The Due Date...

Dear Sawyer,

Today was the day (or there abouts) that we were supposed to welcome you into the world. May 7th.  I had hoped that you would wait until my birthday on the 12th. Although people thought I was crazy I think it would have been cool to share that date with you.  Joint parties at Chuckie Cheeses anyone? I wonder if you would have been here with us now. The last couple days things have gotten harder. I've thought about you more, I've cried more. I don't know if it's because this weekend was your due date, or mother's day, or something else. Maybe the shock of it all is starting to wear off, maybe I'm starting to realize this isn't some crazy nightmare. I'm not going to wake up to hear you crying, or your mother telling me it's time to go to the hospital. I'd rather not get sleep because you need to be fed and get your diaper changed then to not sleep because of the pain.

On Thursday I broke down at work. Luckily not too many people pass my office, I doubt anyone there knew. I had gotten a link to a website that helps parents that have lost a child. I started reading some of the stories, including some from dads that have been in the same situation I am in. Their writing was beautiful, their stories so sad. Not all of the dads lost their children when they were babies. I read one story of a father that lost his daughter right before she turned 14. I don't know what would be harder. To lose a child that you had known for 13 years, or to feel robbed of the memories and experiences. In some ways I felt jealous of the dad. What I wouldn't give to be able to spend 13 years with you, but I don't know that I could handle the loss. It got me thinking about what I would do if I lost your older sister Kelsey.  She just turned 13. Would I be grateful for the time I had with her? Or would it be harder because I would miss her smile, miss her laughter, all of the good times we had, and even the sassy comments.

On Friday your mom and I went to Orcas Island. We had to take a ferry to get there, and we had a few hours to wait until we could check into the hotel room. It's a fairly big island so there was plenty to do. I had told myself that this weekend I wouldn't think about anything but being here and relaxing. It hasn't worked so well. Your mom and I went for a walk on the beach. I thought about you. I thought about how fun it would be to watch you discover the world. What would you do if you turned over a rock and saw a small crab run out of it? What would you do if you picked up a slimy piece of seaweed? Would you be like your mom and be disgusted by it, or would you be more like me and start playing with it? We drove up to the top of the highest mountain here. There is a large stone tower you can climb up and see all the way around.  Unfortunately it was a little cloudy so we couldn't see much. I thought of how much you would probably like the view, but then I realized that it probably doesn't compare to the view you have now. I often wonder what you are doing. Are you watching down on us? Who have you spent time with up there?

While your passing has made me more firm in my beliefs it has also raised so many questions about how the whole thing works. I have a firmer belief that we will be together again, that we will get to spend all of the time together that we missed out on.

I wish I could see you grow up. I've seen pictures of your mom when she was young and she was pretty cute. I know that you had your mom's ears, nose, mouth, and red hair. I bet you would have looked a lot like her.

Love,

Dad