The day was April 22, 2011. I was a 15-year-old misfit, accompanied by then girlfriend, along with our mothers, to our son’s first heart hearing. We had been anticipating this very moment for so long; it was the pinnacle of our young lives. Once there, the doctor was then examining my girl, to see how she and the baby were doing. After that, he then proceeded to give her an ultrasound, so we could hear our son's heartbeat. I stood there staring at the monitor waiting for that glorious sound of my sons heartbeat. I was filled with so much excitement and hope for a great future. Until, I was hurt to the core but what the doctor said, “your baby has no heartbeat, it (he) passed away“.
Hearing those words broke me inside. Once those heinous words hit my ears, I fell backwards and hit a wall with my back. I stood there lifeless. All I remember was seeing my girl, her mom and mine, crying their eyes out. I was in disbelief. I felt as though my soul was cast out and vanquished.
When that horrendous ordeal happened, I didn’t care what people were going to think of me. I was in a place of misery, and if anyone had anything to say about it, I was going to bring them into my world. I didn’t know how to grieve properly, all I knew was how to mask it. The pain and anguish within my soul were overpowering at times. I was lost in a sea of darkness. I was a hollow shell of a man, defeated in many ways possible.
Still to this day, that part of my heart has never been the same. I still feel that void of sorrow, calling out for peace. Even after all these years have gone by, I can still see how my life has taken a turn when that devastating day came into existence. My whole life after that was distraught. I turn to a life of causing heartache, just to help cope with my own. I sought out to make pain, so anyone in my view could feel what I was going through.
Just last month, it was the 10 year anniversary of my son's passing. I was in a trance, thinking of what could have been if my son were still alive. Many thoughts came to mind that day, but I st