It’s hard to believe that three years have passed since I held my baby boy for the last time. Three years since I kissed his sweet face. Three years since I grasped his tiny little hand in my palm. I remember that cold, dark Friday very vividly, every detail, every minute. After only a few short hours of sleep, Buddy and I woke to a constant beeping sound coming from Thomas’ breathing machine. I remember asking Buddy several times why it was beeping and every time he answered, “I don’t know Ashlee.” I feared the worst and my mama heart knew something was wrong. The nurse came in and had to increase Thomas’ dependency on the machine, which meant we were moving backwards. Soon after, the doctor came in and sat down on the couch between Buddy and me. I’ll never forget our conversation. She told us Thomas was sicker and she didn’t believe he was going to make it. She told us we needed to make a decision. As hard as it was, we knew what we had to do. We wanted the best for Thomas and didn’t want him to suffer any longer. He was extremely sick with coronavirus, he had multiple blood infections, and his skin was broken down all over his body; even his eyelids were bleeding. It was painful and heart wrenching to see our baby boy so ill. People all over the world were praying for Thomas and he wasn’t getting better, only worse. We begged God to heal Thomas on Earth, but He had other plans. We knew it was time to give our son back to God. Buddy began calling our family members and close friends, I was too emotional to talk to anyone. We had several visitors that day including doctors and nurses that cared for Thomas during our two-month journey at the hospital. Some cried with us and some even prayed with us. My pastor of more than 12 years was one of the first to arrive that day. I didn’t want to leave Thomas’ side but my parents and Buddy insisted that I eat because I had not eaten all day. Our pastor sat with Thomas while we went to the waiting room to eat. Some close friends brought us food from Sonic. I nibbled but was really just too sick to my stomach to eat. After our families had arrived, we all went to Thomas’ room, circled around him and had a time of prayer. Everyone spent some time with Thomas and then left the room except for Buddy, me and the doctor; it was time to say goodbye to our precious son. Trust me, I’m weeping as I write this. Up until this point that Thomas was in the PICU, we had not been able to hold him. To ensure that we both had the opportunity to hold him and spend time with him, we left him on the breathing machine. Once the doctor took him off the ventilator, it was only a matter of a few short minutes that Thomas took his last breath and entered the gates of Heaven. I held my baby so tight and cried hysterically. After Thomas had passed, Buddy and the nurse put an outfit on him and while they were dressing him all I could think about was that I wanted to hold him one more time because I knew I would never get to hold him again. So I did, and as I wept in so much pain, I held him very close. I kept telling Buddy, “I just want to bring him home with me; I just want to bring him home with me.” I know that sounds crazy but that was my baby, my firstborn, my miracle, my long awaited one, my cuddle buddy, my best friend. After the nurse took Thomas away, we gathered all of our belongings that had collected over two months, and we went home.
The details of that day are extremely hard to share, but unfortunately, they’re what keep playing over and over again in my mind, especially today. Last year, on the anniversary of Thomas’ passing, I shared my first letter to Thomas. Today, I’d like to share my second.
The details of that day are extremely hard to share, but unfortunately, they’re what keep playing over and over again in my mind, especially today. Last year, on the anniversary of Thomas’ passing, I shared my first letter to Thomas. Today, I’d like to share my second.
Dear Thomas,
My sweet, sweet baby boy, oh how I miss you so. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t think about you multiple times a day. The past few weeks have been some of the hardest. For Thanksgiving, we took a family vacation to Disney World. Every holiday is difficult without you, but this one was especially. There were moments I would look around at other families and their arms were full. Mine weren’t, you were missing. I didn’t have you to hold during the fireworks, on the rides or in family pictures. I also knew the anniversary of your passing was coming up, and now Christmas is quickly approaching. It’s so hard without you here, not growing up with your little sister. We tell her about you all the time. She can identify any picture of you and says, “Bubba.”
My sweet, sweet baby boy, oh how I miss you so. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t think about you multiple times a day. The past few weeks have been some of the hardest. For Thanksgiving, we took a family vacation to Disney World. Every holiday is difficult without you, but this one was especially. There were moments I would look around at other families and their arms were full. Mine weren’t, you were missing. I didn’t have you to hold during the fireworks, on the rides or in family pictures. I also knew the anniversary of your passing was coming up, and now Christmas is quickly approaching. It’s so hard without you here, not growing up with your little sister. We tell her about you all the time. She can identify any picture of you and says, “Bubba.”
In May, we celebrated your third birthday with family and close friends. At your party, I shared a dream I had about you the night before, it was the first time I had dreamt about you since you passed away. In my dream, we were at church and Daddy and I were picking you up from nursery. You were about three years old. When we walked in, you were climbing on a chair. I picked you up and as you sat on my hip, you were laughing hilariously. You did have ichthyosis and a bald head, but we ran into one of your doctors who had not seen you in several months and he told us he thought you were doing a lot better, you had a long way to go, but doing better! Then I woke up. I had longed to dream about you since you passed away and I thank God so much for that sweet dream!
In September, we attended the Baby Steps Memorial 5K and Fun Run in your memory. Joined by our families and a few close friends, as always, it was a joy to participate. Your sister and cousins had a blast jumping in the bounce house, having their faces painted, playing in bubbles, and cheering on Daddy in the 5K. At the end of the event, there was a balloon release, which is always the most emotional part of the day for me. After Daddy and I released a balloon to you, I took a moment to look around at all the others running in memory of loved ones. There were so many people crying, I truly hurt for them. I knew their pain and it hurt. It made me realize just how much infant loss sucks! I don’t like that word one bit, but that’s exactly how I felt and still do. The next day when I was sitting in church all I could think about is how much I hate sin. Because sin entered this world, there is suffering. I selfishly wish you would have been healthy at birth, and I’m sure many at the Baby Steps Run wished they didn’t have to be there, if only their situation had turned out differently as well. I pray that everyone there knows our Heavenly Father and has the same assurance I have that I will be reunited with you again one day.
In September, we attended the Baby Steps Memorial 5K and Fun Run in your memory. Joined by our families and a few close friends, as always, it was a joy to participate. Your sister and cousins had a blast jumping in the bounce house, having their faces painted, playing in bubbles, and cheering on Daddy in the 5K. At the end of the event, there was a balloon release, which is always the most emotional part of the day for me. After Daddy and I released a balloon to you, I took a moment to look around at all the others running in memory of loved ones. There were so many people crying, I truly hurt for them. I knew their pain and it hurt. It made me realize just how much infant loss sucks! I don’t like that word one bit, but that’s exactly how I felt and still do. The next day when I was sitting in church all I could think about is how much I hate sin. Because sin entered this world, there is suffering. I selfishly wish you would have been healthy at birth, and I’m sure many at the Baby Steps Run wished they didn’t have to be there, if only their situation had turned out differently as well. I pray that everyone there knows our Heavenly Father and has the same assurance I have that I will be reunited with you again one day.
You have received several new friends recently, Nora Jean, Ryan Claire, and Jett Alexander. These sweet babies truly made an impact on many people’s lives, including mine and your Daddy’s. We all grew closer to God as we cried out in prayer for them and their parents. Their mommies and daddies miss them so much. Your Daddy and I wish no one had to experience the loss of a child. After you passed away, we joined several support groups and people poured into our lives and served us and they continue to do so today. We feel it’s time to return the favor. As infant loss seems to be more prevalent right here in our own hometown, your Daddy and I are praying heavily about starting a support group for parents who have experienced infant loss. We’ve been helped and encouraged tremendously through these godsent groups and our prayer is that we may be able to serve and provide support for grieving parents.
Your little sister is now two years old! I can’t even begin to explain the amount of joy she brings to our lives. She truly is the face of God’s grace. The best way to describe Alexandria is through John 16:20, “I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.” I experienced so many dark days after you passed away while the world kept going, but God turned that grief into joy. He placed Alexandria in our lives at the perfect time to help with healing. She really does bring a smile to our faces. I hold her tight each day and thank God for His blessings. We love watching Alexandria grow and develop. We make every effort to spend as much time with her as we can, and plan fun family outings. As much joy as she brings us, it doesn’t even compare to the joy we are going to experience when we enter Heaven.
Thomas, I love and miss you so much! Thank you for making me a mommy, a very proud mommy. I truly do hold onto everything you taught me and try my best not to slip back to my old ways of taking people and time for granted. I realize how precious life is and make every effort to make the most of each day. I love you and can’t wait to be with you again.
Love,
Mommy
This may be the longest post I’ve ever written. If you’re still reading this, you’re very kind. I just wanted to share what was on my heart on this December 5th day, three years after my baby boy went to be with Jesus. I hope the words I’ve written can be an encouragement to those in similar situations. Grief is hard. Unfortunately, it’s something we will all experience at some point in our lives. The pain will ease but never fully heal until that glorious day. When I reflect back on the past three years, perseverance is a common thread. I’d like to close with Romans 5:3-5, “We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.”
Below is a Celebration of Life video of Thomas. We hope you will take a moment to watch it.
Your little sister is now two years old! I can’t even begin to explain the amount of joy she brings to our lives. She truly is the face of God’s grace. The best way to describe Alexandria is through John 16:20, “I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.” I experienced so many dark days after you passed away while the world kept going, but God turned that grief into joy. He placed Alexandria in our lives at the perfect time to help with healing. She really does bring a smile to our faces. I hold her tight each day and thank God for His blessings. We love watching Alexandria grow and develop. We make every effort to spend as much time with her as we can, and plan fun family outings. As much joy as she brings us, it doesn’t even compare to the joy we are going to experience when we enter Heaven.
Thomas, I love and miss you so much! Thank you for making me a mommy, a very proud mommy. I truly do hold onto everything you taught me and try my best not to slip back to my old ways of taking people and time for granted. I realize how precious life is and make every effort to make the most of each day. I love you and can’t wait to be with you again.
Love,
Mommy
This may be the longest post I’ve ever written. If you’re still reading this, you’re very kind. I just wanted to share what was on my heart on this December 5th day, three years after my baby boy went to be with Jesus. I hope the words I’ve written can be an encouragement to those in similar situations. Grief is hard. Unfortunately, it’s something we will all experience at some point in our lives. The pain will ease but never fully heal until that glorious day. When I reflect back on the past three years, perseverance is a common thread. I’d like to close with Romans 5:3-5, “We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.”
Below is a Celebration of Life video of Thomas. We hope you will take a moment to watch it.