1 year, 3 months and 26 days

It still feels like yesterday.

Now and then

I haven't found the time to write here in so long. We have been so busy. Planning the memory walk, getting Sadie off to school for the first time, and - of course - taking care of a new baby.

And along with all the craziness that each day brings, there is Sawyer.

Always there. Always in my heart. Always on my mind.

Landon looks so much like Sawyer that I often find myself trying not to look at his face while he's asleep. That is when the familiarity is all-too real. Erik shared with me the same fears - they look so much alike that a few times we've both thought Landon was dead in his sleep, with the same peaceful face his brother kept.

And yet, here we are.

Going through the motions of life. Somehow moving farther past the moment in our lives when he was here - time growing between now and then like a gaping wound that will never heal.

If I only knew...

I thought we were doing well.

Today, was hard. Such a small word to describe the enormous pain of reliving every moment of one tiny life.

I feel so much guilt.

We were getting ready to go to bed and I couldn't remember if I prayed the night before he died. I looked at Erik - my eyes filling with tears, "Did I even pray? I must not have prayed hard enough."

How many times did we visit the NICU on his second day? Was it really only three? What kind of mother visits her sick, premature son only three times in an entire day? I never should have left his side. I wouldn't have ever left his side if I knew...

The last visit we had with him was perfect. I held onto his tiny hand and stroked his delicate cheek. I remember talking with his nurse, we were all so hopeful for Sawyer.

The last thing I said to my baby was that I was sorry for not being there more. That every single day I would be able to visit longer and longer as my body healed from the c-section.

It was so hard to leave him that night because he looked so good. His color, his stats - he was stable for the first time since he was born. We went to sleep with peaceful minds, thinking that we had better rest up because the coming weeks and months that were ahead of us were going to be long.

If I only knew...

Sawyer's first birthday

We let balloons go for you.

Sadie gave you a beautiful windchime with tiny dragon flies.

Mommy and Daddy read poems. We all sang "Happy Birthday" and watched as a hawk circled gracefully above.

After dinner, we went back to the cemetery. It was dusk. The sky turning from dark blue to black right before our eyes. Instant stars twinkling in the night sky.

I had to go back. I told you how sorry I was that on the day you were born, we never had the chance to see you. If I only knew Sawyer, I would have never left your side. I would have stayed with you every second of your tiny life and held your hand.

I know you are safe. I saw where you went, and each day here on earth is just one closer to being with you again. All of our love...

One year

Happy 1st Birthday Sawyer.

Tuesday morning

Today felt like the day.

Tuesday.

The day after Memorial Day.

A trip up to the hospital.

The last time we did the exact same thing on the exact same day, it all started.

I was awoken out of my sleep when my water broke. I was half-dazed, walking to the bathroom and could feel my pants starting to soak with fluid. I thought I had urinated on myself at first.

When I turned the light on, I looked down to notice that my pants were tinged with a pinkish color. I smelled them. It smelled like nothing at all. I knew what happened.

Erik had been sleeping on the couch because he had a terrible cough just like me. I punched him hard in the back to wake him up. I had him smell my pants too. Same thing, nothing.

I was terrified and shaking. Erik called my mom and told her she needed to get to the house, now. I - and I still have no idea why - took a shower. I felt that I absolutely had to take a shower first before we could leave. Besides, we had time - no one was here yet to watch Sadie.

While I was in the shower, Erik had tried to call our friends - Carrie and Mike - a few times (they live just a few doors down from us) but there wasn't an answer. So he ran down to their house and rang their doorbell until someone came downstairs. Carrie was here just minutes later as we were ready to walk out the door.

I will never forget how scared I was at that exact moment - Carrie gave me a huge hug.

I remember the sound of my shoes as they pounded down the stairs out to the garage. I remember driving in the darkness and silence all the way to Chicago. I remember Erik pulling into the parking garage, desperately telling the attendant that I was in labor - where do we park? I remember, with each contraction, thinking that we were never going to make it to the hospital.

We did make it. And for that time, we were still okay - together. Three hearts beating.

May 29th, 2010

The last picture taken of me while Sawyer was still safe inside my womb. A blurry picture taken with Erik's phone. I was happy here. Happy because I could just lay back and listen to his tiny heart "woosh" with every beat. Little did we know, just how broken it was.

One year ago, my sister was having a birthday party for her son, he was turning three. Erik had just picked up Sadie the night before from my mom's house - that's where she was staying while I was home on bedrest.

I was so excited to see Sadie and even more excited for a long holiday weekend together. The days sitting here by myself were really starting to get to me. I was trying so hard to stay positive even though I knew something was just not right.

My sister had called to try and convince me to come along with Erik and Sadie to the birthday party. I wanted to go, so badly. But I was on strict orders from the doctor to stay put. My sister even offered to make up a place on the couch for me in her den, and bring me food or whatever I needed as the party went on - but, I didn't want to be stuck in the house, on a beautiful day with everyone feeling sorry for me. Alone, yet still surrounded by everyone. So, Erik headed off with Sadie to the party without me.

While I sat at home by myself I couldn't help but notice that something wasn't right with Sawyer. He was making his kick counts (10 within an hour) but the thing is, he wasn't exactly kicking. He was barely moving. Just enough for me to notice, but not enough to make me feel that he was okay.

We had known that my fluid was very low for the past month. I tried to relate that to the reason why he wasn't moving the way I felt he should be. But something in my heart kept telling my head to worry. And that's what I did.

I called over to the party and talked with my sister - crying between sentences, overwhelmed with dread. She said I shouldn't worry, and to call the doctor just in case.

Then, I called my sister-in-law who is a NICU nurse and explained to her how I felt. She has this very gentle way with words, and highly suggested I just go ahead and call the hospital. I needed that encouragement. I needed to know that what I was feeling made sense in some way.

By the time Erik came home and put Sadie to bed a few hours later, we were on our way to the University of Chicago. When I arrived, the standard tests were done. NST, BPP and everything checked out perfectly. The resident who took care of us that stormy late-spring night, reassured me that coming in wasn't a mistake. That she'd rather see us here and be wrong, than stay home and be right.

Two days later - she delivered our son, limp and gray, after my placenta abrupted.

Time in my heart

It's almost a year.

I don't want it to be a year. Or two years. Or ten. I don't ever want anyone to forget you.

I just want more time.

I miss you Sawyer. I love you. I'll never be the same without you.

Holding on to what I have

Yesterday was a particularly hard one for me and Erik.

I'm not sure why. It wasn't a significant date and there was no specific reason. The sadness just hung over us.

I could hear Erik in the kitchen late last night, humming a song that we both sang to Sawyer as he died - "You Are My Sunshine" - and he had a chair turned, facing out the window. He was looking at Sawyer's angel turning colors in the dark. I don't know if he knew that I could hear him, but I did. And I left him alone. You learn that about grief. That your spouse sometimes, needs that space to just be. And you grow together in learning how it all works. We grieve so differently, and at other times - we're right in sync with each other.

I crawled into Sadie's bed in the middle of the night. I needed to feel her against me. Know that she was safe and warm. I do that a lot. I can feel my broken heart pounding inside of me so powerfully when I do this...

Because when I yearn for Sawyer, there's nothing to hold against my chest. No cheek to stroke or hair to smooth.

I hold Sadie and I'm grateful. And I pray that nothing ever takes her away from me.

The sun is out today and we didn't talk about anything last night. The mood is softer, Sadie makes us laugh. And a new baby is persistantly kicking me all day long.

The hope mixed with the grief. The love pouring out over the loss.

Loss and hope

A friend that I haven't seen in a really long time came over for a visit today with her three boys.

Our kids had fun terrorizing each other and making a mess. And as mothers - we were constantly refereeing the mayhem.

In between the yelling and the playing, my friend asked me about my pregnancy. Questions about how I was feeling and what it was like to be pregnant again so soon after losing Sawyer.

Everytime a question came up, one of our children were about to hurl themselves off a chair or decided that the toy somebody else had was worth beating each other up over.

Amidst our shouts of discipline, I didn't really get a chance to answer...

But the thing is, she asked me things that no one ever asks - questions that I think a lot of people are afraid to ask.

But, at that moment, it meant the world to me that someone was acknowledging my pain, my loss - and my hope.

Always heavy

Today is one of those days where I could just cry forever.

The more this baby grows inside of me, the more I miss him.

Two days. Not even two days.

I held him while he died. I held him for his entire life - the end of his life.

It doesn't stop. It doesn't stop.

Time does not make it easier. The person who said that is wrong. It's bullshit.

The weight of the grief? Is always the same. Maybe some days, it's easier to pick up - but the size never changes. It's always heavy.

Please, help us save babies

Each year since Sadie's birth, we have joined the March of Dimes to promote a healthy start for babies everywhere. On our third anniversary of the March for Babies, this year's walk means more to us than we could have ever imagined.

This year, we walk in memory of our son, Sawyer.

For the first time, we are joining the Joliet March for Babies and I will be there as a special guest to promote support and awareness for pregnancy and infant loss as well as speaking about prevention.

I know times are tough, but what the March of Dimes does for our babies goes beyond the NICU. When Sawyer died, the March of Dimes personally contacted our family to lend their support through bereavement materials and pure love.

A huge reason we continue to support the March of Dimes is that they support grants that fund Congenital Heart Defect research. A CHD took the life of our son, and thousands of babies and children each year. Did you know that TWICE as many babies and children will die from a CHD than from ALL forms of childhood cancer...COMBINED. Those numbers have to change, so that another family doesn't have to let their child go, just like we did.

Please take a moment and consider donating to our team this year "Sawyer's Heart Heroes" - any amount helps greatly, and we appreciate EVERY donation. So please, help us honor Sawyer's brief life and the lives of all other babies gone too soon.

Just follow this link to make your secure donation. And again - Thank you. http://www.marchforbabies.org/mktarrant

Life, without him

Sometimes, I wish the people who knew me the most could really see how we face life every day without our son.

It will never get better than what it is right now.

The hole in my heart will never heal.

I will never forget.

They say that time heals all wounds...

But one thing time cannot do, is erase the scars that those wounds leave behind.

Retreating

Life is so busy.

No time to sit here and really write what runs through my mind. I have a journal that I keep on my dresser. When a thought comes, I jot it down as quickly as I can so that I have it forever.

The memories aren't as vivid any more. I hate that.

I find myself drifting a bit. Away from family and friends. Wanting to just be alone with what I have now and needing time to consume all of it.

The fog of our nightmare, however, is lifting. The heavy pain heaped upon my shoulders is beginning to become more bearable to carry.

There are days when out of nowhere, a certain feeling creeps back into my stomach and heart. That sensation of feeling like you've been kicked in the stomach. Realizing that all of this did happen to you.

Sadie has been talking about her brother a lot. I wonder if he visits her in dreams or in beautiful fall sunsets. When I asked her what she wanted for Christmas a few days ago she said, "My baby brother."

How does a mother answer that? There isn't an answer.

A mother smiles through the tears, hugs her daughter and says "I do too sweetie. I do too."

It's almost six months.

Six months.

Sawyer's treat

Sawyer gave us a treat when we went to visit him today. His headstone was finally placed. Happy Halloween to my little pumpkin - we miss you.

Heaven's Sky

Erik took Sadie to the park this morning.

She asked him if she could go on the swings and while he was pushing her Sadie said, "I want to go high in the sky like my baby brother."

Erik gently explained to her that she can't do that because her baby brother is in heaven. Sawyer was very sick and he had a broken heart.

Erik started to cry and Sadie said, "Don't be sad Daddy."

She always says that when we cry.

"There is no footprint too small..."

Sawyer's flowers, casket

A Walk To Remember 2010

Today was moving, powerful and beautiful.

Over 150 people came out to support our first annual "A Walk To Remember" in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.

The idea to start a walk sprouted up just two months ago when we learned there were no events locally to remember our babies. Erik came home from work that night and I told him, "I want to do this. I want to do it for Sawyer and I want to do it for every other parent who has lost a baby."

Less than 24 hours later, we booked a site for the walk and the next two months we poured our blood, sweat and LOTS of tears into making this day a success.

By our early calculations, we have raised well over $3,000 for Angels of Hope - NFP, Inc. This local non-profit organization supports bereaved families, assists parents who can't afford burial costs for their children and provides funding toward families who are in need of IVF treatment but cannot afford the cost. We are so happy to say that our goal of raising $1,000 was met and exceeded beyond our expectations!

This morning as we began to load our vehicles, Erik and I were standing in the driveway when a giant red-tailed hawk swooped down so low you could see his face. He gracefully soared right through our front yard, over our heads and then down the street. I never in my life have seen a hawk fly so low to the ground like that. There is no doubt in my mind that it was Sawyer's way of saying hello to us and he continued to visit us throughout the day.

We had such amazing success with our silent auction and raffle. T-shirt sales were through the roof and the kids loved painting pumpkins, hopping around in the inflatable jumper, face painting and LOTS of cupcakes.

The weather was breezy, warm and beautiful. As we neared the end of our walk the sun began to dip lower in the sky - warm, bright rays shooting out from behind the clouds. It was breathtaking.


We had a remembrance table upon the top of a hill, decorated with little pumpkins and gourds - where each family placed a flower when their baby's name was called. After the walk was over, Erik and I took all of the flowers, gently placing them in the river behind the pavillion and watched them slowly drift away with the current.


I am so thankful to our many friends and family who came out today to help - sisters, cousins, friends, family and neighbors. To our walk committee who has been working so hard to get this walk accomplished in such a short amount of time - We thank you so graciously.


To my friend Carrie - without you I couldn't have done any of this. She was my never-ending support and friend during the entire planning process. I always say she was the last one to hug our "lil Sawyer" when we were rushing off to the hospital at 4 a.m. the day he was born. Again Carrie, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

To my husband, Erik. I never could have accomplished this without your support and constant love.

To all of you - the mothers and fathers of our angels and their sisters, brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends - Thank you for making today so beautiful.

And to my Sawyer - we love you so much and your short, beautiful life has touched so many. Today we were able to share in our grief and grow from the love you have shown us. Your spirit keeps us going. We miss you. We love you.

Today is for you.

Today is "A Walk To Remember" and this undoubtedly goes without saying but if it wasn't for my beautiful baby with his perfect, broken heart - none of this would be happening today.

Sawyer - It's been four months. Four months.

I don't know how we made it to here and every day, your father and I question where "here" is and whether or not we will ever find that place.

I carry you in my heart with each sunrise and each sunset. Each glimpse of a rainbow or the morning dew. As each leaf turns its brilliant color and falls to the ground.

Today, is for you.