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My Story of Andrew


Happiness lies ahead for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss and ends with a tear.


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Well, where do I even begin?

Andrew was born on November 5th, 2000 at 10:06 a.m. He weighed 6lbs. 9ozs. and was 19 1/2 inches long. He arrived so quickly... we barely had enough time to get to the hospital, put our stuff down, have Trisha change clothes, call the doctor to come in - and - BOOM! out came Andrew Logan. He was welcomed by his daddy on one side and his Aunt Tonya on the other side... and mommy in the middle of course. Others that welcomed his first few moments at birth were Aunt Tracie, Uncle Pete, Uncle George, Cousin Zackery, his big brother Dagan and Papa Jack.

Aunt Tonya (that's me :) ) was soooo happy. I couldn't believe it was another boy... Dagan was so close to me and I just knew Andrew would be too. I couldn't wait to hold him, to talk to him, to change his diapers, to dress him in cute little boy clothes.....

On Sunday January 28th, 2001 Andrew Logan left
this world as quickly as he arrived.
BOOM!

Trisha called me early that morning telling me there was something wrong with Andrew... with panic in her voice that I will never forget. That conversation is soooo very clear in my mind. The drive down Main street - 13 blocks - was the longest drive ever.

While I was driving, Matt was putting Andrew in the car seat for Trish to rush him to the hospital. (They only live three blocks, so it was much faster for them to take him than it would have been to call 911, then they call an ambulance, and on and on....) The entire drive down main street I continuously repeated, "God, please let him be breathing when I get there... this is just a really bad dream I'm having, wake me up, please God... this doesn't happen to us... this is something that is supposed to happen to other people.... Please God, let him be okay."

I honestly think Trisha knew right then that Andrew was already gone, but she still clung to that hope (as any human being would) that everything would be okay. She has always had a fear of being around or touching dead people and she would not touch Andrew - she made Matt do it.

I went to her house to get Matt and Dagan (Trisha's first son from a previous relationship.) Matt told me that Andrew's face was all black, blue and purple. I knew this was not good. Matt may have known too, but I'm not sure. And poor Dagan, being only 23 months old, he had no idea what all the commotion was about.

We headed to the hospital where a nurse came out and said they were working on Andrew and the doctor was on his way. Our dad lived nine miles away and made it to the hospital before the doctor did. And the doctor only lived maybe seven blocks away.

I remember vividly the nurse looking at me shaking her head no while Trish and Matt were quietly crying together. I knew he was gone then.

As soon as our dad showed up, I left Trish for a few minutes to take Dagan to my husband to look after until we knew more. While I was gone, the nurse(or doctor, I'm not sure) came back out and told Trisha & Matt that Andrew was gone. The doctor told them that Andrew had more than likely died two to three hours before they found him.

The next few hours were pretty much a blur of phone calls to family and friends. We didn't leave the hospital until sometime after noon. We just couldn't - wouldn't - leave Andrew there alone.

Although Trisha chose not to hold Andrew, I did. I had never touched a dead body before. The thought of Andrew being gone was not even thinkable at this moment... I just reached down, scooped him up, bounced him a little while patting his bottom... the way I had done just a week before while I was taking care of him. Oh how I willed his little heart to beat again.... to pat his bottom hard enough to wake him from this sleep... to maybe talk to loud that he might stir... even a little movement... anything to get him to open his eyes. Anything!

But as I'm sure we all know, that could not happen. Andrew was gone.... gone....

All too soon the funeral director was there to take Andrew for his autopsy. The man was tall and lanky, very quiet and reserved... there seemed to be something about him that said "it's okay, I'll take good care of him." And he did. The man let us hold Andrew even more before he took him. He brought in a little white moses basket lined in pink and even a blanket.

The next step was planning a funeral. Only two years ago (almost to the day) I planned my mother's funeral... only this task seemed much greater. What would he wear, what would we put him in, what songs would we sing...

sorry... have to take a break... too many tears to write any more...

Well, the stuff below isn't exactly part of the "story" but it's some things I remember and don't want to forget...

we held andrew at the hospital and i just kept bouncin' and rockin' him in my arms... pattin' his bottom... like i had before.... i just knew he'd wake up.... he had too.... he was my other "bug" and i wasn't lettin' him go that easy.... trishi couldn't hold him... she just couldn't bring herself to do it... and that was her choice, i pushed, but not too hard.... i held him and held him... rocked him... talked to him as long as i could.... then i had to hand him to some one else because i just couldn't lay him back on that big cold table.... trish needed me or i would probably never have put him down at all....

the next day we went shopping for his clothes... again this was awful...the funeral home dressed him... and they did a wonderful job... he was so beautiful laying there... and i wanted so much to just scoop him up and love on him... i played w/ his silly little toes before they put his socks on him... god, how i wish i could touch his little feet again... i talked to him and told him that grandma barb must have been to jealous... all these grand babies down here that she just needed one for herself... and for a moment i felt better....

i remember touching his beautiful face... his chubby little arms... stroking his bald little head.... yes he was cold, but i just knew if i would keep rubbing him or touching him and talking to him... then just maybe he'd wake up and cry for me...

i took tons of pictures... sad to say we have more pics of his funeral than we do of when he was here with us.... i video taped everything.... zack, katie, and dagan all running around the funeral home.... i was there everyday with him... as many times a day as dh would let me go.... i just wanted to stay there forever.... i didn't want him being there all alone.... all the babies gave him kisses... talked to him too.... told him to tell grandma hi for them....

they gave trishi a lock of his hair which i have cause she's afraid she'll lose it ... lol ... she made a cast of his foot... just her and andrew... that must have been her mommy time with him.... but i have that gorgeous little foot too... just wish i could figure out a way to make some more from it ....

this all just seems so unreal at times.... unreal until we write it all out... and then it hurts like crazy... but then i think that's when another little piece of us heals...


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