I am forever his mom. 
He is forever my son.
At the age of 19, I began considering adoption. My parents had taken in 86 foster children during my childhood and I was no stranger to kids in crisis. When it finally happened that I was 27, single, happily staying in on Friday nights, I decided it was time to make my family happen.
Tanner Daniel Snyder was born in Long Beach, CA on July 4th, 2000. He had Down syndrome, congenital heart disease, and asthma. While I didn’t think I wanted a son with Down syndrome, God knew what was best for me and (to be explained in a post another day) I was matched with Tanner. My baby and I met on February 27, 2004, and I officially became his mom on November 15, 2004. In later years he would also be diagnosed with Apraxia of Speech, Celiac disease, and gastritis. Becoming his mom changed my world; being his mom was my greatest joy.
It was never my desire to have an only child, and on May 5, 2006, I made him a big brother when I brought home Travis. The two were instantly bonded and have been the most perfect siblings since Day One.
Tanner’s heart disease was very managed. He had a hole in his heart successfully repaired in 2003 and the residual valve leaks only fluctuated between trivial and mild. He was seen every six months by an excellent cardiologist. The Celiac diagnosis turned me into a gluten-free pro and annual blood draws showed that I was successfully managing his very strict diet. Sadly, the gastritis was unmanaged and not responding to most any medication. Tanner was in some level of pain daily, although he was an absolute angel and rarely complained. Oh, how I hated seeing him in pain.
There will never be adequate words to explain the joy that Tanner brought to my world and all who met him. He was silliness and laughter, hugs and high fives, he knew no stranger and everyone was a “new friend” just waiting to be met. My precious boy was pure light and love.
The first week of April 2017 we took a family vacation to Havasu. I never, in my wildest of nightmares, would have guessed it would be my last memories with my son. Tanner wasn’t doing great, but I just figured his gastritis was flaring a little more than normal. Maybe somehow a cross-contamination of gluten had somehow found it’s way into a meal. He was walking a little hunched, struggling to keep his smile a little more than normal and definitely quieter than his already-quiet self.
The day after we came home, April 8th, I took him to the ER. They diagnosed him with pneumonia, gave him medication and told me that if he wasn’t feeling better in 48 hours to bring him back, and sent us home.
We started antibiotics the next morning. Sunday, the 9th was business as usual and he spent a quiet day on the couch with his iPad. Monday morning, he looked better. This was the turn we were looking for. He stayed home from school and I spent a few hours in my bedroom working. When I came out to check on him, I panicked. Something was wrong. His face looked round and his belly a little distended. Fluid retention is a sign of heart failure. Additionally, Tanner didn’t want to lay back on the couch. I would later learn that pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs) can make laying down painful.
Instantly, I grabbed our go bag and loaded him into the car and headed back to the ER. It was April 10, 2017. The doctors admitted him to the CVICU for fluid build-up in his lungs and after a short visit, his cardiologist shared his expectations that Tanner would be going home in two to three days. They were just going to give him some lasix to relieve some of the fluid build-up. Twelve hours later my son was in full cardiac and respiratory failure. He was revived with a pacemaker implanted, and on life support. Seven hours later he crashed a second time and at 8:20 pm, he was declared an angel.
Even after I watched them perform CPR the first time, it never occurred to me that he would pass. There was never a doubt in my mind that my baby was coming home.
He always came home.
The loss of Tanner blindsided me and took me to my knees, both literally and figuratively.
Navigating this new, shattered life without him has been unlike anything I could have imagined. Trying to help my son navigate his own loss has felt impossible.
There’s no question in my mind that Tanner is in Heaven, dancing with Jesus. My faith and the hope and promise I’ll see him again is the only thing that’s gotten me through the darkest of days.
From the beginning, I’ve shared my thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, and memories, as an Angel Mom with my Facebook friends and family. After many requests, I’ve decided to make my posts public… if even one person can be helped by the sharing of my journey, I’ll be grateful.
Living without Tanner feels impossible, but every day, we choose to live for him.
Baby boy, I miss you so. I’ll be your mom-mom, forever and always.
