June 27, 2024

One week. It’s been one week since we said goodbye to David. I’ve wanted to post something for a while, but it is a struggle. If anyone is familiar with Randy Pausch’s Last Lecture, at the end he said the whole lecture was a head fake. It was not a lecture for those in the audience, but rather it was for his kids. This is honestly how I have viewed all of my posts – they were all posts for David. One day when he got older and had questions, our posts would be there to help answer his questions. Now I have trouble posting since David will never see these posts and we won’t be having those conversations. 

We are so grateful for the 7.5 months we had with David. For the most part, they were seven marvelous months. Sure, he gave us some moments of sheer panic, but he always filled our lives with love and joy. Our only regret is that we will not see him grow up. We won’t see whether his hair will be straight like Eli’s or curly like Anna’s. We won’t know what he likes and dislikes as he grows. We won’t be able to witness his bond with his siblings grow and become something special that only they would understand. 

However, David leaves us signs. We know he’s safe from any more pain. His heart and mind have been completely healed and he’s at peace. This gives us great comfort. The day he crashed two weeks ago, when I finally went home it was 2 AM, and I got to the elevators to the parking ramp and found a penny. My immediate thought was “This is a penny from heaven. Angel Grandma (that’s what I lovingly called my grandma) sent me a penny from heaven. Things are going to be ok.” I don’t know why I thought of grandma, usually I’m thinking about which kid will get the penny, but I came to realize later that Grandma was letting me know that she was ready to hold David in her loving arms and David will be ok, just not the ok I was hoping for. 

Since David passed, I have found two other pennies. One up in the parking lot of St. Croix State Park when we quickly stopped for a potty break before heading back home after an afternoon of hiking. The other one at Home Depot, in an aisle I was in about an hour prior but left to check Menards first before returning. Eli found a small metal heart from David in a sandbox at school. We feel his presence, and in so many ways, he’s still alive for us. We may not be able to see him and visit him anymore, but he’s still all around us.  

David’s last few days were filled with love, peace, and comfort. He was surrounded by Adam and I, his siblings, and his favorite nurses. Over his last week, his core nurses all took turns caring for David. Some of these nurses prepared for David’s arrival before he was born, some cared for him back in November, and others cared for him starting after his Norwood in February. However, all of them knew him so well, and cared for him so perfectly. We could not have found better nurses and therapists to care for him. They made all our days, and especially our final days, with David special and memorable. 

Adam and I both remarked that Wednesday was the absolute perfect day spent with David. It was just our little family and hospital staff – so it was a little calmer than some of the prior days. He still received a few visitors from nurses who were on their time off and we were so happy he was able to see his favorite OT and Speech therapists. I don’t know if they will ever know how much they impacted his (and ours) lives, but we are so grateful to them. So many people wore pink that day with David – it was a sight to behold. That evening Anna and Eli spent as much time with him as possible. They were able to join music therapy and help play David some music. The rest of the night, they just loved on their baby brother, and we read him so many stories. These are moments that I will forever hold in my heart. Reading and cuddling with my kids are my absolute favorite activities to do with them, and the calmness of that night was something magical and holy. 

They day David died had been exactly 1 year from when we received his diagnosis. We had just returned from my sister and brother-in-law’s wedding in Ohio, and we were so excited to see our little peanut. That day ended up being filled with so many tears. David has kept us on a rollercoaster ride since then. Yet, we would not change a single thing about that journey, except we would change the ending if we could. We would do anything to have our little boy back in our arms. He taught us so much in his short life, and we will find a way to continue to keep his light shining in the world. We are also so amazed at the lives our small little boy has touched. He has done so much more in his 7.5 months than many who live a full long life. David opened a whole new world to us – a world filled with heart defects, but mostly a world filled with hope and love. We love you David. We will always love you David. Thank you for being our little boy. 

Here’s a song that keeps playing in my head: With Hope – Steven Curtis Chapman