34 Weeks 1 day

Dear Sonzee, 

The last week has been another tough one. Yesterday was Yom Kippur and the book of life was sealed.  I can't figure out how it makes me feel to know last year you weren't written in it.  Your cause of death determined and your fate essentially written in stone.  I distinctly remember praying that if you were not inscribed into the book of life that you be taken peacefully.  I am grateful that at least that request was honored to its fullest potential possible.  Besides the fear of the unknown, one of my biggest fears was you suffering in your death.  Thankfully you never did, or at least never appeared to, so I hope that was the case.

Both your sisters decided to compete for number one injured last week.  Laeya fractured her hand, and Meena somehow removed a chunk from her eye.  We see the specialist for Laeya's hand tomorrow, and Dr. Cassidy squeezed us in the same day to take a look at Meena's eye (more proof there is a g-d-hehe).  He made a comment about how it didn't need stitches and I honestly for a moment chuckled and thought he was kidding until I realized he doesn't joke, eek and phew.  She is on eye meds for a week and then drops for the entire month of October.  During Meena and Noam's spring appointment Aba let Dr. Cassidy know you left us, but it was the first time I have stepped foot into that office since you last went.  I ran into a parent of a kiddo I worked with last year at FBC west, she and then Miss. Monique both came over to talk to me.  The more I slowly begin to venture out, the more I will have to remind myself people haven't seen me yet in person to give their condolences.  It's one of those moments where it makes me swell with joy that you meant so much to people and they haven't forgotten you and want to let me know that, paired with can I hide behind sunglasses in a corner and not draw any attention to myself.

34 weeks.  How has that even happened?  I had been thinking the last couple of days how your siblings haven't mentioned too much about you.  Noam did scream for us to bring him his "Sonzee and Me" book the other night, but the other three are pretty quiet.  Then yesterday Noam did one of his bite down on dumbo while he shakes his body moves that he thinks is funny and cute and Laeya looked like she had seen a ghost and told him to stop doing it.  He of course being Bossy Baby thought he was being super cute, so did it again, to which she said "stop, you are reminding me of when Sonzee had a seizure and it scares me".  I knew immediately what he was doing, so I told him sternly to stop because he has done it in front of me a few times and I also DON'T LIKE IT ONE BIT.  Maybe in another lifetime it would like a cute 2 year old just squeezing his hands and body, but if any of us never again see a human shake it would still be too soon. 

I officially booked our first family pictures that won't have you physically in them.  I think the we are doing the next best thing to having you in them.  I am almost getting excited to have them taken and to see them.  I haven't decided if I will put them throughout the house, but baby steps.

Anyway my love.  I can't believe this weekend it will officially be 8 months since you were last here.  We miss you beyond words.  We love you SO much!

Love always, 

Ema

"Dondee"

Every night when Sonzee's little brother goes to sleep he requests to read his favorite book, or two, or sometimes three.  They are usually the "poo-poo" book (Old McNoah), "Never touch a dragon", or "10 tiny racers".  He will dictate where we are going to sit in his room.  It used to be us snuggling in his rocking chair, but now it has turned into us squeezing onto his bean bag or him in his little rocking chair and me on the floor.  After we presented him with his "Sonzee and I" book the other day we would ask him if he wanted to read it after his first book at night, both Sam and I have read it one or two times, but it has not been a book of choice.  So last night with his first book choice in my hand, and his milk bottle in his, we begin our normal routine. 

We both alternate singing the words to "Old McNoah built an ark", with the slight adaptation of "McNoam", because it sounds cuter to use his name.  He brings "two tows" and they "moo-moo heee and moo moo da".  Then he gets "two ducks" and they quack (although I won't lie, he totally substitutes an "f" for the first "q").  The book goes on to discuss pigs who go "oinkee", and lunch being served that turns into it becoming quite smelly (hence "poo-poo" book).  The rain starts to fall, the ark goes "oopsie daisy" and then dry land is spotted, "ya-hoo", and of course "e-i-e-i-o".  The book finishes and little brother pops up and walks towards the middle of his room.  I plead with him to come back for another book, he says "Dondee!", I am not sure what he is saying exactly.  He reaches up on the dresser, "Dondee!".  Then he grabs the book.  "Oh...you want the book of you and Sonzee"

"Dondee Book".

So he brings it back to sit down and we begin to read.  I have read this book to him already, I wrote the book, it has only brought a huge smile to my face, except last night when it became requested book #2.  Fighting back the tears he let me read every word not rushing to turn the pages.  He had me read it a second time pointing at her picture every time while I said "Sonzee" and then pointing at his picture while saying "Noam".  It is always a moment like this that catches my breath, one that makes me smile with such joy and happiness, yet simultaneously breaks my heart.  It is one thing to have to sift through my emotions and the pain of her loss, but to know her baby brother aches for her is just such an addition of pain to this already horrible process.  I am so thankful this book will give him (some of) the comfort he clearly needs, but I wish so much that he could just walk into her room or see her in her PPOD and say "Dondee" with the same excitement he does when he sees her picture in his book, like he always did.