What would you do if you had 5 minutes?

Today’s prompt is a doozy – 5 minutes. Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010.

Announcing to our parents that I was pregnant – I thought I would have to remind my dad that I was no longer a teenager, I’m married and have done this before! The first time I felt the baby move. Telling our daughter she was going to be a big sister. Seeing the baby on the first ultrasound and learning it’s a boy. Our walking HIPAA violation (Taylor) as she skipped down the hall of the doctor’s office telling everyone with ears, “It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” Did I say feeling him move? I loved that. Wednesday, September 8, 2010 – the morning my water broke. Pressing the buzzer to get into the women & infant’s center, the guy asking me if he could help me and me saying, “Yes. My water just broke and I’d like to come in, please.” Seeing my sweet baby boy, feeding him a bottle and getting to look into his beautiful eyes. Spending 6 weeks at home with him – the ooo-face, the joy on his face when we put a burp cloth under his chin, his often man-sized burps, his sneezes, his grip, his beautiful eyes, his grin and laugh (only saw/heard them in his sleep). His sweet face, his long pretty fingers, his cute toes, his soft red hair, the feel of his little bottom in my hand.

Part of me would be okay not remembering this next part, but I have to remember. Thursday, November 18, 2010. I was making chicken curry when we heard the alarm sound (his monitor). I remember my husband screaming then seeing my sweet boy. Lifeless. The doctor telling me they’d tried all they could. After that, the outpouring of love and support from our family and friends. The provisions God provided and still provides. His viewing. A 2 foot long casket – they should never have to have ever made them that size. It’s just wrong. Seeing him for the last time on earth. Kissing him for the last time.

I think my time’s up. 2010 was a life-changing year on many levels. I hope 2011 is life-changing as well, but without the heart break.


  1. Yes, this is a doozy alright! I can’t imagine what you went through that night … the disbelief … the terror … the sad news … having to call your families … I thank God you have such tremendous support from friends. We certainly felt it when we were there. Hugs!

  2. I treasure quiet moments in early morning rocking and caressing, feeding, changing – so Mom and/or Dad could sleep a little longer…stroking his beautiful face, him scrunched up lying on my chest … peaceful, trusting, loving. The tragedy. And the pain. Mommy is supposed to be able to kiss it and make it well … and there was no making it well. I held him in my arms way too briefly … in my heart I’ll hold him forever.

  3. I am glad you have your memories. They are fresh and painful now, but they will be special forever. It was an honor to have Keith in our lives for a while. Love you both. Hang in there.