Author: loveforlogan

Logan is 1 month old today. I chose to speak in the here, instead of what he would be. I will forever spend the rest of my life discussing him in what he would be. So instead I chose to represent my son as if he is here, because let’s be honest, he IS here with us everyday. I woke up early this morning and I had this strong smell on my hands, I sat up quickly when I realized they smelled like Logan. I’ve been awake since, just randomly sniffing my hands (probably a good thing I’m at home). Call me whatever you want, but I probably won’t wash my hands for the rest of the day. I’m sniffing them now, and it’s as if I just laid him down, the smell is so strong. Maybe my brain is playing a trick on me since today is a significant day. But it’s a beautiful thing. I feel as if today, might be a hard day. All day yesterday, I had this underlying anxiety attack. I was dodging sink holes, just waiting for the next one to swallow me.

As I’ve mentioned before, I sleep on the couch now. Anytime I try to lay in bed, I lay there wide awake on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the next rabbit hole waiting for me to jump or fall in. Last night, I’m on the couch as usual, and Wyatt comes out to lay with me. The couch isn’t really big enough for the two of us, and he tries to convince me to go to bed. When his persistence fails, he crawls onto the oversized chair next to the couch and falls asleep. I feel so guilty not being able to give him the same mom I was before Logan passed. We cuddled all the time in bed. And now he seems to be going through his own struggle. He can’t sleep without me or dad. When Josh goes to work at night, Wyatt comes out to get me. People say, at least I got to come home to Wyatt after Logan passed, I’m still a parent. But really? Am I? Because I feel like I’m letting him down. Just because I’m a parent doesn’t mean losing Logan meant any less. If anything it feels harder because I can’t be the same parent I was. I’m trying my hardest to be what Wyatt needs me to be and to wander through my own grief.

Some days I see reason, other days I see anger. I feel the longer we’ve been home, the more angry days I have. The more reason doesn’t make sense. I feel as if I’ve gone back in time to before we got pregnant. As if the last 9 months haven’t happened. I see Logan’s picture and yet he doesn’t feel like my son. As if I’m in this alternate reality, just looking in at someone else’s life. It’s the most bizarre thing sometimes. I can’t help but feel like he is with me today. Why else would my hands smell so strongly of him? I’m trying to take comfort in that as I navigate through today.

After some thought, and discussion with Josh, we’ve decided to keep this GoFundMe page up. Not so much as a source for fundraising. But more for those of you who want to continue to follow this journey we’re on. Plus, I’m not ready to say goodbye. I feel as if this GoFundMe gave Logan a voice. A journal into his life. And by closing it, makes me feel like I’m closing his voice. And I’m not ready for that.

Sunday was a very rough day for me. I fell into a rabbit hole (my anxiety attacks) and I couldn’t for the life of me crawl out. I sat and cried for I don’t know how long. I finally broke down and went and bout a recliner I had picked out for Logan before we knew of his diagnosis. I didn’t care how irresponsible it was, all I knew wasI just needed it. I came home and removed anything from his room that didn’t belong to him. (When we found out he wasn’t going to live long, I tore down the nursery and returned everything, and the room kind of became a storage area). I had already gone through his stuff the day before. So I set up the Pack N Play we used for his stuff while he was home (it used to be Wyatt’s Pack N Play). I moved his funeral flowers in the corner. The room looked like a nursery again. I sat in the recliner, and rocked. Just looking around the room. I sat there for at least 2 hours before I got up.The house was empty except for me and the dogs. I looked around and thought this is what it was supposed to be like. I felt peace for the first time that day. I only left the room to grab my journal, and I came right back to the chair and sat and wrote for a while longer. Wyatt came home, saw what I did in Logan’s room, he grabbed his journal I bought him and sat on the floor in front the Pack N Play and wrote a letter to Logan. He stayed in the room for at least an hour after I left it. I have been in here several times since Sunday. It gives me a place to go see Logan. A place of his own. We don’t have a grave since we cremated. But I have his ashes that I can hold and rock. I have his stuffed animals that I can hold and rock. I am simply satisfied just sitting here and rocking.

Wyatt had a rough night last night. He crawled into our bed with all of Logan’s animals. I had stayed in the living room, as I haven’t been able to sleep in my room since Logan passed. I had heard Wyatt pressing Logan Bear’s hand (It plays Logan’s heartbeat). He came out to me crying. I just held him and let him cry it out. Once he finished he sat with me in silence for a bit until I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He told me he just missed his baby brother. And I told him I do too. I told him he could hold his ashes whenever he wanted. He’s having a very hard time grasping the concept of cremation. We’ve explained a few times.

We got Logan’s ashes on Monday. And I can’t tell you how excited I was to have my baby boy home again.

 

Facebook posts…

The other day after setting Logan’s room back up, I sat down to journal through my rabbit hole (as I like to call them). Wyatt asked if he could join me and I said of course. He came back with his journal, sat down on the floor and began to write something to his baby brother. This was probably the best thing I’ve done for my family. We have a place to go “see” Logan now. We can go to his room and rock him, talk to him. I know it helps with my anxiety (rabbit holes) and it obviously helps Wyatt through his .

We want to take this time to sincerely thank everyone who has been apart of this journey. To those who have supported us financially on and off the GoFundMe page. To those who have prayed for us continually through this journey and even now. To those who came to the viewing and the funeral. I can’t tell you enough how much it meant to us that you came to our celebration of Logan’s life. Thank you for honoring and respecting him. Thank you to those who continually reach out and check in on us, to let us know you’re there and willing to listen should we need anything. It’s such a relief and blessing to know we have such amazing people supporting us; caring for us.

Thank you to those who have taken time out of their lives to provide our family with meals and groceries. It’s been such a blessing to not have to navigate through the grocery store or worry about preparing meals.

If I’m being honest, one of my biggest Thank You’s has to go to those who have helped us financially. While we weren’t able to use the money for medical bills like originally hoped. We were able to use the money to take this time off work and spend with Logan. Without your support we wouldn’t have been able to do so. With your help we were able to give Logan the funeral he deserved. With your help, Josh and I were able to “runaway” to a remote location and sit with each other and grieve and talk without the distractions of the outside world. We were able to focus on ourselves and each other. To paved the foundation for healing within ourselves and each other, so that we could come home and continue to grieve, heal and be there and guide our son Wyatt through his grief. That was priceless time for us. Had we not gone away, I don’t believe Josh and I would be as strong as we are right now in this moment. Coming home yesterday was a real struggle for us both. As all our memories of Logan are at home. As it stands, I sleep on the couch, I can’t bring myself to be in my room for too long, it makes me uneasy. I have another journey ahead. But the important thing is, I’m well enough to be Wyatt’s mom each day. And through all this, I’ve tried to remember even though Logan has left me, Wyatt is still here. So thank you for giving us that gift.

Please in no way think that what you have done for us is any less important because I didn’t put as much emphasis on it like the things above. Anything you have done or continue to do shows us you care and love us. Even something as simple as just saying “hi I love you” or “how are you” or “thinking of you” are so vitally important to us. It keeps us grounded. It shows us the life boat God has provided in this storm. So please, don’t think we aren’t appreciate of every little thing you do. And pleas, don’t say nothing at all. It is more painful to not hear from those who are important to us. If you don’t know what to say, just tell us that. But don’t be absent. That could become an unrepairable bridge. We love Logan, each and everyday, we want to talk about him. Maybe not all the time. But to not talk about him is to ignore him and dishonor his memory. He was a person, he was here and he was important. So don’t shy away from saying his name. I look at photos and videos daily of him and make comments about his chubby cheeks or the squeaky noise he made at the hospital. I want to be happy when I remember him. Not everything was sad.

In closing, I want to say we won’t keep this GoFundMe account up forever. Since Logan has passed, there aren’t as many updates to post. Sure our journey isn’t over, but the format of this page isn’t really fitting anymore. So I will keep it for just a little while longer, as we do still have medical bills rolling in. And if you feel led to donate, that’s great. And if not, that’s okay to. It’s not everyone’s purpose to give, your purpose for us may be in a different format. We welcome all your love. (Please know we hate having to have to GoFundMe in the first place) After I close the GoFundMe of you want to continue following our family and this journey, you’ll have to find us on FB. I will continue to post there.

Love all of you more than words can say

We said goodbye to our sweet boy today. A moment in time I’ll likely never forget. The time Logan spent here with us, I just don’t have words for at this moment.

His funeral was beautiful. As it should be, for such a beautiful boy.

Wyatt was very adamant about writing a letter for his little brother. And boy did he do his baby brother proud! And his momma! I had expected a short “I love and miss you”. But Wyatt went all out. Exposing his big sweet heart. I’m so proud of his fierce love for his brother. Watching him weep the last few days over his brother has been tough. But I take comfort in the immense love Wyatt contains for Logan. How pure and beautiful it is.

For those who didn’t get to attend the funeral. There is a video on Logan’s Obituary page, you can watch the funeral, it was recorded.

Josh and I are “running away” for a few days to grieve as a couple and just love on each other through this difficult time. Please pray for us to lean on each other and God. Both of us have become indifferent with God and I’m confident with time, we will rebuild that relationship.

I can’t thank each and everyone of you enough who showed up for Logan. To be there, meant you acknowledged how important his life was. How important Logan was. Thank you for celebrating my beautiful boy and supporting my family.

The next few updates were short, so I have combined them into one blog post.

March 7 2017

Logan is still with us, but this process is anything but easy. Probably the most agonizing thing to watch. If you’ve ever had a loved one on Hospice and have been there to watch the final moments, you get an idea of what we’re watching.

March 8, 2017

This little beauty is 13 days old today. He definitely is a tough member of this family. We’re are a strong bunch. Hospice said she believes he’s held on so long because we constantly did skin to skin with him up until a couple days ago. I talk to him continually. All day. Sometimes I even sing or hum to him. Our favorite thing is to read books. I have a couple favorites. I kiss him all day, I’m sure he rolls his eyes at me.

March 9, 2017

Sweet baby Logan passed away this morning at 11:40am. Please excuse us during the next few days as we may be silent as we grieve as a family. Big brother is on his way home from school. We will update you on funeral plans as they come. Thank you for support and prayers.

We are on the downhill now. After hospice left yesterday we noticed Logan had a little blood on his lips. We called Hospice, and they believe he has an internal bleed that they can do nothing for. Apparently it’s normal for this situation. She also said she believes he’s having little seizures and told us to increase his Valium dosage. We are also starting morphine to keep him comfortable. His respirations are normal pace but are shallow and she said there is a rubbing sound when he breaths which she believes is his lungs shutting down. He has also started to mottle around his face.

He gave us one more day when we were for sure he wouldn’t make it through the night. I can only figure he loves us as much as we love him.

For this moment, right now, I’m holding it together. I know I need to take care of him and see this through. And I think that’s what’s holding me together. I have to be strong for him until this is all over. I’m trying to hold on to that.

I ask you to keep praying. Pray for the comfort of my child as he enters this final lap of his journey. Pray for peace as he meets Jesus. Pray for Wyatt to understand and cope with this. He loves his little brother so much. He has been the best big brother so far and I know he would’ve won awards for being the bestest big brother in the years to come. I ask you pray for Josh and I. For comfort and strength to push through this journey. We are angry. And much as I’ve tried to hold on to my faith, I am now angry with God. Not only is he taking my baby from me, but I’m made to watch him die. And everyday has not been a peaceful one. I take comfort in loving in. That’s the only comfort I feel.

Logan’s hospice nurse came out today and let us know his breathing has started to change. I can notice subtle differences in his behavior as well. We are entering the final stage.

While part of me is relieved it’s almost over because I’m ready for him to be in Heaven, the other part of me is screaming in agony. The last few days have been what I imagine is just the beginning of the pain to come. I have suffered so much since Logan was born. Each day bringing about a new wave of emotions and crying. Not just crying, weeping. I can honestly say I’ve never wept in my life, until now.

I can’t figure out how to keep going. I’m only surviving right now because Logan is with me almost every second of everyday. Except for the few minutes Josh holds him. And even then I freak out. If I can’t handle my own husband holding my child, how in the world am I supposed to handle letting him go? I just can’t.

I sit here holding this beautiful beautiful baby who looks so peaceful. And I’m just dying on the inside. My pain is written all over my face. Too great for me to conceal it now. I’m breaking, I’m broken. I don’t think I can be fixed. This is the most torturous and unfair thing to do to a person.

So many times over the past 9 days I have gone through the emotions of his passing away only to be surprised with another day. I’m so emotionally and physically spent. I don’t know how to be “normal”. I don’t know what a “normal” life is anymore or how to live in one. This has forever changed who I am. I feel bitter. I feel cold. I feel like I don’t care anymore.

I’m thankful for the time I have gotten with my son. But it hurts holding this child that evades me. I can’t have him forever and that is cruel. I don’t know what the rest of the day holds for him.

Each day Logan gives us such a blessing. But along with the blessing comes the constant doubt. Josh and I’ve continued to discuss why we chose the route we did. And after continuous discussions of what Drs have said we constantly come back to the same conclusion.

It’s so hard to look at him and know he won’t be here much longer. That I have to take all the love he deserves and condense it into a few days. Today is an emotional day. They come and go. I’m sure I will have plenty more of them. I want so badly to keep my son forever. What I wouldn’t give for him to be healthy.

The hospice nurse came by today and initially his vitals were high, but she took them again and they were back to normal. She said he must’ve been in a deep sleep. He hasn’t eaten today. I keep trying to wake him to feed him and he’s not interested. We wasn’t eating much, a few mLs but at least it was something. He’s almost in a permanent state of the fetal position. I think the encephalocele hurts or causes him some sort of discomfort. If I barely touch it by accident he fidgets. He wants to lay on his side. And his head juts down like holding his head up is uncomfortable for him. You can see his neck stretching in uncomfortable ways.

He spends his days on my chest or Josh’s, but mostly mine. Curled up in a little bitty ball and sleeps the day away. Sometimes he will get a burst of energy and open his eyes. He doesn’t move his body at all except for stretching. But we enjoy every minute that his eyes are open as if he could see us. And we talk to him and just go crazy over him.

I tell him all the time how much I love him and how perfect he is and how lucky I am to have such a handsome fella. I just simply can’t get enough of him.

We’re told that once the dying process starts, it’ll be fairly quick. Children go faster than the elderly.

Josh and I are doing okay. We continually talk through this whole process. Encouraging each other and giving unconditional love to one another.

Thank you for your continued love and support.

Day 2 at home has been easier than yesterday. Hospice came out and said his vital signs are good and he doesn’t appeared to be dehydrated since he hasn’t eaten for 6 days. It’s crazy to think he’s 6 days old. And he’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen, aside From Wyatt of course. They also assured me I could shower and he’d be fine. Might seem weird to you, but since I’ve been struggling with simply going to the bathroom without him, all I do is lay in bed with him on my chest. I know I have to share him with Josh but I can’t explain the intense amount of anxiety I get not having him with me. And believe me when I say I take him everywhere. If you’ve never tried using the bathroom with your child in your arms after having a CSection, you’re in for a treat.

Logan has been using his tongue and appears to be “sucking” on his arm. So I started pumping and we tried feeding him with a syringe they gave us at the hospital, sticking it in his cheek and massaging his mouth. Our first attempt was surprisingly successful. He took about 2mLs of breast milk. He was very alert, for him. However the next two times we tried to feed him he only took about 0.5mLs. Small victory, and it gives us comfort knowing we are doing everything we can.

A little side note if you please. Please watch what you say to us or in comments. I’m sure you’re trying to be encouraging and positive and helpful. We’ve never made any decisions regarding Logan lightly. And trust me when I say we’ve done so much research and talked to so many Drs while pregnant and after delivery. We know the choice we’ve made. In the long run we believe we are doing what’s best for our child. Please respect that. We don’t find these comments helpful or positive or encouraging. They hurt. Simply they hurt. So please just be careful of what you say. This journey we are on is so much harder than you can ever imagine. It is a pain like I’ve never felt before. It’s physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually painful. Just support us. Pray for us. Don’t make us doubt the decisions we made. We already have enough doubt on our own. We’d give anything for Logan to have a long sustainable life. We’d hope you’d know that about us.

Thank you for your continued support and prayers. The donations from people we don’t even know coming in are absolutely jaw dropping. It’s a beautiful light in this world. And it reminds me that we are not forgotten. We are loved. This sweet little boy is loved. Near and far. I can’t say thank you enough