I got back from a call and this was the message on facebook from my husband:
"I turned around today and Paiden had rolled up in a blanket on the floor, and was shoving it in his mouth. When you get home all of the small blankets will be in a bag in the attic. I did not throw them away. You can take them down in a year. "
This month sucks. His crib is bare and the only time blankets are used is for tummy time. Flashbacks are in full swing. The fourth month is when babies are clumsily reaching new milestones, like laughing or rolling over. It is also the last month we would share with Perry and not even a full month at that.
As I held Paiden on the fourth I remembered a fourth two years ago with a newborn baby. I remember holding him in the scrapbook/ card making room of the house we were visiting. I remember holding him on the back porch in the shade while Emily swam... I remember someone talking about SIDS with fear. I can still remember holding him in my lap, hands over his ears as the men set off fireworks. The grass was itchy and Emily was sitting next to Violet on her blanket.
How was I to know that my sweet baby had already lived almost a fourth of his life? That time was marching on to an unimaginable time of absence. That I would soon feel emotional pain so raw and heavy that before this I never knew I could feel this bad and yet still somehow survive.
I held Paiden today and was afraid it was the last time I'd see him. I hate all the horrible thoughts like wondering if I dress him in an outfit if it is the last he will wear. I just want Perry back and this nightmare to end.
Meanwhile on babycenter all the Moms are pretty much congratulating themselves on being out of the danger zone because their babies can roll over.
I wish that were me...