Sawyer’s Story (part 10): The Unthinkable

February 4, 2011 at 11:12 pm | Posted in emergency room, Grief, hospital | 14 Comments
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We stood in the room with the ER doctor.  We did not want to believe what he had just told us.  How could Sawyer be dead?  Just a few hours before he was alive and fine.  I felt like my head would never stop spinning.  Had he gotten a virus?  Had he choked?  Were there signs we had missed? 

A medical examiner had come into the room at some point.  He said he had to ask us some questions but we could go see Sawyer first.  We both jumped at the chance to go to Sawyer.  I just wanted to hold him.  Maybe if we saw him and held him everyone would realize this was just a big horrible mistake.

As we were taken to the room where Sawyer was it was explained to us that all we could do was literally “see” him.  We were not allowed to hold him.  We were not allowed to kiss him.  We were not even allowed to touch him.

We were brought through the  door to the room in the ER that earlier I had desperately wanted to open.  There was Sawyer.  He was lying on this huge hospital bed.  He was so small.  He was so still.  He had tape on his face from one of the tubes.  I screamed.  I just wanted to take the tape off of his face.  The doctor or maybe the medical examiner said I could not remove the tape.  In fact, Evan and I could not even get very close to him.  I could not stop screaming.  I just wanted to hold him.  I wanted to wake up from this nightmare.  I ran out of the room.

I waited for Evan in the hallway.  I tried so hard not to think about the fact that it was time to feed Sawyer.  I tried even harder to get the image I had just seen out of my head.

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  1. Lanie, I can’t imagine what you endured. I can’t imagine the shock and confusion and pain that you felt, that you still feel. You are a strong woman to remember and to write it all down. I hope telling your story frees you of some of that pain. Lots of Love.

  2. Lanie,
    The images in your heart are what matter; for those are the memories that endure.

    Linda

  3. Sending you love and light. You and your family have been on my mind since I found your precious blog. xoxoxo

  4. What a beautiful perfect little boy, and what a horrible, unthinkable story. You are incredible and wonderful and strong.

  5. He was with us for such a short time, time in which I held him, sang to him, danced around the room, told him all the places we would go, the wonderful times we would have together and made plans. Grandpoppy (your beloved grandfather), says that man proposes and God disposes, that our futures are only a maybe place. But we will always hold Sawyer in our hearts and no one can take that away from us. In that way, Sawyer is with us always and forever.

  6. With each of your blogs my heart breaks for you again. Unthinkable, unbelievable, unfair, and so many other “un–‘s”. Your strength and love are so strong . . . please know that Sawyer felt that and it will always be part of him. In my heart I know his strength and love are coming back to you too . . . Maryanne

  7. Lanie, your courage is unbelievable. To retell the story must be so painful that we, your friends, can only wish that writing it down gives you just the slightest distance from the events you describe. It must be so hard to think of Sawyer but his pictures are beautiful and his passing was peaceful. He fulfilled his destiny and arrived in some other place. His story will be with you forever and, having told it, it will also be with all your readers. It’s a gift you’ve bestowed on us. Thank you.
    Cornelia

  8. unthinkable…

  9. The name of your post says it all. We are always thinking of you…

  10. I had not read this post before. I am so very sorry. It’s so awful to be kept from your baby, and it must have been so painful to not be allowed to even touch or hold your precious son.

  11. […] second verse was tougher for me especially after Jake and Sawyer died.  There were many mornings when I woke up hoping that I was holding our other 2 […]

  12. […] my broken heart wishes I could go back to when I took this picture and change the ending of Sawyer’s story.   I have no words tonight for how much I miss that little […]

  13. […] Sawyer died I did not buy a star.  The thought of buying another star did not make me feel better.  […]

  14. […] too long after Sawyer died, the spouses of 2 of my cousins were diagnosed with cancer.  One lost her battle 2 years ago and […]


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