Five months

My dear Maxie,

Five months have passed without you, and I don't know where they've gone. Five months is the length of time I had you with me. It seems like such a long time since I held you, but on the other hand the days have passed in quick succession with little to differentiate one from the next. Your mummy does not feel like her life has much meaning without you. On good days I try to think of some things I'd like to do, things that will make me feel like me again, but I can't seem to muster the enthusiasm to follow them through. I say to myself 'but what does it matter? That thing is meaningless. What is the point in striving to achieve anything when it can all be taken away in an instant'? And that's what I think on a good day!

Your room is still here for you, just as it was. It's so empty and cold, though. Sebastian, your new little kitten, likes to play in there though. He likes to chase drinking straws around and chase his own tail and he loves that there's lots of space in there for him to run about. He is giving mummy and daddy so much love and we wish you could be here so he could lick your little face as well as ours. I think he would have been a great companion to you, and of course Peppy misses you too. He was going to take advantage of all the time I would spend on the couch feeding you and putting you to sleep.

I still cry for you, in heaving sobs. They come from so deep a place that my whole body seems to drown under their weight when they come. Sometimes I feel them there under the surface all the time, and I have to fight to keep them back. Other times, like last night, they come out of nowhere while I'm watching TV and your poor daddy is left wondering what on earth happened. We were watching my favourite show last night, 30 Rock, and Liz Lemon and her boyfriend decide they'd both like to adopt a baby. It's supposed to be a comedy, and it was far from an emotional moment on the show, but all of a sudden I started crying when I remembered how excited I was when we first decided we wanted to bring a baby into the world.

I wish more people talked to me about you. The truth is, the times when your name is mentioned to me are few and far between. I guess it is hard, as no one really knew anything about you, so what can they say? It's not like they can say 'Max would have liked this' or 'Max would have done that'. You were imaginary to most of the world, except your mummy, daddy and Aunty Kate who all were blessed to know how very real you were.

Your daddy and I would dearly love to have another baby - a brother or sister for you - but we are so scared. We don't want you to think that we could ever replace you, and we are worried that everyone will think we are 'over' you, or 'better' because we dare to hope. I am so sensitive to other people's reactions to you, and to me. I know it doesn't matter what others think, as you and I know the truth that you will be forever my son, and always with me, but it pains me nonetheless to think they can have an opinion on something they know nothing about. In many ways, I dread the excitement that would accompany news of another baby as I would feel it was offensive to you and your memory. But at the same time I want to be able to feel excited, to feel hopeful. Deep down I believe that is what you would want me to do, and that you would want me to share the deep love I have for you with another little baby who needs it too.

Mostly I am scared that I will not be able to keep a new baby safe, as I was not able to protect you from a fate you did not deserve or expect. I know it was not my fault that you died - that I would have done anything to make it stop - but I still carry so much guilt and regret. I don't trust my body to do the right thing. I don't trust myself to know when something is wrong and to act upon it. I don't think I trust that I deserve to be a mother.

But lots of people have told me I am a good mummy to you. I try so hard to do things for you even though you are not here. Did you know that your mum and dad, and their friends and family, raised $5000 for the doctors at the hospital where you were born so they can help babies like you? You don't know much about money, I know, but $5000 is five times the amount we had expected to raise. We feel so proud we can do something in your name that would make a difference to the world that you were a part of, if only for a short time.

Your mum has also been talking to lots of other mummies whose babies have died. It has been so helpful to know that they understand what we are going through. And it seems like most of them understand how we feel. I write on this blog, and in other places, about how I feel all the time. The other mummies have told me that I am able to express all of their pain and feelings and fears in ways they sometimes cannot. It is scary to open yourself up and tell the world your innermost thoughts and feelings, but I hope you are proud of me for taking that risk so that other people might better understand what it is like when a perfect little boy like you dies for no good reason.

There's no good reason why you are not here with me, darling. I wish there were. Though what would be a 'good' reason for your death? I guess there is no such thing.

Though I still wonder where you are, and about what it means to die, the quest for the answer is not causing me as much distress as it did a few months ago when I was turning every which way trying to find someone who could tell me the definitive 'truth' or the matter.  I guess I've come to terms with the fact that there are things I will never understand, although I secretly hate this so much. I wish you could just come to me and tell me somehow all the secrets of the universe. But I know you don't have any more control over where you went than I do over the fact I had to let you go. Most days I settle for the realisation that you are all around me, in everything I do and every thought I have. Your essence is within me, not in an imaginary heaven. I can't think of a more fitting place for you to rest except in your mummy's every thought, feeling and breath.

I miss you so much my precious baby. I just miss you so very much.

I love you forever.

Your mummy xox

PS. Here is a picture of you and me. It is so precious to me to see you in my arms.