brokenbrainwave
Just draggin around
- Joined
- May 6, 2002
- Posts
- 18,892
The bottom line you are not supposed to bury your babies. This is wrong, and there is not one reason anyone can give that explains the whys.
A good friend of the wifeys has a little boy of 9 whom has a brain tumor. He is in the last moments of his all to short life. No hope, no chance, nothing can be done except to let him die in his own bed. His family will watch their son take his last breath, fighting to hold on, wanting so very bad to survive. His mom and dad are in a state of acceptance knowing their babies pain shall be over soon. His brother understands his playmate, his bedroom buddy, his only sibling will soon no longer be sitting beside him when he watches saturday morning cartoons. His extended family is gathering from across the nation to mourn a passing together, as they should.
When told the news of his rapid downturn I spent the day in a fog simply wanting to grab my own two sons by the necks and hold on for dear life. Knowing all to damn well but for the grace of God, fate, luck, whatever that could be me preparing to bury one of my babies. I've almost lost my oldest once. I've watched him fighting for his every breath. I've known the uncertainty of wondering if I was going to leave the hospital with my child in a blanket or in a tiny casket. My heart breaks for the family for at least I had hope. They have nothing but a broken beaten little boy whom body has betrayed him. Dreaming of one last birthday or christmas knowing there is no chance barring some miracle.
The one thought that permeates my mind as I set here wanting to cry holding my youngest son is you are not supposed to bury your babies. Uh Uh nope no way. Thats as messed up as it gets in life.
A good friend of the wifeys has a little boy of 9 whom has a brain tumor. He is in the last moments of his all to short life. No hope, no chance, nothing can be done except to let him die in his own bed. His family will watch their son take his last breath, fighting to hold on, wanting so very bad to survive. His mom and dad are in a state of acceptance knowing their babies pain shall be over soon. His brother understands his playmate, his bedroom buddy, his only sibling will soon no longer be sitting beside him when he watches saturday morning cartoons. His extended family is gathering from across the nation to mourn a passing together, as they should.
When told the news of his rapid downturn I spent the day in a fog simply wanting to grab my own two sons by the necks and hold on for dear life. Knowing all to damn well but for the grace of God, fate, luck, whatever that could be me preparing to bury one of my babies. I've almost lost my oldest once. I've watched him fighting for his every breath. I've known the uncertainty of wondering if I was going to leave the hospital with my child in a blanket or in a tiny casket. My heart breaks for the family for at least I had hope. They have nothing but a broken beaten little boy whom body has betrayed him. Dreaming of one last birthday or christmas knowing there is no chance barring some miracle.
The one thought that permeates my mind as I set here wanting to cry holding my youngest son is you are not supposed to bury your babies. Uh Uh nope no way. Thats as messed up as it gets in life.