Donnie’s Story

May 13, 2014 started out like any other day…I dropped off my oldest at school and the two younger boys at daycare.  At the time, my daughter Lilly was 7, David was 3, and Matthew was almost 4 months old, he was born on January 14, 2014.  My family felt complete.  I was the happiest I had ever been, content with life.  Later that morning I was told I was needed in the conference room at work; there I met two police officers who told me my son Mathew had passed away at daycare.  Shock immediately set in.  I didn’t know what to think, what to feel, or what to do.  The next few days and weeks were a blur; devastation, hopelessness, sorrow, emptiness, deep and heavy pain filled my world.

Coming home to tell our older children their brother had died was horrible.  My son David was there when it happened; he remembers the daycare lady taking Matthew to the lawn outside to perform CPR so the other kids wouldn’t see it.  He remembers sitting in the police station waiting for us to pick him up.  I remember coming home to all of Matthew’s things, his clothes, and his smell, but he wasn’t there.  My husband was my rock during these early days. So many times I literally fell to the floor in grief, screaming and crying ugly tears and he was there to hold me.

The funeral was about a week after he passed away.  My husband and sister did much of the planning and coordinating, I was just trying to “keep it together.”   The funeral was a blur.  I don’t think I even cried at his funeral. I remember seeing him in the coffin; it was the first time we were able to see him since that morning I dropped him off at daycare.  We were told we couldn’t see him because he was “evidence.”  I begged and pleaded with the funeral home to let me hold him, but I was denied.  What I wouldn’t give to hold him, one more time.  I remember the feeling of my empty arms—I could still feel the weight of his body. I would cry, hoping and wishing, while pretending to hold and rock him.  I was still nursing him at the time of his passing; having to pump was excruciating painful because he should have been there, it was like pouring salt into a wound.  Closing the lid on his casket was tragic. I knew he wasn’t there, but my mama heart said otherwise. I gave birth to that body; I nourished it, I held him, rocked him, and loved him.

Dearth is horrible! I remember feeling like I was standing on the outside of black hole and it was getting ready to swallow me up.  Feeling like you are going to lose your mind is a sickening and scary experience.  There were so many times I wanted to “head for the hills” and mentally check out, but I didn’t; I kept holding on. Over the next few weeks, the shock began to wear off.  The grief was overwhelming and exhausting.  Most days I felt like I was stumbling through the day, like trying to find a light switch in a dark room. Then at the end of my days I was relieved—I made it through another day.  I used alcohol to numb the pain, my emotions and brain.  I didn’t want to think about him—it hurt too much, but I knew that wasn’t the answer.

I spent a lot of time at his grave, I felt close to him there.  I would write in my journal about how I was so mad at God. How could this happen?  What did I do to deserve this?  How can I leave this world too?

We were told by the detective that SIDS was expected.  It took them eight months to confirm it was SIDS—eight months of waiting and pondering the what ifs.  His autopsy report and death certificate are still sealed up in our home safe.  I can’t bring myself to open them.  I still don’t know what time Matthew died.

I began to search online for other moms who lost babies to SIDS.  Most of the sites were too “fluffy,” with no depth or guidance.  I knew I couldn’t face this tragedy without Jesus.  I came across another mom’s blog that mentioned Hope Mommies.

When I came to the Hope Mommies website it immediately felt “right.”  I joined the Facebook group and was immediately encouraged by the love and support from the other moms. In the fall of 2014, I participated in a Hope Group.  It was the best thing because it focused my grief. The Hope Group helped me gain strength both physically and emotionally, and grow closer to God and His promises.  Before the Hope Group, I hadn’t opened my Bible in probably 20 years. I began to cling to the word hope; I repeated it over and over again.  I prayed and hung onto the promise that I would see my son again.  My Hope Group leader and the other moms in the group were so very instrumental in helping me not lose my mind.  A very special thanks to Kimberly Watson and Jennifer Parks for their words of healing and truth.

In March of 2015 I attended the Hope Mommies retreat.  I was so hesitant about going—a California girl going to Texas? I don’t like to fly; people like me don’t fly; I have way too much anxiety.  But I did it! I got on that plane, stress ball and all!  I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous and scared. But I was so glad I went; at the retreat I was met by the strongest and most loving women. To sit next to other moms who “get” your pain was oddly comforting.  Sharing my story at the retreat was difficult. I am an introvert by nature; the pain was very raw.  I will forever value my time at the retreat, I felt spoiled by all the little details, and it was healing to have me and Matthew honored and remembered.  I am thankful for the other moms that I met; the friendships and stories that were shared were something tangible that I could hold onto.

The ministry of Hope Mommies is what got me through my darkest days. I am thankful for the leadership at Hope Mommies and for the message and purpose that has been placed on their hearts.  I miss Matthew every day; he would be almost three years old. I wonder what he would look like—what kind of personality would he have. Holidays are especially hard. The holidays are a time of being with family, and Matthew will always be missing. His Christmas stocking hangs on our mantle, but I know I never will get to fill it with little goodies.

Amidst the loss of my son, it’s my relationship with and trust in God that has been good. I dream about the day I will see Matthew again. Until then, Lord thank You for the special gift of hope, as it truly is anchor for my soul.

– Donnie

Hope Mom to Matthew Charles Springer

My name is Donnie Springer. I live in California and love to do all types of outside activities. My husband, Dave, and I have been married for 10 years. I am thankful for the children God has given me, and I’m honored to be sharing my story with you.

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog! Every Saturday we feature a Hope Mom’s story in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here: