A message from mommy I think of you every day and miss you more than words can describe. I know that you are watching over me and silently comforting me when I cry. You are and always will be mommy's little boy; mommy's little angel. I love you, Riley... A Treasure for the King: The wise may bring their learning, The rich may bring their wealth, And some may bring their greatness, And some bring strength and health; We too will bring our treasures To offer to the King: We have no wealth of learning. So, what shall we children bring? We'll bring Him hearts that love Him: We'll bring Him thankful praise, And young souls meekly striving To be with Him for all days: And these shall be the treasures We offer to the King, For these are gifts that even The smallest of us can bring. On Sunday night (March 7th) I put Riley down for the night at about 8:00 p.m. That was his usual bedtime and he wouldn't be up again until about 3:00 a.m. John and I had a pretty rough day with Jasmine because she came down with some 24-hour bug and was vomiting all day long (that started early that morning). So by the time bedtime came, needless to say, John and I were exhausted. My mother came over and picked Jasmine up to stay the night over there since she would have to go there anyway on Monday morning. John and I watched a little television and I checked on Riley at about 11:00 p.m. and he was sound asleep in his crib on his stomach (he would never stay sleeping on his back). We went to sleep and at midnight I heard Riley crying on the baby monitor; it wasn't his usual I'm hungry cry but more "I'm awake so come pick me up!" I turned the monitor off quickly so it wouldn't wake John and I lay back down just to get my bearings as I had just fallen asleep and was drowsy. I woke up suddenly at 3:00 a.m. and thought to myself, "Oh no! I fell asleep!" I made a beeline to Riley's room and as I was walking I remember feeling a little uneasy; not too alarmed but just thinking to myself "Damn, I've never done that before!" I opened his door and turned on his light. When I looked at him he was completely face down with his arms up around his head and the blanket that I put over him had crept up a little over his face but not completely. Just seeing him like that alarmed me and I immediately reached down and turned him over. Now that I think back on it I think I knew (even though at the time I didn't want to think it) that something was wrong because I remember the manner in which I turned him over; I reached down and instead of picking him up gently and turning him, I reached down with one hand and simply rolled him over with one quick motion. I can't begin to describe the horror I felt next. When I saw his face it was clear that he was gone. He was an awful pale yellowish color and his mouth was slightly open. He was already beginning to become stiff as I remember his legs did not bend when I rolled him. I began screaming his name and I remember my voice was almost unrecognizable. John came flying into his room and I told him to call 911. He was running around the living room and could not find the phone and was starting to scream and panic so I left Riley and went to find the phone. I dialed 911 and when the operator came on I tried to be calm and tell her what was going on but the only thing I got out calmly was "My three-month old is dead." And after I heard myself say that I began screaming, "My God, my God, he's dead!" I remember her telling me to calm down and that medical help was on its way and she asked me if I wanted to stay on the line with her. I told her I had to go and hung up. I didn't go back into Riley's room. John had taken him out of his crib and had him on the floor giving him CPR. I glanced over quickly but stayed out in the living room pacing waiting for the ambulance. I could hear the air coming out of Riley's mouth as John was pressing on his chest and it was a raspy sound - I wanted to vomit. John was sobbing by then. I called my dad and he came right over. When the police came to the door I remember opening it before they even knocked and I just looked at the male officer and didn't say anything. He must have read my mind because he didn't ask me anything and quickly made his way to Riley's room without me even having to tell him where. I sat on the couch - numb - I don't remember much of what happened after that. I hadn't even cried yet and I was unusually calm as the officers and detectives came and asked me all the necessary questions. I had to go into his room and describe to the officer exactly how I found him. I sat on the couch and the female officer came over and knelt by my side and I smoked a cigarette and didn't say a word. Still no tears... When we were finally able to go the hospital I rode in the back of the police car with my dad. The female officer was driving us and I remember she was driving awfully fast like we needed to get there as soon as possible. Why the rush? He's dead already. When we pulled up the male officer was waiting outside the emergency room and he confirmed with us that Riley had indeed died. I still didn't cry. When the nurse led us into the room where they had Riley is where I lost it. He was all wrapped up in a blanket; he looked like a newborn after being delivered in the hospital. There were a bunch of tubes down his nose and throat. He wasn't that yellowish color anymore and to me he looked just like he was sleeping except that when I felt him, he was ice cold. I sat down and held him and just completely broke down. Over and over again I sobbed my poor baby, my poor baby... I was rocking him back and forth and kissing his head and cheeks the whole time feeling as though a knife were cutting through my heart. I even lifted his eyelid as if to say, "Hey! Wake up!" I don't think I've ever cried the way I did while I was holding my dead baby. Dying right there with him would have been my only comfort. The slew of emotions I was feeling at the time are like a roller coaster - up and down - calm, numb, angry, uncontrollable sobbing, screaming... I think I did all of those in the short time I was at the emergency room. My family members came and held Riley before we had to release him to the medical examiner. The detective came and asked John and I a couple more questions. Now that I think back I wish I could remember the female officer's name; she was very nice and I remember her asking me if I had any other children. When I told her I had a 2-year-old daughter she told me that she had two young children also. Then I remember her starting to cry as she sat next to me. My aunt drove my dad and I home; John went with his brother. As we were leaving it was just starting to get daylight and the streets were getting busy with traffic. Life goes on... That was the hardest thing to do - leave my little baby there at the same hospital he was born in. When we got back to house I sat on the couch and wrapped Jasmine's blanket around me and just sat with my eyes closed - feeling the most indescribable pain and anguish I never thought existed. That night was worse. After everyone left and it was time to go to bed is when I felt myself starting to panic. I slept in Jasmine's room on the floor and woke up every hour with my heart pounding. The next few days were a blur. We were so busy with funeral arrangements and having people over. The funeral was that Friday, March 12th, and Riley is buried next to my grandfather. My grandfather never got to meet my first born, Jasmine, but now he has my little baby boy to hold and love. Sounds silly but that's my comfort. I have my good days and my bad; Jasmine keeps me sane. If I didn't have my little girl we may be telling a completely different story. I know that one day I will laugh again without feeling guilty; the pain will never be gone but will one day be "lightened"; I will remember Riley and smile instead of cry. Web site created by Memorials By Judi Midi selection: Tears In Heaven You are visitor number