It's been far to long that I've written. Far to long that I faced what I was feeling. Since my last post I have not only started school again, but met some people I have no doubt will help me in my journey. I feel so lucky, and pardon the quote, blessed to have the friends I do in my life. I truely can not picture my life without the support system, new and proven.
Two days ago we received papers sent to us from a grief support in Chicago that we receive every big holiday or upcoming event. For me I put off reading the material and letter untill I "feel" prepared to sacrifice any further productivity, as it leaves me a crying and emotional mess.
This time it was the papers I've feared the most since a death certificate. "Upon the aniversary of your child's death".
Really just the words alone make me want to vomit. The images that simple phrase conjures can only be described as life altering, breath stopping, and eviserating.
Only two people here on earth could know the pain I speak of, me and my husband. The only two people present the night our son left this earth.
I'm sure 10 nurses at least, all the extra support personnel involved in Aidan's "resuscitation" think they know what they where a part of, they don't. The images I have of them fail to meet the standards I think of when I think of when i think of my colleges who offered a second chance at life in the SICU at the University of Utah.
The night Aidan left us will be forever scorched in my memory. I started pleading, as chest compressions seemed desperate, both with a higher power and the medical staff working on my best friend, my every living breath. I knew the scene I'd been a part of so many times at work, the scene only acted out on T.V. And movies would be made right. Instead, the fellow, the man "in charge" who i'd questioned so many times, came to us and offered nothing but "I'm sorry, please, lets go to another room, we've exhausted all our resources."
Really, let's go to another room? You ask me to leave my child? At this point of irrevocable care? You must be reaching for a sanity that escapes you.
I offered any solution I could think of. Looking back, I know I offered everything from an LVAD/RVAD OPTION TO my own heart and lungs. However rash it was, the lengths I'd go to in the moment the medical team gives up on your child, I was willing to exhaust.
Obviously we all know the outcome of that night.
Ryan and I went back to a quiet apartment without one of the two people we dedicated our entire lives to. Without the little man who literally sealed us together, who literally offered a chance to hope, and without our family intact.
I was so scared and so absolutely in denial all I could do is pray and hope I'd wake up and have it all be a dream.
We arrived home in SLC to a house full of love and support.
Never in my life have I felt actual emotion, love and support, as I did the night arrived home. Our friends and family offered so much love and compassion with all of the floral arrangements and supplies they left, it took my breath away. The horrible thoughts I had of comming home to a life with out Aidan were buffered by the support we received that night. I don't know any other way we could have survived that homecoming.
I've read time and time again how the anniversary of a childs death is often more of a build up then actually surviving the day. I myself will only relive the events I experianced that fatefull day, February 9th, 20011. Everything seemed to go against us. Aidan told the doctors outright he hurt and had they have listened, they would've seen what we saw, something wasn't right.
Something was off since he came out of surgery.
I was taught the parent is ALWAYS right. The only way a nurse can know if something has changed is when a parent tells them so. Every single complaint we had was ignored and written off.
Regardless, our shining superhero can NEVER be brought back. My best friend, my everything was taken from me in a second, or rather 2 days a medical team refused to listen to a parent who may have saved his life.
All I can ask is, please understand, a bit of a learning curve for myself and my family, we may take a bit longer on the uptake, we may have set backs at the first glance of a picture or even the idea superheroes exist. We know superheroes exists because we've met one, our Aidan did nothing less then inspire every single person he met.
The comming months and years will be painfull and at many points unbearable. The past will rear its head and make life absolutely impossible.
Please try to understand, as these days eneviatbly offer a complete shutdown of verbal and social interactions.
The people who know Aidan know he is in every single happy thought or experience you endure. Aidan knows the best way to make you smile and is quick to offer his Awsome dance moves or a giant smile and hug to make anyone greatful for the time they enjoy here on earth.
All I can do is ask you to keep our amazing little man close to your heart. Every time I see Teagan break it down, every time I see a "superhero act" from a "normal person" I know it's Aidan. I hear my best friend cheer me on when he's proud of me. I can't imagine working so hard for anyone day in and day out as I do for Aidan.
I have complete and blind faith, my superhero guides others, and most importantly, he teaches me EVERY DAY how to be a better person.
I love you Aidan James Hodgson
To Infinity and Beyond
