Well, we had a pretty good week, which usually means we're looking at a tough week coming up, but maybe we'll get lucky. I've shed a few tears either to or from work every day this last week, but I was able to stay in a good mood throughout the days and nights. I've been thinking about the new baby a lot. I think he's gonna be another active boy as he's already kicking a ton. We had our second trimester ultrasound and he was being difficult for the technician, so I'm already looking forward to meeting this little firecracker. I keep asking for him to have some pieces of Sawyer (mostly physical), but so far it's looking like we're going to have another "all boy" boy on our hands. We are looking forward to some noise around here. I think Matt is getting his athlete.

I finally had another dream with Sawyer the other night. He shows up in dreams often, but it's as if nothing is different, he's just there. I look forward to the dreams where I'm partly conscious that things have changed, so I always grab him and hold him because that's all I want to do. In this last one, he popped up from behind something and started wiggling his fingers at me, trying to be scary (maybe Halloween is on my mind), but he had this huge smile on his face that was anything but frightening. That smile warmed my heart so much. I picked him up and all he said was "I love you Mommy" over and over again. It wasn't in the deep voice he usually says it in, but it was so clear. I remember trying to record it on my phone in the dream, because I wish I could hear those words again. So badly. I'm so thankful that his teacher, Jennifer, sent me a few recordings of him. In one he is saying "I love you," and in the other he is listening for me at the door and says, "Mommy." So I listen to and watch those two videos consecutively every single morning. It starts my day off with me able to hear "I love you Mommy" from my baby.

We made it past the first holiday that he loved, "fireworks day," less than a month after his death, but I know next Friday is going to be even more rough. We had such a great Halloween last year. Sawyer would never stay by our side, so we were extremely nervous walking through crowds of kids on dark streets that night. He surprised us all though. He stayed right next to Logan and his cousin Abby, walking house to house with his little Scooby Doo mask and treat bag. He did try to eat every piece of candy after each house, but he was so good. The next two months, between Halloween, Thanksgiving, and of course, Christmas, are going to be the 2nd toughest months of our lives. It will only help that we'll be surrounded by friends and family most of the time. So to those of you still following our story, and still keeping us in your prayers, please pray for two things: that this baby continues to grow into a happy, healthy little boy; and that we can survive these next few months.

I haven't gotten back to the praying point yet. While every piece of me wants to believe and have faith, I'm just not there yet. I want to believe because it hurts so bad thinking that I'll never see my Sawyer again, but we did believe. We believed in God and his miracles before. Sawyer did not get his breath back at the house so we thought the worst, but in the ambulance they got his heart beating again. We had hope. He then went into cardiac arrest twice that night, so again we thought it was the end. But he survived. For a week this went on. He failed, fought back, and each time gave us the hope that he would pull through. Each time we prayed harder and harder and thanked God for giving us another day, another chance. I thanked God when I got to lie by his side in the hospital bed and sing his favorite lullaby to him. I thanked God when we were able to give him a sponge bath and wash his hair so I could run my fingers through it again. Matt and I went to church the morning before his official CT scan was done and bawled our eyes out in front of God, asking, praying, pleading, begging, promising. We did it all. And in the end, all was silent. We buried our baby boy in a casket too small for this world, in a ground too cold and still for our Bam Bam. So believing that "he's in a better place" is not a possibility. In my arms, in my bed, was his favorite place. Believing that "this is part of God's plan," is honestly just cruel. And finally, believing that "this new baby is a miracle," just isn't the truth. The real miracle would be if this new baby got to know his amazing big brother. The real miracle would be if Sawyer grabbed onto that ladder and pulled himself up; if I would have taken out the stupid ladder in the first place; if one of the dogs barked; if Logan wanted to swim too; if, if, if. So many real miracles that could have happened instead of this "plan." And I know people say these things to give us hope, and frankly, there's nothing else to say, but I think I've reached the anger part of my grieving. I just want him back. Here. On this Earth. To live the life he would have loved. To grow up, get married, and have kids of his own. To kiss me goodnight. To say I love you Mommy.

I Love You video link:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/y2u55rtxsgbycb6/Sawyer%20I%20Love%20You.mkv?dl=0

 

We went to visit Sawyer today. His head stone is finally in - it really is ridiculous how long he sat there just a pile of dirt, overgrown with sprouts of grass and weeds. Made me sad to see it always so lifeless. There are headstones there in the baby section completely covered over with dirt. It's just not right. I completely understand a parent's belief that the cemetery is just a place for bones, that it's not really where our babies lie, but it's still just so sad to see stones left to be covered by dust and dirt. I don't really know what I actually expect, it just makes me sad. I was glad to see my baby's face finally above his precious little bones. I just hope life never gets too busy for us to keep alive that beautiful smile on that little rectangular rock.

Seeing parts of the baby cemetery that looked so lifeless, just reminded me of how much life Sawyer had. Not just how much he had left to live, but how much he enjoyed living. He was so full of energy. He just wanted to go swimming. It was his favorite thing. Every morning he would wake up and be so excited to put on his trunks. We had been swimming all morning. I still remember him eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich with his floaties on, then finally coming up to me after lunch, holding his arms out, saying, "Off pees." I leaned down, took them off, and set them on the family room floor, not realizing that such a simple action would have such eternal consequences. I don't understand why I can't have that moment back. I just want to make things right, to put his floaties out by the pool where he knew to grab them and ask for help putting them on, where I would have seen the ladder and known that if floaties are off I need to take out the ladder. Fifteen steps to the backyard, and instead I put them down on the family room floor. Four adults in the house, and that precious little blonde boy just wanted to go swimming. It's so hard not going over all of these memories, every day.

I cleaned out his dresser yesterday. Matt and I set up the crib, and we've already gotten a few gifts of clothes for the new baby, so I decided that while I was in a good mood and on a roll setting up for the baby, it would be a good time to open Sawyer's drawers. I opened them once to take out the shirts I wanted for his quilt, and that's the last time they've been opened in the last four months. I did fine until I got to his jammies. It reminded me of the many fights that were had just trying to get that kid into some pants. He never fought putting on his jammy shirts, but he loved to be in undies or pull-ups when going to bed. Such a defiant, strong personality. He won nearly every battle, partly because he had more will power than me, and partly because he was spoiled and I love him more than anything. Moms have that tendency to choose to lose a battle when they know it makes their baby happy. What I wouldn't do to fight those chubby little legs into and out of his pants again.

I hate this roller coaster we live on. There have been many happy moments since after June 9, but each moment still has that veil of misery. Not a day goes by that Sawyer isn't on our minds, but I can now go a whole week without shedding tears, and then it seems that I just can't even think of him without breaking down. So tough this new life we have. Good days, bad days, great days, but always something missing. My baby missing. Missing out on the life he loved so much. He just wanted to go swimming.