Welcome to Nathaniel's page. Please feel free to read and meet our darling son. Although he was with us such a short time, he touched our lives immeasurably.

Nathaniel Lucas Conway

Born: February 17, 2002

Weight: 6 pounds 12 ounces Length: 15 3/4

Journal

Monday, January 9, 2006 7:36 PM CST

The dates are creaping up on me. My son, my sweet son would have been four years old. Where has the time gone? Often I can remember and be happy, and thankful for such a gift. I was given a beautiful, peaceful son that I will forever cherish. Then in the next instant I can't bear the pain and emptiness his death has left. A hole. That is the best way to describe it. There is a hole left in a part of me so deap that I can never repair it. To be honest, I dont' know that I'd want to. I would never turn back time and do anything differently, I would never choose to have never had Nathaniel. I closed my eyes yesterday and all of the sudden it was as if I was transported back in time to the day he died. I could feel the air, this kind of oppressive, palpable blanket hanging over me. A darkness I suppose. I could smell the sweetness his body emitted. He smelled so good. A fresh, new life. I could feel his warmth in my arms again. Then it was gone. Once again, was able to feel how his body loosened and relaxed; as life left him. It feels like yesterday. It was FOUR years ago, and I can remember every intricate detail as if it happened yesterday. I miss him. I miss what he could have been. I miss who he would have been. I wonder what he would have been like. I'm certain he would have been an easy going soul, that everyone loved to be around.

I have such guilt for not visitig his gravesite more; Or as we call it, "Nathaniels spot"; the sugar coated version of what it is. I know it's just where his physical body is, but it's a safe spot to go and remember. Not that it makes a difference really. I remember, every moment of every day I remember. I feel like I should go to him and show to the world that I care. There are so many babies buried there, and I've never seen any visitors. It makes me sad, then I've pulled away as well. I suppose it's a natural progression to have less of a need to go, but never the less, I feel guilty.

The anxiety has returned. I walk with my jaw clenched so much that I don't even notice. I tried to take Caroline to the park a few days ago, and was unable to stay. I had a full on panic attack watching her play on the slide. I was consumed by these horrific visions of something happening to her. I'm not sure why I don't have such horrible fears about the older children, except to think that I still had that naivety that only bad things happened to others. Maybe I just know they are older and have the ability to be careful. Caroline is carefree. That is a trait that makes her who she is, and at the same time I struggle to teach her to be what she is not. I wish she could teach me to enjoy every moment, and not be afraid of what "may" happen. How do you get past the "what if's"? How do you let go? How do you gain back that care free side? I worry about the most obscure things happening; things are are totally unlikely and wholly unpredictable. I worry about everything. I'm not sleeping, haven't in weeks. I'm not able to eat much; although that may not be all bad, except that it makes me even more tired.

This year seems so much more difficult than last; and last year was harder than the year before. Four years. Wow.

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E-mail Author: val_todd92698@comcast.net

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