On a warm winter’s evening, just after the festivities of the Christmas holidays, our joy turn to sadness when our beautiful baby George left our side for no reason.  Our little miracle defied all the odds, he fort so hard to be with us every step of the way, he was just so perfect. SIDS changed our lives that day for ever, things would never be the same again. We are now forced to rebuild a new normal, each day we are left wondering how we can survive to the end of that day without him.  Only the memory of his last smile allows our world to keep turning.

We however found some help and comfort, when we most needed it. It was from one of the leaflets that was handed to us while we sat in the hospital bereavement suite, still comatose from the event. It was from a support group within the local area. When I finally plucked up the courage, I phoned it, not knowing what to say, just dialling the number felt like a strain, as I pressed each key on the touch-pad, words flew in and out of my head as I tried in vain to think of what to say, I was longing for the strength just to make the call and more so, not to break down while talking.

I think it was the third of fourth attempt when I finally plucked up the courage to talked to the recorded message, but within the day, if not the hour, we had a call back from Michelle at the Snowdrop Centre, she arranged a meeting, where she got to know us. It seemed to help us talk to someone who was not directly involved but would help us find our path through our darkest of times. 


At times, I wish it was as simple as taking the blue pill and falling back into the looking glass, waiting for the story to come to a end before once again waking up in your bed, believing whatever you want to believe. But life gave us no choice, we had the red and would stay in Wonderland, and be shown how deep the rabbit hole goes. We have been made to be aware of the true nature of life. 

There is no magical cure and nothing that makes the pain go away, but an empty void, a hole in the fabric of time, where a fathers love for his child once lived. I often find signs when I least expect them, it maybe a little white feather dancing in the sunlight, a butterfly on a cold winters day or even a ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds, warming the breeze before it caress my face, like a kiss from my baby angel.

Some mornings we still find it impossible to lift our heads from the pillow or even close our eyes at night, but day by day we do find the strength to carry on, never forgetting, just loving the short time we had together. 

You don't die from a broken heart, you only wish you did