Many have asked that I post the letter I wrote for Logan at his funeral. So, I’ve decided to post it here. I took footnotes each day Logan was alive and the few days after he passed. Then spent a whole day putting it to paper. There was so much more I could’ve and wanted to say. It’s not possible for pen and paper to show the extent of what I felt for Logan, what I still feel for him.
Oh my sweet baby boy. I sit here on the couch trying to hold in my tears so that I can write you this letter. I have so many thoughts and emotions I’m not sure I can put them all to paper, but I will try.
My sweet child, you gave me 14 days. 14 days! I never imagined I would get that. You defied everyone. But you sure gave mom plenty of scares along the way. When you were born, I heard your whimper. But then you were quiet, I wept, for I feared we were going to lose you before we left the OR. The Dr said you weren’t breathing right, like you needed to. Your dad placed you on my chest. We were face to you face you and I. You had your feet kicking my face, it was like you had wrapped your entire body around my face. I didn’t care, I wanted all of you. You were so handsome, I couldn’t take my eyes or my hands off of you. After a little time went by, you pinked up and started breathing better, we were in sync.
Your first day of life was so eventful. So many people who love you came to see you and support you. Your big brother is obsessed with you. From the day you were created in my womb he loved you. Even after you passed away he still comes home and asks about you. The love and the bond you two have simultaneously breaks and molds my heart. I cry for his loss of you at such a young age. I cry for what you boys could’ve been. He would have been the best big brother you could have ever asked for. He IS the best big brother.
That night and for many nights to follow you would have a subtle change and dad and I would spend the nights grieving you, waiting. We just knew it was coming, but didn’t know when as nobody can. My heart would break over and over, and then you’d surprise me and live another day. Your fight was so crazy beautiful.
You wore one outfit your entire life, and it was for 30 minutes. As soon as we got home I took it off, not being able to be separated from you for even one second. Our time at home continued that way. You and I were inseparable. On the occasion your dad did get to hold you, I was on the sidelines in a panic. I couldn’t handle the anxiety that came with not being close to you. It was like I needed you and you needed me. We spent 11 days of your life skin to skin, breaking contact only so I could go to the bathroom or occasionally shower. As gross as it sounds I skipped showers so that I wouldn’t lose anytime with you. Most often I even ventured to take you to the bathroom with me, simply because I couldn’t and didn’t want to let you go.
Your last few days, I swaddled you in the same blanket you’d been covered in your whole life. It smelt like your sweat and my sweat. It smelt like breast milk. It was a messy blanket, with a spot of poop here or there, a breast milk stain, and tears. But it smelt like us. It smelt like you and me. You were so tiny, I could see all your bones under your skin. It made me cry to see you that way. I hoped the blanket would give you some cushion and you would still feel close to me because of the smell of our blanket.
I try to tell myself I did everything I could’ve possibly done to keep you comfortable and above all, loved. You seemed to thrive on my chest, so I laid on my back for 14 days so that you could be supported on me. I would even change your diapers while you were still lying on my chest. I would set an alarm and wake up every 2 hours to turn you from side to side so that you wouldn’t get pressure points on your body that was slowly fading away. I gave you drops of breastmilk and massaged your cheeks to try and give you any nutrition I could. At the end you wouldn’t close your mouth or your eyes and they’d get so dry. I spent much time swabbing your mouth and massaging eye drops into your eyes. I hope you never forget, how hard I tried.
We spent so much time reading, I like to think you could hear every word I said. Sometimes you’d be asleep and it would be quiet in the house, and when I spoke your eyes would open wide. I loved when you opened your eyes. It was like you could see right through me. When I would cry and look at you, I’d tell you to remember me for more than my ugly cry face. I kissed you everywhere, everyday, all day. Sometimes you’d even roll your eyes while I was kissing you. But I didn’t care. I wanted to shower you with my love. I had a lifetime of love to give you in just 14 short days. It was not enough time.
I gave you, your first bath after you passed. I put lotion on you and dressed you in pajamas. I swaddled you, cried over you, laid in bed with you. I held you in the car all the way to the funeral home. I cried when we got out of the car. I wasn’t ready for goodbye. I’m not ready for goodbye now. I know it’s just your body here, and your soul is up in Heaven. But my heart is still here and until we meet again, my heart will never be whole again. You were stitched into my soul when you were created, and you took that with you when you left.
I look over your pictures that were taken, and I’m in awe of your beauty. You are so handsome. So much so it makes my heart swell so full it hurts. It pains me to admit, I’ve already started to forget. I’m praying its just the lack of sleep and the amount of stress and grief I’m under. And that once I’ve had time to cope, it’ll all come back to me. I watched a video from the day you were born yesterday, and I forgot how sweet your voice sounds! You never cried at home, but I’m glad I have these video’s to remind me of your beautiful voice.
I walk around the house and all I see is you. I see you everywhere. I saw your body today at the funeral home. You looked so handsome. I think back over our time spent together and I wish I could go back and give you so much more. How do I condense a lifetime into 14 short days? I mourn for our future, for what could have and should have been. I want you back.
I cry at the most random things. I made coffee this morning, and the smell reminded me of every morning when I drank coffee while holding you in my arms. It resonates as a bonding moment for us, odd, since you didn’t drink coffee.
Your brother held you oh so delicately yesterday. Cradled in his lap, wrapped in his Iron Man arms. He caressed your face, your hair. He checked you over to make sure you were still okay. He was so perfectly content with you, even after you’re gone. The amount of love he has for you, will never diminish. It’s the purest love I’ve ever seen. You are forever apart of him.
Your dad is so proud of you. The look on his face the day you were born, was that of pure joy. You look just like him and big brother. You are his prodigy. He had been looking forward to your arrival since we found out we were pregnant. He planned our life. He was devastated when we learned of your diagnosis. But he never loved you any less. He’s struggling now, now that you’re gone. He misses you so, and wished you hadn’t gone. He tries to tell me he’s okay, but I can see the longing in his eyes. The cuddles that never were. The missed opportunities of playing catch, teaching you how to fix cars and motorcycles, and how to ride your bike.
I tried to smuggle your body out of the funeral home, but was informed that wouldn’t be very legal. I tried to convince everyone we could set your room up and you could just live at home. I could cuddle you and talk to you whenever I wanted. Holding you in my arms brought me comfort, you fit so perfectly nestled in my arms. A moment I’ll yearn for the rest of my life.
I find it beautifully poetic that you chose to leave us on such a special day. Our wedding anniversary. How beautiful for you to chose a day that is so meaningful, so amazing. A day of love. The day your dad and I got married was beautiful. Had we not gotten married, we wouldn’t have you or your big brother. What better way to say goodbye that on that special of a day. I know you couldn’t possibly know that was when we got married, so I’m lead to believe that God was helping you through this.
You have so much family up there in Heaven with you. I hope they are showering you with the love I want to give you each and every day. Nobody can love you like momma, but they sure as better try. Your dad and I have conversations about what your life in Heaven will be like. I wonder if you will stay a 14 day old baby, for the rest of your life? Or will you grow and mature and have a life better than you would’ve here on earth? When I meet you again, will you still be my little baby, or a full grown man? My hope is that you get to enjoy life in Heaven, surrounded by loving family.
My love for you Logan, is immeasurable. I always thought I couldn’t love another child as much as I love Wyatt. I was wrong. The swell in my heart is so grand. You and Wyatt are my life. Without you here, I’m not sure how to function. How does life go on, when something so unnatural happens? I hope that each and everyday that goes by, you can feel my love all the way up there. Not a day will go by that I don’t long for you. I am told that you have touched many lives beyond what we could’ve ever imagined, and I hope that the people that are here today to celebrate your life, stand as a testament to that fact. You are loved by many my sweet baby.
So I ask this of you, my son. My sweet pumpkin pie. As you sit in Heaven and watch over us. Please don’t forget us. Don’t forget the love we shared, the love we still share everyday. Keep your big brother in line, tell him to be nice to your momma. Wrap your arms around your dad, he misses you so much. He tries to hide it, but your dad is a big softy. He’s never loved anything more than he loves the 3 of us. And find a way to be with me each and every day sweet baby. Momma needs you. Momma misses you. Momma loves you.
I’d like to leave you with this my sweet boy. A poem I found, that seems so fitting for us. While nothing will ever tell of what’s between us, this is a small representation.
“I could only be grateful when I realized that I would rather have known you for a moment than never at all. I would rather endure this inexplicable pain of outliving you than to never have seen your face, spoken your name. I would rather be yours, and you be mine, regardless. Regardless of the sorrow, the sleepless nights, and the years I will walk this earth, carrying you in my heart.”