Hi baby,

I haven't written in awhile. Things have been crazy at work and home. Busy is good. Busy doesn't give us too much time to think or cry. You would like the new kitchen, it's very pretty, but you would hate the new fridge. It'd be so hard for you to get inside and take out all the snacks you used to. You'd also be disappointed in the back yard. Since you've left we hardly ever go out there. Logan doesn't play much outside anymore. I think he gets lonely and just wants to stay next to Mommy and Daddy. Your puppies have taken over and started digging everywhere too! I need your help to tell them, "No! Bad daw!" Daddy needs help picking up all the poop too. You were the best at pointing it out, making sure we got all of the piles. I went out and picked it up the other day, and there were about 7 dandelions out there, wishing you were here to pluck them up and shake them out. Logan took care of a couple of them.

We're coming up on our third holiday without you here. I don't think Thanksgiving will be as hard as 4th of July or Halloween were since you never really liked turkey, or sitting down to formal dinners (or sitting down ever). I do have a little turkey decoration that I will bring to your beautiful stone next Wednesday though. I'll read you a Thanksgiving story too - and hopefully I can do a better job at getting the whole story out than I did last time. We're still waiting for it to get easier.  It's been almost six months, half a year, already, and it feels like it. It's been so long since I've held you. We keep moving on with our daily lives - waking up, getting ready, going to work, and every step in between. I pass by your pre-school everyday and wish I was one of those cars in the parking lot, dropping you off with your toast and smoothie. That always makes the drive to work so hard. One of these days soon I will be in that parking lot again, but it won't be the same. I wish you could see how big Mommy's belly is getting. Logan and Daddy are starting to be able to see and feel your baby brother moving and kicking around. I know you would have loved to snuggle next to me with your hand on my belly. I can just see your big blue eyes going wide when you'd feel him kick. I wish I could see you as a big brother. You'd be perfect. We still haven't decided what your baby brother's first name will be, but Sawyer will definitely be his middle name. He will have just that small piece of you. We are getting more anxious to welcome this little guy into our lives, no matter how scared we are. Now that I'm starting to show though, so many tough questions come our way. "Is this your first?" No it's our third. "Oh wow, boys or girls?" All three boys. "Wow that's a challenge. Were you trying for a girl?" No...but I can't tell them why. "How old are your others?" And then I'm stuck...6 and 2, or 6 and he should be 3, but he never made his third birthday? It's so hard answering questions about you. I can talk to people I know about you all day long (and I often do), but whenever a stranger asks, I just freeze. I feel like I'm lying no matter what I say. Someone actually said the other day, "Woa two boys wasn't enough?" And though he was joking, I wanted to say, "Yes! My two boys were perfect. I was completely content with two boys. We never had plans for another, but things were changed. Horrible things happened and there's nothing we can do about it." But of course I just ended up giving my fake laugh that I've grown so accustomed to. I'm sorry baby. I never imagined we'd ever have to go through anything like this.

I don't have much more to say. I just want you to know that you continue to be on my mind, every day, every night. I miss you as much today as I did the first day you were gone. I want you to come visit me at night again. I love hearing your voice and seeing your face. I love seeing your smiles in my dreams because it's so hard for me to picture you anywhere but that stupid pool when I'm awake. That will always haunt me, and though everyone wishes we would stop blaming ourselves, we just can't. I'm so sorry baby. We let you down and we'll never forgive ourselves for it. I miss you and love you so much. So much Sawyer. I love you to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond, forever and always. <3 <3 <3

Some more of my favorites...

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.

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.