I lost the love of my life on March 17th. He had been clean almost a year since his last relapse. He inspired and helped so many people. Everyone thought he was a success story. I found him unresponsive after apparently using heroin laced with fentanyl. I was 38 weeks pregnant and he was so excited. He had never been happier or healthier. He constantly thanked me for the happiest years of his life. Now looking back I realize he had been using for over a week before his death. I feel so guilty for missing the signs. If I had caught it earlier he might still be here. If I had paid more attention, checked his call logs and GPS... I could have caught it right away. I let my guard down and now he is gone forever. Maybe if I wasn't so tired and cranky, hadn't snapped at him... made sure he wasn't so stressed out. The night before I know something was going on. If I just searched and found the drugs I could have thrown them away. I also feel so guilty for not finding him sooner that morning. I was right upstairs while he was dying alone in the bathroom. Maybe if I found him earlier they could have brought him back. He was the sweetest, most amazing man in the world and the best stepfather. My kids are devastated and now I'm about to have a new baby all alone. I just can't believe he is really gone. He loved us so much and he tried so hard but struggled with PTSD and depression. I wish he had just talked to me and told me the truth. I would have done anything to help him. I'm so sorry and I miss him so much every second of every day.