although we grieve differently and some times see things somewhat differently, we love and care for each other more than anything. We are not without our issues, but our love will support us always. Simon is still very much with us – we know and feel his love and spirit all the time. We shared him with our world and our community, and we all greave his passing as a community and individually. He has showed us all what pure love can do – its power and its pain. But a world without Simon in our arms is very difficult – we know his radiant Soul passes by us each and every day – his star shines down every night and his love and energy floods into us every time we remember or think of him. He is not dead - but in a place just beyond our understanding, laying on our shoulders and sitting on our laps, held in our arms and belly laughing the entire time. May God bless your little sweet soul, we love you baby boy…….your loving and adoring parents.

Jeffrey Alan Hunsberger
Simon's Proud Father