Don't forget

Spencer spent all 6 weeks of his short life in the NICU at Prentice Womens Hospital.

They gave us amazing care, amazing resources, kindness, compassion, and in a way saved our lives as we said goodbye to our son.

One of the signs his NICU nurses signed as a reminder of who cared for him during his stay

But those 6 weeks in such a particular place, also meant that many people never met Spencer.

He only met immediate family a few times. He met one of my best friends who worked close, and my other best friends mom. Silly it seems, but those two women getting to meet him meant the world to me. It meant there were more than a few people who could say they knew him. They could say they met him, and talk about him in more than just thoughts.

For most people their descriptions of Spencer come in 'he seemed'. They might not state it, but when they say, 'he was so calm, so cute, so small, so long' they can only mean it in ways that he seemed to them. Ways we talked about him, or pictures. It is not said with the reality behind it of actually meeting him.

One of his nurses made this sign. It is the only print set of handprints we have of his.

But the few family members who met him, and those two women who I consider family, they get to say those things with a reality behind them. They can say more than generalizations.

Please don't get me wrong, I appreciate people talking about him, even if in generalizations, it means he won't be forgotten by the majority who knew he existed. But having even just a few people be able to talk about him in ways that were specific to him, to us, to this...it is simply different.

It lets me know there are others to help ensure his memory, to tell what little we got to know about him in 6 weeks to others, to help us keep who Spencer was, alive.

So don't forget...hold on to those memories, however brief, because there are few people who have them, and they should be remembered for how special they are.

....

Today Spencer would have been 3 months old. Today is another milestone he will never hit. Today I dream of what he would be like if he were here today. I don't think of him, or see him in my head with any of the conditions that plagued him. I just see a smiling little boy. A little boy people remember. A little boy who became a great big tree.

I see him happy, running, laughing, playing... all around us as we go on in our days, I see him how every little boy should be. I hope those who met him see him this way too.

Happy 3 months my little boy. I hope it's a good one.