On March 2003, I was pregnant with our second child... a little baby boy we named Connor. I carried Connor for two and a half months knowing that once he was born, that he would only live for a short while and that he would probably pass away in my arms. He was born at 31 weeks gestation. He came into this world on May 26th, 2003. I remember hearing a little noise from him and thinking "oh please Lord, please let him live. The doctors could have been wrong. Please let him live and be perfectly healthy." This was not the case. Even though I did not get my biggest wish for him to live, I did get my second wish...to tell him while he was alive how much I love him, how sorry I was that this happened to him, and how much I would miss him. Ninety minutes later after arriving by c-section, he passed away quietly in my arms surrounded by all of our family and closest friends. Heaven received a very precious little angel that Memorial Day.
Two months later I found myself visiting Connor's grave feeling a strong sense that I needed to do something to help other families that found themselves in this horrifyingly tragic situation. As my sadness deepened at the sight of the graves of other babies that still only had a temporary marker, I realized that I could help. I could help these families get a permanent grave marker for their precious little angels. These babies were a very big part of their families' lives, even if for a brief time. These babies deserved to be remembered. I felt that since I didn't have Connor here to take care of, that as his mother, I at least needed to make sure the memory of his existence would go on. It was my responsibility to make sure that he had a permanent marker at his grave so that decades from now, someone will walk by and see that my son existed, even if it was only for ninety minutes. He will surely exist forever in my heart.