A Bleeding Heart

Nothing makes my heart bleed like the death of a child. It doesn't matter who the child may be, whether I know that child or not. I feel an emotional stab wound to my heart simply because the death of one so young should just not happen. I know that since I've had children, this pain has intensified, and I'm guilty of transferring the grief of the parents to myself, often thinking of how I would feel if it were my children. I have friends from college, who I've recently reconnected with and who are actually, somewhat responsible for the creation of this blog (or at least the idea of it, since they keep one themselves.) They have three children, a boy about Wesley's age, another a little younger than Preston, and an adorable little princess who just happens to have been born with a rare genetic disorder called Williams Sydrome. Now, I'm no Williams Syndrome expert, so I'm not going to pretend to be, but one of the things I do know about the disorder, is that it causes several heart complications and can require much medical attention over the course of the childs life. Little Clare has had open heart surgery and several heart catheterizations, all before she turned two years old. And amongst all the doctor visits, medications, hospital stays, etc., my friends have remained so strong. In fact, I'm often remarking to my friend, Shawn, how I swear his wife, Teresa, is really a superhero (she just doesn't wear the fancy outfit and cape.) Anyway, before you all start thinking that anything happened to there adorable little girl, please let me move on . . . she is fine and in fact, has been doing very well. However, upon checking their blog (which I do every few days) I saw an "In Memory" entry about a little boy, also with Williams Syndrome, who had passed away, not even making it to his first birthday . . . not even making it to his eight month birthday. She added a picture to the short entry and this little baby, Blake, was just beautiful. He had dark hair, and dark penetrating eyes, and was just so tiny. In fact, he seemed just perfect, except for the oxygen cannula attached to his nose. Upon reading this entry, about a little baby I'd never laid eyes on until that moment, my heart burst open in pain. My eyes flooded with tears and even now they are threatening to return. The torture his parents and older brother must be going through, to lose one so young. I can't imagine it and I never want to, but my heart bleeds for them; for these people I do not know. They will most certainly be in my thoughts and prayers, for Whitney (Blake's mom,) for Troy (Blake's dad,) and for Brandon (his older brother.) This is the kind of pain that no one should ever have to endure. And now I'm going to go give my two little angels some extra post-bedtime kisses because you can NEVER say I love you enough.