Last night we were in bed, remembering.
When I was pregnant we used to play this little game with each other. I'd rub my belly, trying to find where he was hiding those little feet of his. They were always in a different spot, he moved around so much. Breech one day, head down the next. When I'd find him, I'd give my tummy a poke - and in an instant, he'd poke back. It was our special way of saying hi to each other.
One night, right before he was born, I couldn't fall asleep at all because of how uncomfortable things were getting with my growing stomach. I always slept on my side, with a pillow between my legs. But that night, my back was aching and all I wanted was to lay on my stomach. Somehow, I managed to lay halfway onto my tummy and quickly started to fall asleep. Sawyer, however, had other plans and was not happy being squished. He kicked. I didn't budge. He started to squirm. He got my attention. And eventually, he pushed and kicked so hard that he literally rolled me over himself. I sat up in bed, and laughed. Sawyer.
Whenever I would lay down in bed for a nap or at night, I always held Sawyer. Gently stroking my stomach, he would slow down his kicks and fall asleep with me.
The time we had with Sawyer was so agonizingly short. Through the tears and in the dark, we talked about our only wish - to hold him in our arms again.