He died from SIDS and I fell. I tumbled down a bottomless pit. Until all light disappeared. Each moment deeper and darker than the last. No one was there to catch me, no one was there to comfort me as I fell. I reached out, in my own way, but no one reached back. I called out and nobody responded, not even an echo. What friends and family I thought I had turned out to be a mirage. I fell right through their safety net as if it was made of smoke, dispersing and dissipating before my eyes. I could curl into a ball, sob myself to sleep, and still wake up and be falling. Sinking lower and lower into the blackness. I could rage and scream and yell, I could punch and kick and dig my nails in until they tore off, and nothing would change. Nothing would bring my baby back. Nothing can take the pain and loss away. I beg God for rock bottom, so I can break my neck.