Until You Fall Asleep

Dear David,

Another woman's baby died yesterday. He was just a month older than you are now (you're two months old today) and he was almost as beautiful as you are. His babysitter let him take a nap on his tummy, and he never woke up.

What do you say to something like that? What do you do in that sort of situation? I can't stand the thought.

Now I've decided that you're not leaving my sight until you're well into your thirties, and possibly married with your own children. I'm screwed, aren't I?

I just want you to be happy, healthy, and safe. This is why only Grandma and Gangi watch you right now; I don't trust anyone else yet! You're too important to me, and I love you too much. I worked too hard to get you here to lose you now. I survived hyperemesis and early back labor and a third degree tear with minor hemorrhaging to bring you into this world, and I'll be damned if anything bad happens to you. I left your father, who was going down a road that could have made it dangerous for you and me to stay with him, so that you would be able to grow up in a good, stable, healthy environment, away from dangers and strangers and drugs and lying.

David, you are the best part of my life. I never thought you would exist, and now here you are. And the thought of something or someone, anything or anyone, taking you away from me, practically ripping you out of  my arms - because you know I would never let you go - just tears me up inside.

And you're too little to know any of this. To you, I'm just the person who feeds you. The person who wipes your butt and puts a clean diaper on you. The person who changes your clothes when they get wet or dirty. The person who rocks you when you're not feeling well. The person who seems to be your favorite thing to sleep on. Like right now. You sleep so soundly, with your face pressed against my shoulder, your fists clenched and one arm wrapped tightly around mine.

To think that your precious little body could one day just not be here for me to hug or hold anymore...

It's worse than the worst thought imaginable. So awful that my mind cannot even comprehend it. Even my normally inventive imagination cannot come up with anything. Your death is an impossibility, in my eyes. Because I am your mother, and I refuse to let you be anything short of safe and happy and perfect, as long as I am alive.

Love, Mommy.