Joshua
This is the story, as I had mentioned earlier. I feel better writing that out. It's long, and if you don't want to read I understand...
When I was in the 5th grade, I decided I HAD to have another sibling. I didn't care boy/girl whatever, I just wanted to have another baby sibling. I told my mom this, and she said "well see". Haha, the way she sent me on my way, dismissing the idea totally. I remember, I prayed EVER night for a sibling, and I just KNEW that my prayers would be answered.
When I was a junior in high school I went on a trip for spring break with my family. I know, I'm a loser, but whatever, I really wanted to check out a school in Oklahoma that I was interested in (for those of you who don't know I live in Michigan). So, as odd as it sounds, I always just kinda *knew* my mom's period schedule. Her's always came about 2 days before mine, so, obviously if she didn't get it, I would know. I mean, we've always been open about this kind of thing. LoL, whatever, but we're like best friends.
So, I ToTALLY remember starting my period on that trip, and then realizing she wasn't on hers. I asked her about it, and she's all "well, I am starting menopause I guess. I am at that age." She was 43. But EVERYTIME she would go to the bathroom, I'd be outside the door and be all "Did you get your period yet?" and she'd respond "NO, it's menopause" and I'd giggle and say "NO, YOU'RE PREGNANT!!" I even told my cousins (whom we also visited) that she was pregnant. My mom just was like "NO I am not, she's just all wishful, she's just kidding." But yet.... I just knew. I mean, I've just "known" about at least 5 people were pregnant before they told me, or before they even knew, but back to the story.
Well, we got back from that 10 day trip, and still no period from my dear mom. The first morning back from the trip, my mom woke me up bright and early. "Well, I know I am not pregnant, but I figured it'd be safe to take a test anyway, so you can forget about this whole thing." She took it. And, two lines appeared. I remember my dad's reaction like it was yesterday, everyone was shocked, except me, I was ecstatic! Honestly, my number one dream had just come true, and I couldn't believe it.
Basically, from there on, I became the "little" mom. I decided to go to school close to home, so I could be with my new sibling. I decorated the nursery, I painted it, picked out everything for it, made the theme, EVERYTHING the mom does. I went to all her OB/GYN appointments, all that jazz. We found out that the baby was due on December 7th of 2001. It's funny, because that date was the day Pearl Harbor was attacked, so my family called the baby "Pearl" not knowing if it was a boy or a girl.
Joshua Michael Parker was born during my Christmas break of my senior year of high school. It was wonderful, he was wonderful. He was beautiful and perfect. I took him everywhere with me, showed him to everything, and did EVERYTHING for him (except, obviously feeding him). He was so great, and that whole time I had never been happier. Honestly, those were my happiest times.
And then, tragedy struck. Something I will never understand, nor do I ever understand. On April 20th, 2002, my dreams, my life, my everything was taken away. How cruel is it to have your ONE DREAM be given to you only to be taken away?
I was babysitting Joshua. My parents had gone away for the day, I told them they needed to relax because my mom was really stressed with her new role of volunteer work, a baby, and my dad's job was getting pretty crazy. So, they were only gone for a few hours, just dinner and a movie. Joshua had already been fed and everything, and I just laid him down for the rest of the night, or for at least a while. I put him down, I put him in the crib, it was me, my fault.
About 2-3 hours later I went to check on him, relatively surprised that he hadn't gotten up from a dirty diaper. I opened the door, and just felt a little chill. It seemed too still. I still can't shake that feeling. I remember holding my breath, trying to hear the cute little baby noises that he made. It was silent. I went over to his crib. I don't remember walking, I just remember arriving there, standing there, looking at him. The image is still in my brain, it will never leave. He was blue, and so so still. He looked....... looked.... so cold.
I freaked. I don't remember anything else. I called 911, a neighbor and my parents. I know that much. I road with them in the ambulance. I met my parents at the hospital. My brother (14) was staying the night at a friend's house, I don't even know how he heard, or when he heard.
I remember sitting in the cold, cold, hard chair. I remember being told what happened. I remember punching the wall and leaving a dent. I remember seeing my mom and dad cry. I remember the nurse handing me a tissue box. I remember my dad pulling me in. I heard my mom say "I am so sorry". I remember starring at a sign on the wall about fetal stages. I stared so long, NOT focusing on what was going on. I forced myself not to cry, I didn't want to hurt my parents anymore.
It was odd. We went in to the hospital is was raining. When we left, the next morning, it had stopped raining, and the sun was out, there was even a rainbow. I hate rainbows now.
I went to school, I couldn't miss. Even now I don't remember what it was I had to be there for, but, I was so numb, I had to get away.
I dreaded going back home. I couldn't handle it. When I arrived EVERYONE was there, everyone had food and their pitiful excuses "Oh, it's for the better" "his in a better place now" "I understand". FUCK YOU GUYS, you don't understand! IT's not FOR THE BETTER!!! And where is he? HOW can there be a God SO cruel as to give me what I've always wanted, and then just OPPS just kidding! Take it away from me?
I was angry a long time. I'd freak when I saw a child that age. I just wanted the world to end.
I don't even remember crying for a long time.
I don't really remember the funeral. I know I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see him "sleeping" in that little box. I passed out.
I even lost a friend, well, I lost many friends because i was angry and depressed, but I lost ONE friend because she told me "he wasn't REALLY your brother, it's not like you had any deep conversations with him". I nearly decked her. How can people be so understanding.
The only comfort I had was being WITH someone, but without talking. Matthew was wonderful for this.
I then had one wonderful friend named Mike. I don't even know where he is anymore, but, he helped me more than I can ever thank him for. I can't even put to words what he said to me, but, it changed me from then on.
I still get angry, but I have grown, I have changed.
I never will be the same person I was before it happened. I wish I could be, and in some ways I don't. But, in anyrate, it's who I am now, and I must accept it.