Adam is still alive. His appearance has drastically changed. He has swelled considerably because of the fluids they have been pumping in him. When people come in and see him for the first time, they are shocked by what they see. But I don't see it. I still see Adam. He's just bald now. I look at his eyebrows ... and that one freckle in front of his ear. They are still giving him plasma. The oxygen level in his brain is too low. The plasma carries the red blood cells to the brain. The red blood cells carries the oxygen. It isn't helping. The ventilator is still at maximum pressure but the lungs just aren't strong enough to do their job. The kidneys are just barely working. He is spiking fevers. I don't worry about any of that. I rub his head and sing him his favorite lullaby. I sang it to him the day he was born. It was the only song that would put him to sleep. I heard him sing the same lullaby to Andrew. He told me one day that it put Andrew to sleep too when he sang it. He was really proud of that. It's a lullaby that's really kind of silly. I just made it up. It's sung to the tune or the old bible hymn, Rock of Ages. And the words are just "rocky, rocky, rocky, rock..." and that's it - that's all you say all the way through. He loved that lullaby. I spend my time with him just touching him, whispering in his ear. I lay my head on his chest to hear his heart beat; feel the warmth of his skin. My son is dying. I know this. I see it coming and I can't stop it. I know how it feels to be without hope. This was a feeling of despair in it's purest form. God held me all day long. He was preparing a place for Adam. Another day passes...