Remembering our First Son

It was 16 years ago that our first son was stillborn at 25 or 26 weeks. Odd that I cannot remember that detail now. It was a problematic pregnancy throughout, and I'd had a dream about his little face that night. Lisa came and drove me to the hospital, leaving Meggar with her stay-at-home neighbor. What are the chances of finding a stay-at-home neighbor these days?! My water had broken, but there was no heartbeat. Captain caught the next flight home. We named him Kendall Francis, after a friend who died in Desert Storm '92 (helicopter pilot). Kendall is buried at the foot of his great-grandparents in the Easton cemetery behind St. Joseph's of the Valley. I'm recalling all these details because Jodi lost her Michael last week, and my mom sent me a lovely website called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. Such a powerful pro-life message! This web company offers volunteer photographers who come to make a memento when your baby is lost too young. We did not get to hold our Kendall, but a caring nurse at Olathe Medical gave us his footprints--about three-quarters of an inch long. We know he joins our family prayer circle each day from heaven along with Melissa ('91) and Amelia ('93). "There is no foot so small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world."