It has been eight months since our lives were shattered by the loss of Rowan.

Rowan, in the waiting room, just before he is killed

Rowan, in the waiting room, just before he is killed

 

Eight months later..

  • We are preparing to remember Rowan on his third birthday, as we celebrate his sister’s first day of Kindergarten.
  • We continue to be in awe of the amazing support from both children and adults, who have gone above and beyond the limits of true friendship. Recently, one of Rowan’s 5 year old friends learned about time travel and said to his mom “I want to go back and get Rowan to give him back to his big sister.”  Compassion and empathy seem to come so easy when you are five.
  • We continue to receive random and generous acts of kindness from strangers. Just yesterday, a man named Steve offered a wonderful gift of time and talent to remember Rowan, having never known him. Thank you, Steve. And the list goes on, giving us hope as we go out into the world each day.
  • We have heard about the Random Acts of Kindness that people have performed in Rowan’s memory, and we have enjoyed hearing the stories. Sometimes heartfelt, sometimes funny, always appreciated.
  • We have heard from the Williams Syndrome community that an active discussion regarding anesthesia took place at this year’s convention and that the Williams Syndrome Association website continues to be corrected. Though we continue to be disheartened that we were met with silence and resistance by the Williams Syndrome Association, we are hopeful that necessary changes are being made.
  • We have met strangers, now friends, who understand that eight months is just a moment in the lifetime during which we will carry our sadness.
  • We spend each day thankful for memories that pop up at the most unexpected times, and thankful for the people who say “Remember when..” We have over two years of the most wonderful memories, that we will cherish always and hold onto at every opportunity.
  • We find, each day, small moments that make us think of Rowan and make us smile.
  • And we frolic and play with our daughter, in appreciation of each moment that we have together.

But.

  • We spend each night waking from visions that we cannot erase. The color of our son’s eyes, as they were without his soul shining out from them. The look on our daughter’s face, when the spark of innocence left her, driving home in the car as the reality of what she just saw began to sink in. The sight of our son’s blood, as it washed off my skin and down into the shower drain. The details, too horrific to put into words, of our witness to each stage of our son’s death. For Rowan’s death was not the peaceful one that some hope to imagine.
  • We try to comfort our daughter as she tries to save her brother in her sleep, and fears for our loss each day. We try to remain compassionate as she lets out her own anger and grief, and supportive as she tries to remember.
  • We remain disheartened at our inability to have Rowan’s death be taken seriously. After five months of silence, we received a letter from Rady Children’s Hospital on August 11, though the hospital still has not addressed our concerns. The documents we have repeatedly requested remain hidden. Though we would welcome the opportunity for a documented conversation with a knowledgeable source, their continued offer of a “personal” conversation with their health affairs officer, the very person who previously claimed he could not answer our questions because he had “no personal knowledge of Rowan’s case”, is something we find both disturbing and offensive. Eight months later, after we have already performed our own investigation with the generous help and candid opinions of numerous doctors, we have no need for a personal conversation with someone who admittedly does not have thorough knowledge of Rowan’s care.
  • We have received no response from the  Medical Examiner, or the Police Department, or any organization outside of the hospital that killed Rowan in regards to an unbiased investigation into his death.  Though we live with the reality that Rowan’s death may ultimately be ignored, knowing we did the best we could is important to us.  Our responsibility as parents does not stop  just because we can no longer hold our son in our arms.
  • We remain saddened and angry that the doctors who contributed to Rowan’s untimely death remain untouched, and responsible for the care of other vulnerable children..
  • We see no protests in the street; no groups taking action.  Instead we spend each day trying to find the answer to the question.. “How are you today?”  Making us wonder each time, “Did our son’s life matter?”
  • We manage to get out of bed each day, as we each deal with our own guilt, search for our own path, and try to find our way without Rowan
  • And we cry, everyday.

 

Read our story: http://www.rowansmile.me

How to remember Rowan with kindness:  https://rowansmile.me/act-of-kindness-for-rowan/

How to take action:  https://rowansmile.me/how-to-take-action/