Helmet Babies

I just left my therapist's office.  I think I mentioned that her office is located in my yoga studio.  As I was leaving, I ran into a woman who was early for the mommy and me class that starts there at 12:30.  She had a little sleeping baby with her in a baby carrier.  He was probably about 7 months old and wearing a helmet, like Max had.  I wanted so badly to tell her, "My baby wore a Doc Band too!".  But, of course I can't.  She would then probably ask me how my baby is doing now and I would have to say that my baby died.  I can't bond with the Doc Band mommies anymore over the cutest little babies in helmets.  Of course, just seeing the little guy made my heart hurt.  It would have hurt even if he wasn't wearing a helmet, but, the helmet adds a layer of pain.  Here are some photos of Maxie's helmet before Teddy made it extra awesome with craftiness.  It was even cute when it was just plan white.  Max wasn't even three months old yet when he got his helmet.  He couldn't even sit up by himself. 

He has that "What you talkin about Willis" face on again in the photo above.  I want to mash my face into the photo and nibble on his cheeks.

This photo must have been taken after it really settled in that he to keep wearing this thing.  He looks sad :(  Poor Maxie. 

I am able to see from the back end of this blog what search words people are using to find Maxie's blog.  Usually people search Max Leviss or Maxwell Judah Leviss or Maxie blog or some combination.  Sometimes they are searching for SIDS + Blog.  I know I must have typed in SIDS + Blog a thousand times before I started to finally find the blogs of people who are going through the painful experience that I am.  Sometimes people are typing DOC Band....and that makes me extra sad.  They have probably just been told that their baby has to wear a little helmet and they are scared or nervous (I know I was), and then they get my blog and it probably makes them even more nervous.  I was actually told that the helmet would help prevent SIDS because it would ensure a safe breathing space between Maxies face and a mattress (or blanket or boppy or anything else that shouldn't have been in the crib with him).  To those parents I would just say, Maxie was long out of his helmet by the time he stopped breathing at daycare.  I don't want them to worry.  Max (and our whole family) was part of the miserably unlucky less than 1% of children who die of SIDS and it is unrelated to the helmet or anything else.  We were just not blessed the way we should have been with a baby with a long, long life. 

I miss you little Maxie.  I miss you more every single day and for different reasons every day.  Today I miss you in your helmet phase.  I miss how it framed your perfect little face and gave you a little edge.  I miss how it perfectly rounded out your little head.  I miss how tiny it was and how it brought us so much closer to you and gave us more reason to love and adore you (like we needed any more reasons).  I miss every thing about you monkey.  Today and every single day....I love you Max.

5 comments

Amy R said...

Seeing those pictures makes my heart and stomach hurt. I am so sorry, Abby. Over and over and over again.

Eowyn said...

Even though he does look sad I love that second picture - so expressive! There are no words for how wrong it is that you have to live this life without him!

Katie (LukeGrantsMom) said...

I just love his little face! He could totally pull off the helmet look. It makes me smile just to look at him (thanks for sharing those photos).

Anna said...

I am one of those people who typed in sids + doc band and came here. I just wanted to say thank you for speaking so candidly to all of us silent searchers. Reading your blog now, my heart breaks for you and your family. I'll hold the memory of Maxie in my heart today. ❤

Radar Scabilloni said...

I am one of the mothers that searched cranial band and SIDS. I am so heartbroken for you as I read this. What a joy he was and I hope his light and love will continue to shine in you on your darkest days.