Now that I’ve survived, the life of a freelance writer brought me much joy, introduced me to amazing people and places. I did some good work, too. From 1995 maybe. – JDW
So for the mother’s sake the child was dear, And dearer was the mother for the child.
– Samuel Coleridge, “Sonnet to a Friend Who Asked How I Felt When the Nurse First Presented My Infant to Me.”
How much do you know about SIDS? Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
“Crib Death.”
SIDS is the number one cause of death among infants.
SIDS occurs most often between two and four months, but older and younger babies also die of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
SIDS is not caused by suffocation and aspiration.
SIDS is not caused by child abuse.
SIDS is not caused by immunization.
SIDS is not contagious.
SIDS is not hereditary.
SIDS occurs in rich families and poor families, and all families in between, of every race and creed, the highly educated and the illiterate. Regardless of your social and economic status, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome strikes us all. More males than females.
SIDS cannot be predicted, nor prevented. The greatest number of deaths occur during the winter months, during sleep.
SIDS probably has more than one cause.
SIDS occurs most often in babies who appeared to be healthy.
Each year, in these United States of America, an estimated 7,000 babies die from SIDS.
One hundred of these deaths, little babies remember, occur in Oregon.
SIDS is recognized as an unpredictable medical disorder. It is the unexpected and sudden death of an apparently healthy infant. Woefully inexplicable and tragically real.
Following a complete postmortem investigation, including an autopsy, an examination of the scene of death and a review of the child’s medical history, THE DEATH REMAINS UNEXPLAINED.
One of every 500 newborns will die mysteriously during the first year of life.
Much too soon.
We need answers and finding those answers is the work of the National SIDS Foundation. The Oregon Chapter helps those affected by SIDS through support services, education and promoting awareness of this terrible killer.
Parents who have witnessed their baby’s death report the infants appeared to die very peacefully in their sleep. They seem simply to stop breathing.
Like a tiny candle in the wind.
Like chunky, twenty-one pound Bradley Allen.
“My son died on January 20, 1992,” Kristina Allen says in a quiet voice. “Robert and I were newly married and it was a high priority for us to have children. Bradley was our firstborn. I stayed home with him for five months, but then, for economic reasons, I returned to my job.
“I would cry on Tri-Met on my way to work because I had to leave him,” Kristina recalls. “Bradley died at the baby-sitter’s my first week back.”
She was numb, disbelieving, hysterical, emotions pulsing like a music video. “It was undescribable. Horrifying. Terribly, terribly hard,” Mrs. Allen explains. Still quiet.
“I was at the office when I learned Bradley was dead. My husband called about then to tell me he was running a little late, he always picked Bradley up. Robert was calling from his car, and his phone kept crackling in and out, while I tried to tell him our son was dead,” Kristina continues. “He had a difficult time making sense of what I was saying.”
Kristina Allen was saying, OUR CHILD HAS BEEN KILLED BY SIDS.
“You kind of think you can go to sleep and make it go away, wake up and have this all be just a dream,” admits Kristina, who says it took her an entire year to get over the shock alone.
“When I got to the baby-sitter’s, there were police cars and fire trucks out front, a paramedic asked me if I wanted to go upstairs and see Bradley.”
She never saw him dead. “I said, ‘No.’ My husband went upstairs, and he told me later, I was right. That wasn’t our son upstairs. Bradley was always so full of life.”
After Bradley’s death, Kristina told Robert she hoped he would stay married to her, even though she never wanted to have another child.
“Of course,” he said. He loved her.
Kristina changed her mind a year after Bradley died. When the shock finally wore off. The Allens’ second child is also a boy. The Allens call him Kyle.
The same age Bradley was at the time of his death, Kyle weighs a chunky twenty-one pounds.
And still growing.