Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Hi Baby. I hope you enjoyed our little visit with you today. Your baby brother is tiny, isn't he? So far the only thing you two have in common is your constant need for more milk. I think your appetite still has his beat, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he catches up to you. Logan is asking so many questions about you as a baby, trying to remember you that small. We took out your baby book and together we read about your birth and how you peed on everything, including your Peepa. The other day Logan said, "I've gone on three field trips so far. That reminds me of Sawyer." When I asked him why, he said, "Because Sawyer should be three now. Every time I hear the number three I think of Sawyer." Your brother loves you so much. I know you guys fought nonstop, unless you were in the pool together, but he really wishes he would have been there to protect you. We all do Baby.

Now that I'm at home alone with Everett while Logan is at school and Daddy at work, I've discovered that I really need to find a hobby. I thought about you all day today, and of course, that just leads me to rereading the blogs. There's so many memories of you that I've previously written about that I'm already starting to forget. I can't stand that. How can I forget the things you've done and said? I'm so sorry Baby. I also went through the cabinet where we keep all of the remnants from the funeral. In there I found your precious handprints and footprints that the hospital sent to us. The other night, we were at Grandpa's house talking about cats and dogs and how crazy hospital bills can be. The conversation then turned to people's experiences in putting their animals down. They mentioned that the vet sent out paw prints of the animals afterwards. They also mentioned that they were given the choice to watch the final breaths. That's about the time that Daddy and I left the conversation. Of course nobody would expect our minds to turn to you when talking about such things, but there were just too many similarities. So in a cabinet your prints sit because I wouldn't be able to look at them everyday, knowing that they were taken after you final breaths were, which I also wouldn't have been able to handle watching. We were in the room for the "brain death tests," but I couldn't watch. I couldn't watch them take you off of the ventilator and expect to see your little chest rise and fall only to be crushed that it didn't. I couldn't watch them check your lifeless eyes for any responses to the several tests they ran. I could only listen, and even that was almost too much to bear. We had already spent what seemed like eternity riding a roller coaster of hopes and tragic disappointments. Also in the cabinet, I found the DVD that the church sent us of the ceremony. We have never watched it, so in my moments of bawling grief, I decided to take it one step further and put that in. Your baby brother was sleeping through all of this by the way - I won't burden him with pain or sorrow ever. As I watched the DVD I realized that so much happened that I don't remember at all. So many of the speeches, the pastor's words, the faces in the crowd, all seemed new and unfamiliar to me. I thought I was holding it together so well that day, but apparently I wasn't even there. My breath caught every time the camera panned over your casket. I could just glimpse your gorgeous hair that I miss so much, your beautiful blue shirt that would have made your eyes stand out so much, tucked over you Scooby Doo shirt, and your hands. Oh your hands, your pudgy little carrot fingers that I miss holding and rubbing at night. And I'm so disappointed - the DVD freezes during the slideshow so I can't see anything that happened after that. I really wanted to watch Logan as he put your favorite truck in the casket with you. I wanted to see how he was reacting to everything. I feel like I was focused so much on him throughout that morning. I continue to be amazed with your brother. He is so strong - the only other thing you two had in common.

I've been thinking about you a lot lately, mostly at night as I sit up and watch your brother eat. You pop into my mind and I sit and cry as your brother drinks his way back to sleep. I had a dream last night too. Logan, Everett, and I were in the bath together (I'm not reading into that part at all), when all of a sudden I tripped over Logan and fell, dropping you under the water. I grabbed you and brought you up immediately, but you were still crying so hard. And then I woke up. I wasn't able to go back to sleep after that. I don't think I'll ever get past this blame and guilt. Things are so different around here. Your baby brother has brought some much needed happiness back into this home, but the hole in our hearts for you will never be filled. We love you so much Baby. We're still here, loving you, missing you, wanting you back. Forever and always, to the moon and back, we love you.

1 comment:

  1. Dearest Pennino family
    Greetings from the Denham's
    First off congratulations on your new bundle of joy. As you know we read all of your post crying and praying and just hoping that things are getting easier for you. I have waitef for a few post to comment I am not sure why I guess I was waiting for the newest member to come into the picture so I could say how happy we are for all of you. I think this is exactly what your broken hearts need. Never to replace that will never be but to help heal. You talk about Logan asking questions I can hear it in your post that he is opening up about something that wouls be so confusing to any young child. He had a play mate and then he didnt. This new little bundle (which you all DESERVE SO MUCH) will be his light back to childhood. Thank you for sharing your lives I won't say I know what it is like but I have learned over the years from my on trial and tribulations that writing helps. So take care and just know the Denham family is always TEAM PENNINO!

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