Very Heavy Hearts.

The past week started with two doctor visits. Dan brought Rocco in on Monday (for some little man issues) and I brought Gabby in on Tuesday. Gabby had a ruptured ear... so crazy... as she didn't even complain about her ear hurting until Monday night. When I left the doctor on Tuesday... Dr. O asked when I'd be bringing in the third, lil Matteo. This was so often the pattern of the past 9 months. Bring one in... then by the end of the week, we'd have brought them all in.

The week ended tragically. A way that I still can not even believe. But I know it's real because the pain and sorrow and hurt I feel is all I can feel or even think about.

Our dear sweet angel baby, Matteo Tate, left us to become a true angel.

Matteo came down with a fever of 103.7 on Friday afternoon. We paged the doctor and his advice was give him a bath and Tylenol, which I had already done. I remember Matteo shivering and not happy when I was giving him the bath. He woke up several times throughout the night and Dan got up with him each time. Each time he drank a few ounces of milk and went back to bed. Matteo's waking temperature on Saturday at 6am was 101.7. We got it down to 99.9 around 1pm and I thought he was beginning to feel a bit better as he started playing with Rocco and Gabby instead of clinging to me and just wanting to be held. His fever crept up again in the afternoon and was 102.4 around 2pm and 102.7 around 5pm. By 8pm, it had reached 104.3. But the odd thing was that he was outside with Rocco and Gabby... wiggling around, hitting the ball with the bat, and poking at ants. He was tired though. So I decided it was time to put him down for bed.



















Oh God... if only I would have known.

I rocked him while he drank his bottle. He held onto his blankie and he held onto me. He nestled into my chest and breast and looked up at me a few times to make sure I was there holding him. I know he was so uncomfortable and warm. I layed him down on his back, on his blanket and he rolled over immediately, like he always did. He started to stir and whine and cry a little as I was shutting his door. I walked back in... thinking I would need to rock him some more. But, he settled in. So I shut the door. The last time I would ever look at my sweet baby Matteo alive.

The baby monitor was on all night. I hear every single peep and it was silent all night. Both boys slept through the night, or so we thought.

Rocco started crying at 5:09am. Dan went in and put him back down on his back, and he was falling back asleep. Dan went over to check on Matteo. He touched him... and he knew.

I heard Dan yell for me and he had Matteo in his arms. Immediately, when I heard Dan yell... I knew. I don't know how I knew. But I knew he was dead. And, I was immediately in shock and crying and screaming at the top of my lungs.

I held my dead baby. I. Held. My. Dead. Baby. Nobody in the world should ever have to hold their dead child. Or see that. Or have memories of the vision or smells of their dead baby. Nobody. Ever.

I held and hugged him until the police made me leave so they could do what they needed to do. That was followed by the coroner. The hell started at 5:09am and has only continued. I held him and cried on him and cut some of his hair before they took him from our home which now seemed so cold and empty.

We talked with the coroner for a very long time. They are leaning towards two causes of death at this point. One of which is Meningococcal. The other of which may have been an enlarged heart, which would have been a very rare side effect of the Hand, Foot and Mouth disease which all the kids had a little over a month ago. We are hoping to know more at some point today.

Our hearts are beyond heavy. Our heads hurt. Our hearts hurt. I have never cried or hurt so much in my entire life.

Grief has swept into my happy home and heart and has taken over.

Dan and I could not sleep last night. I kept thinking Gabby had a fever or she had stopped breathing. Dan could not bear to leave Rocco without checking on him every hour. We both found ourselves sneaking into his room and pinching him or making sure he was breathing. I found a blanket and pillow on the floor this morning in the twins bedroom between the cribs. Dan had tried to sleep in there last night.

I was awake all night. All. Night. I could not stop playing over and over in my head Dan yelling my name, me knowing... not sure how I knew, but I did. And, the memories of holding my sweet, sweet dead baby boy. My mind kept repeating over and over Meningococcal. Me hearing myself say it. Me hearing the coroner say. Me hearing the pediatrician say it. That word alone haunted me throughout the night.

And all I could do was cry. I cried to myself. Then, I would cry louder and would get up and go to our bathroom and weep. I could only simply ache for my sweet baby Matteo. He would have been 18 months old on the 10th. Today is Dan & my 7th wedding anniversary. And, today is the second worst day of my entire life. And, tomorrow will be the third. And, Tuesday will be the fourth.

The worst days of my life.

Rocco did Matteo's wiggle today several times. He's looking for his brother. I know he already misses his best friend, his twin. Gabby knows her brother is dead. But, she then asks why she can't play with him and tells me she misses him a lot and then she reminds me he will come back to us.

I know he's an angel. But, I miss my baby. I want him back. Here with me.

I guess if anything, I am thankful I got to hold him, snuggle him, and play with his hair and hold his chubby feet all day on Saturday. I'm so thankful I was there with him... all day. And that I saw him happy on Saturday. I saw him play with Rocco and Gabby one last time and I will hold that memory in my heart forever. Even though it now hurts so bad every time I think of the fact I will never see that again.

Not many people know... but I am about 13 weeks pregnant with a baby Surprise. We weren't planning it. We never thought it would happen to us. But, somehow it did and our baby Surprise is due to arrive 3 days after Rocco and Matteo would have turned 2 years old. I'm trying to take deep breaths and remind myself that amidst this horrible, awful, hell we're living right now... I need to stay strong and nourish baby Surprise. It's difficult.

Matteo Tate Martino
January 10, 2008 - July 5, 2009
17 months, 25 days old
Rest in Peace, Sweet Angel

Here are a few very recent photos of our little angel:

























































And, some from Friday at Gilroy Gardens:


































































I caught this shot on Saturday... Matt was snuggling his sleepy daddy on the sofa while watching "Go Diego Go!" This photo was probably taken within 12 hours of his death:

















And then earlier in the day on Saturday, I guess the kids were hungry for some Fruit Loops... I think Rocco did the deed of spilling them all over the floor. All 3 enjoyed dining off the floor... and then Rocco made the effort to clean it up.