Someone once said the best form of therapy is spilling your guts. So, here I go!
It is really hard to believe it has been only a month since Wendy and I lost our son, Aidan. Aidan was delivered stillborn on Sept. 14, 10 days before his scheduled arrival date.
You always hear about horrible stuff like what happened with Aidan happening with other people. Believe me, you never think it could happen to you.
But the last couple of months have taught me a few things about life-one being, never take anything for granted.
Look at me before all of this happened. I was the proud father waiting for the arrival of his latest son, never thinking anything could go wrong. Why would anything go wrong? Wendy and I have two strapping, healthy young boys. Why wouldn't we have one more?
To change directions for a second, I was reading an article in Monday's Daily Sun News about the "Walk to Remember" event held in Grandview this past weekend, which honored babies who never had the chance to live life. I felt so sorry for the father pictured on the front page who lost three of his children. I can't imagine the pain he must feel. I know how I feel with only losing one. The story kind of showed me that you never really forget about the baby you lost, but as parents you must move forward.
The most empty feeling I have experienced in my life so far was the day when we found out Aidan had died. When you go into the room at the hospital as parents and they hook you up to the fetal heart monitor and ultra sound machine and you hear nothing when you should be hearing your baby's heartbeat, that is the most indescribable feeling of emptiness I have ever experienced. You just feel lost as a parent.
Let me backtrack a minute. Wendy and I are two of the biggest procrastinators one will ever see. But for Aidan we were so ready. There is nothing quite like a new baby to brighten one's life. I mean, Wendy and I had this spare room in our house cleaned up, looking spick and span. The crib was up, high chair bought and just about everything else you could imagine in place for his arrival. It is difficult for me even today to go into Aidan's room.
Speaking just for myself, I miss my son. I miss never getting the opportunity to know him more than when he was inside his mother's stomach. I miss with a heavy heart all the moments we will never have.
There are things that I have to work out with the passing of our son, but it has been made a lot easier with help from our friends and family. It is during moments such as this when you find out who your true friends and family are. These are the times when you find out who cares about you and who doesn't. And then there are those people you least suspect who come forward and make your life a little bit easier in ways you least suspect. I would like to thank everyone who made things a little bit easier through all this.
And to my son, I would like to say rest comfortably. You deserve it. I love you very much.
. Mike Kantman can be contacted at (509) 837-4500, or email him at firstname.lastname@example.org