Mom to Boston


Sioux Falls, South Dakota 

On May 24th, 2014, I found out I was expecting my second child. On May 24th, 2015 my son will have been gone for as long he was here. 68 days. My pregnancy was a healthy one. Unfortunately, morning sickness ruled my world for 5 months with both of my children, but I was expected to have a perfectly healthy baby boy. On January 9th 2015, I did. Boston was the epitome of perfection, and the autopsy that I received 3 and a half weeks after his death concluded the same. There was not a single thing wrong with any part of him, not a single toxin in his body, literally nothing. His death is “undetermined.” This is the story of the day my son became an Angel.

At 3:04 pm on St. Patrick’s day, I had just finished my last break at work and was about to walk back upstairs to take more calls. I looked at my phone one last time and at that moment received a text from my mom who was picking Boston up from daycare to take him to get his first shots. It stated “baby isn’t breathing calling 911.” I called her immediately, no answer. I called back seconds later, she answered and was sobbing. I know she would never joke about anything like that, but I truly thought that when she answered she would tell me it was some mistake and that I could go on with my day. That did not happen. She told me to tell my supervisor immediately and that I needed to leave work and meet them at the emergency room. I screamed the entire way there. I never knew what true fear felt like before those moments.
When I arrived, an EMT led me back into the hallway. I was halfway in the door of the room he was in and almost fainted at the sight of 5 or 6 nurses surrounding him. I was too scared to look at him right away and had to be brought into a different room. A lot of it is a blur. I asked numerous times what was going on but they weren’t really sure. I finally asked if his heart had stopped. The nurse was visibly shaken herself but told me “your son is very sick right now, his heart stopped beating.” She also said they were doing everything they could to help him. She then told me that they were having someone come down for pastoral care. That person ended up being my uncle who is a Deacon at Saint Michaels Catholic Church.
The nurse was actually checking on Boston when my uncle arrived, but when she came back in she asked if I wanted to go into the room with him. It was hard to talk or walk so my uncle came with me. The scene that I walked into is too horrid for words. I almost fainted again, so a nurse grabbed me a chair and I sat right next to him. I was in shock and was afraid to touch him, but a nurse told me I could hold his hand, so I did.
He was already kind of cold and was a weird grayish color. He was also hooked up to a bunch of monitors, had an IV in, a breathing tube, and was being given CPR. There were still 5 or 6 nurses in the room. They called out each time they gave him a shot of epinephrine to try to restart his heart and also each time they checked for a pulse. I watched the monitor the whole time and his heart rate stayed a flat line. My uncle was behind me and I kept hearing him say “Come on, Boston, breathe!”
All the screaming and pleading with God on the way there, and my uncles prayers in that room went unanswered. Boston was pronounced dead at 3:46 PM. I held him for a few hours, up until the last second I could, before being forced to hand my precious little son over to a detective that told me “things are going to start happening and I would not want you to remember him that way.” 
There are no words to accurately describe how much my heart shattered having to walk out of that hospital without him. He was the most perfect baby. He didn’t cry, he loved to eat, and was every mothers dream because long fussy nights were non existent with him. It has been exactly 9 long weeks since I held my son for the last time. I refuse to let his existence go unnoticed. Thank you for reading our story. 
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  1. Crystal says:

    Sara your story truly touches my heart I pray that overtime your heart is less heavy he may be gone But HE will NEVER be forgotten may blessings come to you

  2. I lost my older infant to SIDS on 1/18/15.He was being watched by his great aunt.I’m so sorry for your loss.Counseling has helped me out tremendously.

  3. Thank you for your kind words I am also so very sorry for your loss. I find comfort in talking to people that know this pain. It is ugly, but I do believe our angels are up there thinking about what one hell of a day it will be when we join them

  4. Brittney says:

    Thank you for sharing Boston’s story. Your story along with the stories of other families dealing with the loss of a child has given me a little bit of strength and comfot. It has been hard to grieve when the people around me don’t understand the pain I feel. I lost my baby girl Elizabeth at 21 weeks and 3 days. She was a fighter and lived for almost an hour before passing in my husbands arms May 6, 2015. I will keep you and your family in prayer. Continue to keep your sons story alive.

  5. Tara Cramer says:

    My son Jaxon Lee Johnson was born the same day your son tragically went up to heaven. My story is almost identical to yours. The only real difference is that I am still waiting on a reason of death from our medical examiner. Jaxon left Earth Monday, July 6th 2015 at 8:53 am at 111 days old. His picture can be seen by googling his name. He would have been 20 wks old today, and I am still numb and useless over his loss. He was my second child (my only son) as well. After my sitter found him unresponsive, I was told by paramedics that they never got a pulse. I saw my baby boy smile for the last time the morning of the 6th when I dropped him off to go to work, kissed him on the forehead, told him I loved him, and that I’d see him later that day. Breathing is the hardest for me; the grief I have for him is so profound and painful. I just wanted you to know that you are not alone, and that I am so terribly sorry for your loss.

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