Our voices will not be silenced

Happy 3rd Birthday Son

Happy Birthday Matthew. I can’t believe that it is almost 3 years to the minute since we said goodbye. We barely even got to say Hello. 3 years and it feels like just yesterday. 3 years and it feels like an eternity sometimes as well. Every year, every day is a stark reminder of what we will never get with you. This is your 3^rd Birthday. What will your 13^th or your 30^th be like?

This is not natural son. Mommy and I are not supposed to be celebrating your birthday without you. 3 is that age where kids really start to understand the magic of a Birthday Party. I hope you can see it. We’ve got balloons, decorations, even a Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake picked out just for you. You would love it so much. It’s a really special day this year. Your baby brother Daniel will get to destroy a piece of your Birthday cake.

We’re working on change son. Just this past week we met some of the great people that have helped us to get your story told. Each one of them is a hero of mine in their own right. Yes, because they are fighting to help us make sure this doesn’t happen to other families, but more so because they remember you by name and you are important to them as well. It is that remembrance that keeps you alive.

3 years and still nothing major has changed though son. Sure they’re talking about implementing change, but until that happens, other babies and their mommies are in danger just like you.

Not a day goes by that I don’t ache to hold you once more. That day will come again. But we still have lots of work to do here, okay. I will never stop loving you. I will never stop missing you.

All my love,

 

Daddy

Happy Third Birthday Angel Boy.

Well Matthew. Here we are again. Another year. Another birthday. Another anniversary of your death. And where am I? What have I done in this time? If I were to honestly answer that question, it would be; nothing. I still hurt. I hurt bad. But I haven’t done anything for you. Yes, I have been on the news to tell your story and the dangers of exposure to infants, but the only thing I have seen result in that is the painful comments that were posted that told me how I did it to you and on purpose too. That I should have known better. That I killed you. That I am a horrible mother. Did I help anyone? I don’t know. I have spoken to Interior Health about implementing protocol change in hospitals to newborns exposed to these drugs. But I am still waiting to see something happen. I went to Los Angeles, to the CCHR awards ceremony to meet all the other people who are fighting for their loved ones who have died because of these drugs. To meet others who are doing amazing things for their person. And this has made me realize just how little I’ve been doing. What have I DONE? I am not seeing things happen for you. I am still waiting for Interior Health. I am not seeing your story move or get bigger. I saw in LA that these other people devote more time, money and energy into their cause and I feel as though I am failing you on every level.

It’s as though I am standing on a crevice with a large gaping hole separating the two sides and I am struggling to stay balanced on both sides. On one side are you and Simon. You are gone and I want to be with you. I want to help you. I am depressed and scared. I want to help but don’t know how. I want to change things, but I am not good enough. I as your mother need to be with you and know you are safe. On the other is my living family. I love them so much and enjoy my moments with them. I homeschool them so I know they are safe from labels and lies. To give them the best learning environment. To give them the freedom to learn in their own styles and to follow the things they love. I play with them and cry with them as they are my life. But I feel guilty as well because to give my living children the best that I can, I let you slide. Your cause cannot get my full attention. I get busy and can’t blog or even think about it as it makes me feel so sad and useless that I just want to give up. I am overwhelmed at how much I still have to do and I feel afraid. Afraid because I will fail my children to give myself completely to the cause, or fail you by giving myself completely to my living children. But I fight the best I can. I have to give some to you and more to my children here. They need my right now. And as depressing a thought that it is, when they are grown and no longer need me, you will still be dead and waiting for me. Always. Forever. No matter which way I turn, I face guilt head on. How do I leave it behind and see what I am capable of doing? How do I learn to give more to you and help you to save lives? I no longer want to feel so useless in this fight. But others give so much more than I do. How could I ever accomplish anything even remotely close to what they have? My hero’s. The one’s I look up to. I feel I could never do what they do. I just don’t have the smarts, the time or the finances that they do. Does that mean I am every day failing you? I sometimes think it does. I want the whole world to know you and the reasons behind your death. I want so many others to say, “I won’t let that happen to my children”. I want to know that you died for something bigger than profit. Something more. Something great.

On this 3rd birthday/anniversary of death, I miss you so much. The pain can never be put into words. And I have no doubt, the pain will ever be better. You have left a huge hole in our family with your death. We see it every day and especially today. We are having a birthday party again. We will have cake and balloons. We will talk about you. Sing to you. Tell you we love you. Send off balloons and wish lanterns. We will hope you are looking down on us and enjoying your party the way a 3 year old toddler should. We will be telling Daniel about the brother he never met. The one who saved his life. How important you are and how loved you are. He will love you too. And as the day progresses through to evening, I will be torn between joy and sadness. I will rejoice in your short life that brought me so much happiness. But I will be saddened by your loss and the reasons behind them. I will be constantly wishing I could see what your smile looks like and how your laughter would sound. Feeling emptiness because I never got to feel your precious arms wrap around my neck or the words “I love you mommy”. But in my sadness, your siblings will help fill the hole with hugs and kisses for me from you and to you. In your short life, you have given our family so much. Thank you so much with blessing our lives with you my precious little angel. And I promise to keep doing what I can to fight for you. To continue on with my journey for the truth. And maybe one day, I will feel good that I did enough for you and will feel worthy of your pride in me. I love you more and more every day. Happy third birthday my special little man.