Josiah was nearly 6 months old now. He was "talking" and "singing" more and more. He could almost sit on his own, and was the best natured baby we had ever seen! He was so perfect, I recognized what a gift we had in Josiah and told him daily that God had a special plan for him! I promised him so many times that he would always be safe and happy. I never, never wanted Josiah to get sick. No matter how hard I tried, though, he still developed an ear infection. This was the start of the bad thing.

Josiah never really got over this, and it turned into a cold. He started to exhale more forcefully, he woke up at night ice cold. It was November, so I thought I just needed to cover him more. Soon Josiah was sleeping in a blanket sleeper, covered with several blankets, and wearing a hat. I still gathered up my freezing baby each night and took him into my bed to snuggle him warm again.

It was at this time his eating began to slow up. I had used all the extra breast milk from in the freezer, and was deciding whether or not to buy some formula for when I was at school. Suddenly, Josiah wasn't waking up to eat while I was gone. I was relieved because then he was ready to eat when I arrived home, and I was building a stock of extra milk again. I honestly didn't give this another thought. Josiah had his cold for nearly 3 weeks.

We ended up taking Josiah to the emergency room. He had been seen by the pediatric doctor that day, but she said he was fine. I thought he looked dehydrated. He was very sick.
He was admitted to the pediatric intensive care unit.

I remember thinking he would die in the ER that night, and telling anyone who would listen to look in his record, that the doctor said he was fine. My darling baby boy was found to have a dilated cardiomyopathy. He was dying.

This was the hardest part and the easiest part. I think I was not comprehending, and knew too much at the same time. Josiah was put on a respirator and was shocked back to us each time his heart gave out.

On December 3, 1996 I finally realized, or accepted that my baby was not going to get a heart transplant. He couldn't even go downstairs for a CT scan! How was he going to make it across town for a transplant? I think at this time I truly discovered what I had always known, that true love means letting go. I wanted Josiah to live. The doctors were trying to keep him alive, but not trying to save him. There is a difference. My baby was being shocked back to life, in order to have the opportunity to be shocked back the next time. He was not being saved, there was no transplant coming, only the chance to be brought back over again. I love Josiah with my whole heart. I never, never wanted him to be hurt, or sick, or sad. Now things were happening to him that were too horrible to watch. No mother wants her child to be shocked, simply because it could be done. I didn't ever want my baby to be stuck with needles, now it was happening to him on a moment by moment basis. I wanted Josiah back with me. I wanted our life to start again. I wanted everyone to leave my baby alone. Even if that meant he would die. At least nobody would be hurting my sweet little boy anymore.

Josiah died on December 7, 1996 just past midnight. My husband and I held him for several hours. It was wonderful to finally be able to snuggle him, knowing nothing was hurting. I couldn't cry that night, I knew that my sweet baby boy had been freed. I knew he could not live on as he had been the past three weeks. I knew he had to go. I'll never believe he wanted to leave us. Josiah fought so hard to live! I truly feel he wanted to come home as much as we wanted him back. I know he would not have left if he didn't have to. I begged him to stay with me on December 3rd. I think he stayed until he knew I would be able to let him go.