There are no words to express the pain I am feeling right now. My beautiful son Ryland passed away on July 21st.

I still don’t understand it and I’m not sure I ever will. In a matter of days my life, my plans, and my dreams have all been shattered. I will never know the sound of my sweet baby’s voice or the color of his eyes. I will never hear his first words or see his first shaky steps. I won’t confidently reassure him as he begs me not to leave him at his first day of kindergarten or be there for his first relationship, heartbreak, or marriage. All of these things have been torn from me in a matter of days.

My sweet boy, I’m sorry the first words you heard came from a doctor who didn’t believe you were worth saving. And I’m sorry the only words I could muster were high pitched tear filled ‘its okays.’ Because nothing was okay. You were dying.

I held your cold, fragile body in my hands as the life slowly left you. Hard kicks turned to gasping breaths and in the end it was me who made the decision to cut your cord. I didn’t know how long you had and I was panicking. I couldn’t stand the thought of you dying alone. It’s a decision I will regret for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, it’s one of those things no one tells you to prepare for. There is no instruction manual labeled “Things You Will Regret Not Doing With Your Dying Child.” And perhaps that’s because no one ever expects to lose their child.

Ryland, you are the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. In your short life, from conception to now, you have totally changed the entire course of mine and your father’s. I hope you know just how loved you are. We will never forget you.