Death tends to taint things, make it as if nothing good was there before. Robin and I started talking about Logan last night, not our usual sad conversations about making it through and the injustice of it all. We spoke about our son and the happiness he gave us in the six months he was on earth and we were able to smile through the tears…
Here are things we can remember
– excitedly telling every1 we were expecting, we couldn’t believe our luck, we were going to be parents
– seeing how crazy busy he was on scans, at one scan, 3 months or so, it looked like he was crawling
– when we went to find out his gender, he wouldn’t lay still, the sonographer actually asked if I had an extremely sweet breakfast, but no, my little boy was just THAT active, THAT full of life
– When we found out we were having a boy, we made biscuits covered in blue icing, I still remember how excited the whole family was, they were so elated with us
– I remember sending pictures to Robin while he was away at training, he was so desperate to be part of every moment, I will always love him for that
– I remember how he’d kick me if he didn’t like the position I was sitting in-the Lord of the manor from the start
– It was probably just my imagination but I could swear I could feel his heart beat if I put my hand on the right place on my tummy
– I remember the last scan we had with him, it was the 4d scan the day before his birth, and he was so cute, such a little model, posing for the camera, he had everyone in the room gushing
– when he was born he surprised everyone by simply breathing, the doctors didn’t think he’d breath after birth but he made his presence felt with a cry (I was not awake for this but family say they could hear him from waiting room)
– he also peed on the doctor- definitely got his parents love of a good joke
– he grabbed his dad’s finger, I had the pleasure and  joy of carrying him for over 26 weeks, it’s only right his dad got a special moment with him after birth
– he looked so much like his father it took me by surprise but Rob saw him open his eyes and tells me they were un mistakenly mine, that’s sweet to know
– he was so active in NICU a nurse commented that she reckoned he didn’t like to be covered, especially his feet, which is cute because I often don’t like my feet covered in bed
– He lived a much longer than expected, because THAT is just how tenacious he was
– he was surrounded by love at his birth (people from all over, family,friends,colleagues and acquaintances all prayed for him) and when he was laid to rest (the funeral director, commented that it was the most people he had seen gather for such a young baby’s funeral)
– I have received messages from so many people telling me Logan has made an impact in their lives, which shows how special he is
* So when the grief gets too much this is what I hold onto, I’m the mother of an amazing little boy, an angel child

I think I might be jealous, this is difficult to admit, but I can’t help myself…
Rob and I are looking at tomb stones for our baby boy and it hurts, I want to be looking at strollers and cute baby things like other moms get to.
While my heart aches to fix up his nursery I instead have to get his grave site all neatened up.
I’m jealous that I don’t get to creep up to his crib and watch him sleep and instead have to be ok with just five pictures which mostly make me cry.
I realise I’m jealous because I get annoyed when parents don’t appreciate their bundles of joy and I was upset when the medical centre phoned to set up a hearing test for him. Instead of bundling him up and taking him for check ups I have to tell strangers that he is gone and that upsets me.
Like other mom’s I want to show off how cute he is, how smart,how loved, but I don’t have any of that and I’m jealous.

They say step one of recovering is admitting you have a problem so that is it, I’m jealous! I realise he is in heaven and I’m even jealous of the angels who get to cuddle him and sing to him, because I want to be the one to do that.

On the other hand, I’m happy for all the moms I know, because I know how much their kids mean to them, but in the end I’m only human, I’m fallible. I want to beat my chest and ask where is my happy ever after?! How did my fairytale only last one day?! Where is the justice in that?!

Then my husband gives me a big bear hug and I realise I still have Prince, My parents come check in AGAIN and I realise I still have my Guardian “angels”, Friends and strangers reach out and it feels like I have all these fairies surrounding me with their magic (every time they pray on our behalf) and I think maybe my fairytale isn’t over?

I mean some of the best stories, the ones with the best happily ever afters, started with the most tears…and judging by my current heartache I should be due for something amazing in the future. . .

Three most difficult things about Logan’s death
1. I’m suddenly not pregnant anymore, I’m reminded every time I look down at my none existent tummy, that hurts much more than the glaring, still healing, scar. I used to touch my tummy loads and know I was carrying a precious little gift, but no more. That sucks!
2. I have no cute little man to look forward to, he was due in June and suddenly I feel like I have nothing to look forward to, all my lists of “things to get for baby” “stuff to do before baby” “things to do with baby” MEAN NOTHING 🙁 except tears when I suddenly stumble upon a list.
3. We won’t be seeing any of his milestones, no first steps, no first teeth, no firsts for us, just one long last 🙁
(Suddenly thought all this when I walked pass mirror and saw my tummy, or lack there of, I suddenly got really sad and cried my eyes out-who knew I still had tears left- thought since sharing usually helps, I’d blog my feelings)

I have blue streaks in my hair, I did it for Logan, which might sound weird,but makes sense to me. I haven’t brushed my hair in ages and was starting to look like Madusa, I tried washing it on Sunday but turns out I am still way too uncomfortable and sore and my hair takes way too long.
So today my mom kinda forced me to get my hair done (she hoped if I looked a bit better I might feel a bit better-you never know hey) I finally agreed to take care of my appearance after she asked me if I thought Logan would be happy to see his mom in this state. I reckoned he wouldn’t be happy and the least I could do was wash my hair.
When I got to salon I noticed they had colour extensions and I figured if I’m doing this for Logan I might as well get a bright blue hair piece because although we didn’t have many things for him, what we do have is blue.
Even though leaving the house makes me nervous and seeing lots of people makes me uncomfortable.
I ended up glad I went though, because some of the women there shared their stories with me (I live in a very small town and many people know about Logan) and it’s amazing how many people have had such hardship in their lives and have come out stronger. That is truly what helps me these days, modern “fairy tales” you know, stories with happy endings.

Anyway I have blue hair, in honour of my pretty boy, don’t think I ever said just how pretty my boy is, he looked rather dark at birth, dark enough for a NICU nurse to comment that with Rob and I both being so pale, you wouldn’t necessarily place him with us, his colour came back to him though and turns out he is really pink and pale, with dark black hair and dark eyebrows-like the baby boy version of snow white-with rosebud lips and the tiniest little sharp nose. At only 26 weeks he was already 32cm tall (a big boy)

My pretty little boy isn’t here anymore but he will always be my pride and joy and even though he is not here to take care of I can look after his parents for now.

A few days after my son died I needed to leave the house…and it was a real eye-opener

Guess what, chocolate desserts still taste good.

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