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It was one year ago that our baby Naethyn was delivered just after midnight on Friday, March 6th, 2009. Just moments after waking up from surgery, the nurses were asking us if we wanted to hold him. I remember one nurse just before they put my son in my arms, she said, "He's perfect." I recall thinking that there was still some hope and that he somehow survived. They handed me my son and then I knew that my prayers could not be answered. This morning is like any other morning for me. There's the daily morning routine of getting the kids dressed, changed, and fed breakfast. It's weird to think a year ago I was not in my house doing those things, but at the hospital saying hello and see you later to my third son. I was very angry last night. I remember the sequence of events that night as if they had just happened. I am still so very angry at my OB. There's nothing I can do. I'm alive though, so I should be thankful that I am living to see my other sons grow up. Sometimes the guilt for that is a bit overwhelming, but I am getting better about it. We are not ready to let go of his ashes. I'm not ready to let go of him. We had planned on perhaps scattering them today in CA, but we knew weeks ago that it wasn't going to happen (this year). I know there's no rush. We're trying to get the house picked up this morning and then we are going to head out with the kids and just see where the day takes us. I want them to have a good day today as today is special - their little brother's "birthday."