Had this poem placed in my box today: 

My mom is a survivor,
or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying,
when all the others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands upon a beach that never wash away,
I watch over my surviving mom who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others, a smile of disguise.
But through Heaven's open door,
I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with my death, to keep my memory alive.
But anyone that knows her, knows it's her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven's open door,
I try to tell her that angels protect me now and forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her, or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, call to her and show her that you care.
For no matter what emotion she may feel,
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal.

I could have written this myself. It tears me down and brings me to such deep sobs, so true. This has been a hard week. Our babysitter and the boys' teacher, Jennifer, sent me pictures of Sawyer the other day. Not great pictures, but pictures that show him helping to clean up the daycare. That's what he was - a helper. He always picked up toys, took out the trash, fed the animals. Always a pistol, but such a blessing as well. She then sent me a video where he shushes everyone and then listens for the door to the daycare and says, "Mommy!" I miss that sound so much it hurts. I just want my baby back. I know it's not right, or even possible, but sometimes I wish we would've just kept him in the hospital so I could just hold him and kiss him. Near the end they transferred him to a bed so I could like down with him. I want to be there again - lying in that bed, rubbing one hand through his hair and the other over his pudgy little hands, singing to him...I want it back.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,
And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring,
And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,
And if that looking glass gets broke,
Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat,
And if that billy goat runs away,
Mama's gonna love you anyway."
My mom sang it to me when I was young and I sang it to the boys all the time. I can't sing it to Logan anymore without crying.

When we first found out that we were expecting, Logan was at the doctor's with us. We didn't think he was paying much attention, but when we left, he asked if the baby the doctor was talking about was in my belly. A little later that afternoon he asked, "Mommy, is the baby gonna die too?" Broke my heart all over again. A few weeks ago we were leaving Chili's and after I put Logan in the car, I went to shut his door, and he said, "No!" He was watching two little kids play on the grass. I asked him what was wrong. He said, "Nothing. I just like watching brothers and sisters play together. They're lucky to have a brother and sister." He is so thoughtful, sentimental, sweet, and also broken-hearted. He's handling everything so much better than Matt and I, but we still know that he hurts inside too. He misses his bossy baby brother as much as we do.

Sawyer, you are so loved. You are so missed. I want you back. Please, come hold my hand at night. Wipe mommy's tears away and kiss me on the cheek. Let me know that you're here watching over your surviving mommy. I haven't had a dream of you in such a long time. I need to pick you up, see your beautiful eyes, have you hug my neck, and let you know I love you. Face to face. Come visit me. I miss you baby.

We've been holding off on announcing it, not quite ready to celebrate anything, especially another baby, but we are pregnant. We're expecting another baby boy on March 19.

There's so many mixed feelings going on between us. I was completely against having another baby. Our hands were full with our two boys, and honestly, I'm not the happiest pregnant person ever. Yet all that changed in the blink of an eye. Matt said to me on the night we said our final goodbyes to Sawyer that he wasn't ready to not hear "Daddy" anymore; not ready to not have a little guy toddling around his feet; not ready to be done with all things baby. And with those words we decided to start trying again. Little did we know, we were somehow already pregnant. The world works in mysterious ways, and this one is definitely a mystery to us. We're happy though. It's taken me up until yesterday to actually be excited at the thought of a baby though. I couldn't shake the thought of just not being deserving of another try. We failed Sawyer, why should we be given the chance to put another life in our hands? We are so scared. Babies are so fragile, and we're just so frightened to mess up again. And while we're still scared of that thought, I do need a baby. Logan needs a brother, seven year difference or not. People would ask if we wanted a girl or a boy and Matt would immediately reply, "Boy." I didn't have a preference at all - probably because I still wasn't really ready for another chance. However, yesterday we had our first trimester ultrasound where the sex was visible. I didn't know how badly I wanted a boy until she said that's what we're having. Matt is thrilled and so am I. For Matt, Sawyer was his athlete. He was rough and tough and eager to please. He loved baseball, he loved basketball. He loved sports. Matt wants that back. For me, I don't really know what it is. I keep hoping and hoping that this new little life will have a piece of Sawyer. I think that must be why it was important to me to have a boy. I know he won't be Sawyer, but if he could just have those big blue eyes, or that straight white hair, or those big mommy teeth, then I would have my piece of Sawyer. I just need a piece of him that I can hold onto. A piece that I can see, feel, hold. I miss him so much. He seems so far away. He really is just memories and stories now, and it's just not right. Nothing feels right about it.

Logan is helping me to get excited about this new baby though. He sits next to me with his hand on my belly (which is already ridiculously large by the way), and constantly gives us name suggestions. So far his number one choice is "cutie." We may be overruling that. Either way, here we are, starting again from the beginning it seems. Strollers, carseats, bottles, diapers - everything we thought we were done with. Bittersweet. I finally understand the truth behind that word.

We had a really good weekend. We took Logan to Universal Studios on Saturday (which I still can't believe we paid Disneyland prices for), but Logan and I had never been there, so it was fun. Normally going places that we know Sawyer would love hurts, but it was a good experience Saturday. Maybe the fact that we hadn't ever gone there with Sawyer was part of it, who knows? Logan had a great time and faced some of his fears (which is pretty much anything with fast movement), and Matt and I enjoyed getting out and walking. On Sunday we just stayed home and did some much needed yard work. Logan had his buddy Shane come over to play for the day. When they were upstairs changing into swim trunks to run through the splash zone we built, I overheard Shane tell Logan, "You're my bestest buddy." That made me smile. Sunday night we had a great dinner with Matt's sister's family and then went to enjoy the last Concert in the Park of the season. All in all, a great weekend.

Then Monday rolled around. I really am enjoying work. I have a great group of kids and I'm doing a lot of after-school clubs and sports to keep me busy. Yet every time I pass Sawyer's school and see the other parents' cars, who I used to say hi to every morning, it just hits me again. So I cry nearly everyday to work, but then I walk into my classroom and I'm okay. Today though, during my prep period, I sat down to copy the school's master calendar events onto my own. Everything was fine until I got to June. I just started thinking about the start of summer vacation last June, and how perfect everything was. Every morning the boys would wake me up and immediately get changed into their swim trunks. They would swim all day long, and I would love watching them. It was really one of the only things they did together without fighting. Even when I would let them sneak into our bed at night, they would fight over who gets to sleep closest to Mommy. Sawyer would body slam Logan to get in between us, so I'd get stuck sandwiched in between the two until Matt got home from work to help me out. I don't ever regret having the pool. Sawyer loved swimming more than anything. I just regret everything else that day. Literally, everything. Every tiny little event that morning could've saved my baby. It's so frustrating to think about. So just sitting at work, thinking about how perfect everything was, and then remembering how short a time it lasted just brought me to tears again. Of course my poor Assistant Principal walked in as I was bawling, but he was right on cue with his "hilarious" jokes.

So life goes on. Some days definitely better than others, and those are the days we look forward to. Still missing you, still loving you, still wanting you back. Forever and always my baby you'll be.

Me: "You don't think you'll ever forget Sawyer, do you?"
Logan: "No, never. Besides we can't. When someone is in your heart, you never forget them. If you think you forgot about them, you didn't, you're just not thinking about them. You can't ever forget."

Such wise words from such a small boy. He keeps us going strong.

I haven't written in a while. It seems like I have nothing new to say. Work is in full swing now and other than being exhausted by the time I get home, it's nice to have some routine back in our lives. It's good for us to have something else to think about as well. I haven't had any students ask me about "the boys" yet, or comment on the pictures I have of both boys, though I only said I have my husband and beautiful son Logan at home. His pictures still catch my breath. I had to go to the cemetery yesterday to pay for the setting of Sawyer's little stone (which, on a side note, the funeral business is ridiculous when it comes to expenses). I visited with him for a while, and just ran my fingers through the grass, imagining it was his perfect golden hair. I told him the things I always do, but this time I asked him to come visit me at night more often. It's so hard to wake up from those dreams, but I still love them. I love being able to hold him, kiss him, tell him I love him. While life seems to be moving on, it still seems so unreal. I still can't believe this has happened to us, to him. It's just not fair to him. He loved life. I still can't stop myself from running through that day's events, noting each and every thing that we could have done differently, every little thing that could have changed this horrible after June 9 life we're living. I am only thankful that Logan is so strong. He is doing so well, absolutely loving first grade at his new school. He came home yesterday and said, "Mommy, today was the best day at school ever! We did so much plus-ing and minus-ing!" To each his own, right? I'm so proud of him. He still talks about Sawyer all the time, recalling on memories of him, and making sure that Heaven has bananas, because Sawyer loves them.

Well I received the letter I have been both dreading and looking forward to. Today it came from One Legacy, the organ donation company:

"As it was discussed at the hospital, even with all the tests we performed prior to the surgical recovery of the organs, the visualization and biopsy of organs during surgery are the final determinations as to whether the organ will be suitable for transplantation. Unfortunately, we were unable to transplant one of Sawyer's liver segments. We were, however, able to transplant Sawyer's second liver segment, both kidneys, and heart.

Sawyer's second liver segment was transplanted into a baby in California. With this gift of life, everyone is hopeful this baby girl will have a return to good health.

A California woman in her 40s is the recipient of Sawyer's right kidney. She is married, and the mother of two. The transplant center tells us her kidney function is good and she is now free from dialysis treatment.

The recipient of Sawyer's left kidney is another woman in her 40s in California. She volunteers for her church and enjoys singing. We are told her kidney is recovering well and she no longer needs dialysis after receiving treatment for over five years.

Sawyer's heart was transplanted into a child. The transplant took place in Colorado. With the transplant, everyone is hopeful this little boy will have a new healthy life."

Is it selfish to be sad that all organs didn't go to babies? I really want to see the little boy who lives on with Sawyer's heart too. Just a picture. As much as I want to know more, every time I'm reminded of what happened to Sawyer, the wound reopens.

I miss you baby. Please come and visit me tonight. I love you.

Well the first day of work has come and gone. I managed to hold it together just long enough for the presenter at our professional development training to show about 15 pictures and tell 23 stories of her beautiful, healthy, happy grandchildren...of which 9 of them are adorable little boys. She told a story about one of them having a learning disorder and the teacher telling the child that something is just wrong with his brain. So the child asks his grandma, "Do you think that when I'm sweating it's my brain crying?" That's when I lost it. I had to step out of the MPR for a few minutes to let myself go. Note to self - don't wear gray t-shirts anymore, my teardrops looked like I drooled all over myself. I do live in a great community and have a great support system at school, for which I am so grateful though. I have a great roster this year and a good schedule, so I think getting myself back into some kind of routine will be helpful. Plus, we just found out that Logan's good friend is in his first grade class with him. He definitely needs some time with friends, and to have the chance to focus on learning new things. Matt will also return to work on Monday.

 

So this new existence of "normal" life is beginning. Matt will take Logan to school for his first day of first grade (sometimes it stinks being a teacher, missing these little moments), and though I'm sad I won't be there to see him off, it will only remind me that we only have one little guy to drop off every morning from now on. We will leave our home, drive down to Logan's school, then drive by the preschool where Sawyer should be heading back to each and every morning. We're sad, devastated, depressed, but mostly, still so angry about it all. Why? Why our little boy? We were just swimming that morning, having a great time. He had his floaties on all morning and all throughout lunch. Why did we have to take them off out on the deck and not by the pool? Why did I not think about the ladder still being in the pool? Why did we not notice that he'd been out of site for so long? Why couldn't he have pushed off the bottom and taken a breath? Grab the ladder? Grab one of the noodles still floating in the pool? Why? Why? Why? I will never understand this. I will never believe that "things happen for a reason." I will never think that Heaven is a better place for him than my arms. I will never. I will never so many things, but most of all, I will never be the same. Our family will never be the same.

 

I have watched this video a million times. Every time I can only think that we were scheduled for swimming lesson in just a week. One more week.

Where has this summer gone? We had so many great summer vacation plans that just weren't able to happen. Right now we're in Colorado, visiting my sisters and attending our friends' wedding. For the first time since Sawyer's funeral we've had to leave Logan. He's at my sister's house, playing and having fun with cousins, while we're attending the wedding about 3.5 hours south. The first night away he called crying, saying that he wanted to be with us. We really almost hopped back in the car to drive the hours to go pick him up. He is still sleeping in our bed, mashed between Matt and I, each night. So this is the first time he hasn't been able to fall asleep with one of us rubbing his face or singing to him since Sawyer. It's hard for all three of us to not have him here. He did better last night though, so one more night away and then we'll be making the trip back to him. It's kind of funny, we try so hard as parents to keep our children out of our bed and in their own (which I admit, I was never very good at), but these last weeks, almost months now, we've wanted Logan by our side every second.

Gosh I can't believe it's been almost two months since that horrible day. I have dreams of him almost every night. In the last one, I was walking around his preschool playground, looking at all of the kids and knowing that I wouldn't find be able to Sawyer among them. Then I see a little boy, with perfectly straight white-blonde hair sitting with his back to me, playing with the same yellow truck that Logan tucked into Sawyer's casket with him. I stopped walking and just stared at this little boy, knowing that it couldn't be my Bam Bam, and then he turned his head to look at me and it was my baby. He got up and ran to me, saying "Mommy!" just like he used to do when I'd pick him up from preschool. I grabbed him and just held him, swinging him back and forth in my arms, forever. He never once tried to wiggle his way out of my arms and back down to the ground so he could run and grab his backpack and open the preschool door like he always had to. He was content in my arms, and I wouldn't have let him go for anything. But then I had to wake up. I always seem to have to wake up, no matter how happy I am in my dreams. I used to hate the nights, knowing that as soon as all movement and sound stopped, I'd be filled with visions of the day. Visions of what he was thinking, feeling, trying to say...nightmare visions. But now, I am able to close my eyes and know that he'll visit me in my dreams. Even though I'm usually conscious that he's gone in the dream, he is always there, alive and well and happy as always.

Happy as always. He was a pistol, but such a happy boy. He was so easy to please. What makes certain days harder than most are the days where we do things with Logan that I know Sawyer would just love. We took Logan on a gondola ride up in Breckenridge which Sawyer would have loved. He would have loved the giant bungee trampoline at the top that Logan bounced on. And yes, we would have paid another ridiculous $16 fee for a 5 minute bounce for him too. We went to Water World the other day. That was the hardest of all, because we all know his love for water play. Logan was scared to go on nearly every ride, but I could only imagine Sawyer dragging us from ride to ride, always wanting more excitement, more adventure, more fun. He was so fun, so happy, so perfect. We're still waiting for the days to get easier, but I am at least feeling somewhat content that my nights aren't filled with grief, anxiety, and fear anymore. I get to see him, happy, smiling, alive, in my dreams.

I love you to the moon and back baby. To infinity and beyond. Forever and Always.