Thursday, February 25, 2010

Make every minute count.

I know that I have been lagging on my blog. I am struggling with trying to keep things upbeat. Lots of people read this and I am having a hard time opening up. I don't want to sound like a complainer, or like a huge downer.

But the truth is that my son is gone. I will no longer hold him in my arms. I will never be able to watch him grow up. I will never be able to hear his first words. I am among the few people in this world that has outlived their child.

I did however get to sing to him. He loved it when I sang Amazing Grace. I discovered this in the middle of the night when Brendan was super fussy. I was so tired and I couldn’t think of any other song. So I started singing it and he calmed right down. He took a deep breath after a minute or 2 and fell asleep in my arms. So from that moment on, I kept that in my back pocket to calm him down.

I did get to tell him about how his dad and I met. Let’s be honest, who doesn’t like hearing the story about how their parents met? Brendan was still in the hospital and it was when he was intubated so I wasn’t able to hold him. I held his hand and told him about how we met at church. I told him how it was pretty much love at first sight and how his dad proposed to me 5 months after we met. I talked about the wedding and I told Brendan that his dad and I promised to love each other forever.

I also got to hold my son when he took his last breath. I sang to him and told him that I would love him forever and he would always be my son. I told him that his dad and I would not let this experience ruin our relationship. I promised Brendan that we would stay together and his life and death would make us stronger as a couple.

We fell asleep together on the couch at 4 am on January 23. I knew that he was not doing well and it was only a matter of time. I tried to stay awake as long as possible just talking to him and telling him that I loved him. He was wrapped tight in my arms and I kissed him goodnight and closed my eyes for just a few minutes. I laid him on my chest (his favorite place), and I let my heart beat soothe him to sleep. We feel asleep together. I woke up at 4:30 and listened for Brendan’s breathing and a heartbeat. It wasn’t there. I kissed him, and again told him that I would always love him and that he would always be mine.

I may not have had all the time in the world with him, but I tried to make every moment count.


  1. I've been sitting here reading this over and over again because like Brendan's life, it goes by so quickly and makes me wish there was more. This is beautiful and perfect; sad, but not a downer because your hope still shines through. I love you! Thanks for sharing his last moments with us.

  2. I don't think anything you have to say is a downer or sounds whiney. You are right, the truth is you have suffered a profound loss and the mere fact that you are willing to sit down at your computer and share your loss, your joy, your sorrow, your pain and your memories with the readers means so much more than you could ever imagine!

  3. thank you for sharing this carrie. i sit hear with tears in my eyes not only because of pain and sadness but also because of your strength and unstated encouragement in my life not to take any moment with emma grace for granted. you never have to be sorry for how you are feeling whether it's sad or happy. thank you for sharing your heart, your pain and your hope. thank you for trusting these posts on your blog and allowing me to read them. miss you. sabrina

  4. I love you Carrie. I want to hear ANYTHING you have to say. You write beautifully. You are a beautiful person. I like hearing about Brendan. Please just spill your guts. ♥