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Moving Ahead One Breath At A Time
Sep 10, 2002

My wife and I finally got pregnant after a few years of trying. We were finally having a baby. A son, as a matter of fact. I was so afraid though that he and I would have as strained a relationship as my father and myself. We never got along, my father and me, until my mother died a few years ago. Anyway, when he came into this world, he was perfect. I looked at his face and saw our future together and knew it would be bright. He was large, 8lbs 14oz, and was quiet for a baby.

As he got older, we really became close. He would laugh when I tickled him at around 8 months. When he started to talk, I would say "Whose your buddy?" and he would say "da-da". A few months ago we bought a lawn tractor that he absolutely loved. He would stand by the door and hold out his had toward the garage and say "tra-tor". We finally broke down and bought him a little battery powered ride-on bubble tractor. I thought the boy would never stop smiling.

August 1st of this year, while at his grandmothers house, he got upset at his grandfather leaving the house to go to work. He began crying, saying "Pa-Pa". His grandmother gave him a bit of a pretzel. He had had them before and loved them, so it wasnt a worry. He started choking though, and she couldnt get the piece out. Before the paramedics arrived, he had stopped breathing and his heart stopped. They got his heart going again in the ambulance but he wasnt breathing on his own. My wife and I got there while he was still in the emergency room. I know there are people on this website who know that feeling you get, seeing your child there and being powerless to do anything to help.

My son had sustained too much damage to his brain due to lack of oxegyn. His body was barely breathing on its own, and his ability to control his temperature was impaired. His heartrate was also very high, up into the 230 beats per min. He was on the resperator for a little over 24hours when they told us his brain wasnt functioning. This was the most agonizing 24 hours of my life.

"How can God do this?" I thought. He gave me this perfect little boy, the best mix of his mother and me. And then he took him away when we were just getting started...I still dont have the answer but I KNOW I never will, so long as I am here on earth and not with God.

Logan became an organ donor. We felt that his sharing nature would demand it, as he was the most unselfish 16 month old we had ever seen. His heart is in a little girl in Wisconsin, and his other organs are in Chicago and Indianna. Everyone keeps telling us how proud they are of us. I say we didnt do anything except sign a piece of paper. Logan did it, not me.

In conclusion I would like to share a poem I wrote for him...I know its no Yeats, but here goes:

The tractors sit inside the garage
just outside the door;
The balls sit still and silent, now
waiting on the floor;
The "T" is guiten and lonely,
not singing any more joy.

This house feels empty once again,
now that we've lost our boy.

This family will not be the same,
without his presence here;
We'll miss him most, his voice, his laughter,
now, throughout the years.

We'll just move forward, one step, one breath
together yet apart.
But one day we'll meet again
and begin a brand new start.

For Loggie...

Love Da-Da.
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