Moses Basket

Today is the 21st of the month, so is today the two month marker since Maxie's death?  Or, is tomorrow, Thursday (the day of the week that he died) the marker?  Both days suck!  Look at my peaceful angel.  The first time I caught him in this position, my love for him quadrupled.  Please!  Is this not the cutest thing ever?  His chubby little cheeks.  The peaceful look on his face.  His bony little elbows.  I want to eat him up.  Max slept in this little basket when he was little.  It was so cute.  We carried him around in it.  We were still staying with my mother for the first week after Max was born (our kitchen was being renovated) and I remember bringing Max in his basket downstairs and putting him on the dining room table while we ate dinner.  The basket sat at the foot of our bed too.  

Now I wonder if it was a "Safe" basket.  No that it matters for Max.  I mean, he managed to stay alive while sleeping in the basket.  But, is the material in it breathable?  Is the mattress in it too soft?   Would the sides be considered bumpers?  It never occurred to me then but I am plagued by these thoughts now.  WHAT DID I DO WRONG?  Is it my fault that my favorite person on earth is gone?  I just want to die thinking about it.  Could the off-gassing from his crib mattress have built up over time and poisoned him?  Aren't all of my friends kids sleeping on similar mattresses?  Last night Ted and I met with our grief counselor and she was telling us about how if you were able to get a peek into everyone's lives around you, you would see tragedy and grief.  Ted and I both told her that 9 weeks ago, you wouldn't have seen either in our lives.  We were both living in our own happy ending.  Now, I am drowning in my own grief.  I am not sure how many times I have heard that god only gives us what we can handle.  Yuck, by the way.  And - I cannot handle this.  My grief is bigger than me.  

I am going to a meeting of the Executive Committee of my Board of Directors today.  It is one hour, I can probably handle that.  The meeting takes place in our presidents law firm's conference room.  I am afraid the receptionist is going to ask me how my baby is.  Should I call ahead and tell her my baby is dead?  The grief counselor suggested acting like I am on the phone and waving to the receptionist as I walked in.  Sounded like a good idea until I realized I have to face her again when I get my parking validated.  Maybe I should just pay for my own parking?  What if I start crying in the meeting?  What if they are uncomfortable with me being there?  My own closest friends are uncomfortable around me.  Nobody knows what to say.  How about, "Max was the most wonderful baby and it is so unfair that you have to live on this earth without him!" (Thanks Bianca, I love when you say that.  Makes me feel validated).  Anyway, it is ONE hour.  I should be able to handle that.  Baby steps (no pun intended). 

My little monkey.  Relaxing in his Moses Basket.  I love everything about you Maxie.

Everything!  I hope you wait for me.  I can't wait to see you again.