Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Sawyer's Heart blog

For all that have been asking, you can read and learn more about Sawyer and his impact on all of us here:



Monday, August 30, 2010

The long nights, sad days

Dear Sawyer

I totally screwed up today. I let someone get the best of me. I let my overwhelming grief and yearning for you result in an angry tirade.

I never meant to hurt anyone. I was just upset that another mother could ever hate her beautiful child.

I think about you alone in your coffin. I know it is just your body but I worry about the winter. I worry about how cold it will get and if you'll be warm enough. The urge to hold you in my arms and just for one second look into your eyes will overwhelm me as long as my heart continues to beat.

And yet, others get to hate. How is any of this remotely fair?

Life is going on, I am still alive. It should have been me. Why God wasn't it me?

They say when the moment comes to ask these questions, that the answers won't matter. But, it's the waiting for that moment that is slowly eating away at my insides.

I love you. Every night I pray to you, do you hear me? I've fallen so far down the past few weeks. Looking toward your spirit for hope.

I love you.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

People I want to punch in the face (continued)

The Feminist Breeder has two boys. She's pregnant with #3. One recent morning, her son knocked her right between the eyes (accidentally). And she blogged that she - at that exact moment - had a "pure, unadulterated hatred" toward him.

Too bad her other son couldn't punch her in the face for me too.


***I really wouldn't punch anyone in the face. This is just an ongoing series featuring "JAMS" that sometimes need to know that a punch in the face can be an awakening.***

Friday, August 27, 2010

Supposed to be...........

didn't sleep at all last night.

i kept thinking about sawyer and the first time i was able to see him. how soft he felt, and i kept talking to him over and over (in that sing-song voice only a mother can do) so that he knew it was me.

"sawyer? it's me, mommy. it's mommy. i love you sawyer."

i dont even know if he heard me, because of all the drugs. i don't even know what color his eyes were. and i had hope, for about what? 8 hours??

he's supposed to be here, he's supposed to be here - that's all i think about.

Thursday, August 26, 2010


Is kind of shocked that the lady from the March of Dimes office told me that Sawyer died because "everything happens for a reason."

And then threw in a "stop crying" while handing me a preemie diaper and a bag of rice that weighed as much as Sawyer to put on display for our walk.


The lady from the MARCH OF DIMES office.

Definitely adding that one to my list of "People That Need A Punch In The Face."

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Gone fishing

We've been really sad the past week or two. Erik and I know Sawyer's due date is looming and I think we both need it to come, and quietly go. With every important date or anniversary, there is anticipation now. You think it will be better once it's over. It's not.

Today, we finally were able to drag ourselves out of the house for Sadie's sake and made a pretty good day out of it.

Went to the pool, had a nice dinner. Then we went on a bike ride and went fishing for the first time since the summer before Sadie was born. It was simple, and most of all, it was safe.

There are so many people who assume they know what's best for me. I know where I need to be and I'm very aware of the places that I shouldn't.

I know there are a lot of people who want me to be happy. Want me to smile without feeling guilty. Guess what? SO WOULD I.

But that's the thing about grief. You have absolutely no control over it. It's an ocean of waves that ebb in and out. And you are held prisoner to what wave decides to sweep itself ashore from one day to the next. Some are big, and some are small - but every single day for the rest of my life - I know that the waves will be lapping against the shore. Always present, and a permanent part of me.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I caught a lot of fish along the shore tonight.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

My Mammers

I haven't taken the time to write about Sadie much since everything happened. She's growing by leaps and bounds - talking in sentences, not just scattered words. She can recognize her own name in print, loves to show her creative and artistic side and is gifted with music.

Since Sawyer passed away, I've had a very short fuse with Mammers and I feel terribly guilty about it. She deserves a better mommy right now, not the scatter-brained zombie that I've turned into.

She's taken everything quite well. With a few exceptions, I really feel that she truly understands that Sawyer is not coming home. For a while there, she thought he just wasn't here - but would be home soon. That was hard.

One of her favorite things to do this summer is swim. When we put her "floaties" on her arms, *OMG* she completely turns into a little fish! She doesn't want anyone's help and swims on her own in Grandpa's pool. She can even hold her breath and go under the water. And she's only two and a half!

Speaking of her age. She's halfway to three years old and nothing like the baby I once knew. She is a little girl. Obsessed with playing dishes and watching "Prin-shesh" movies. She is blossoming right before my eyes - and I've missed a lot of it. I literally woke up one morning and was amazed at her growth and transformation.

She plays so well. Her little imaginative mind races when she plays with her dollhouse and toys. She builds castles with her blocks and feeds her stuffed kitty with our real cat's food.

When we are out in public and she plays on the playground or in a playroom at the store - I get so sad, so quickly. She is alone and she shouldn't be. She is a big sister to her father and I, but to passerby, she's an only child. And that makes my heart heavy. I pray to God that someday, he will bless us with another brother or sister for Sadie. Erik and I grew up surrounded by our siblings - and I only want the same for her.

So, in a nutshell, Mammers is turning into quite the little lady. And I'm proud of her in ways I never could have imagined before. Now, if we could just get that potty thing down...