Two years ago, at 8:29am, Miles Giovanni DiGiannantonio came into this world crying softly. The day he was born was the happiest day of my life. He was my proudest accomplishment, and his miraculous story was the greatest part of my identity. There wasn’t a day that I didn’t give thanks for our miracle baby. He was the best.
When Miles was in the hospital, one of the ways I would cope was to try to visualize what his second birthday party was going to be like. I even ordered a bounce house from his room in the ICU. The weeks and days leading up to this day—knowing that we’d have to get through his birthday without him—have been excruciating. There isn’t a word for the feeling of ordering Toy Story birthday decorations on Amazon for your son who won’t be there to see them. Or making him a cake that he won’t get to taste.
I haven’t been on social media at all, but I signed on today because one of my biggest fears is that Miles will be forgotten. Very few people got to meet him. No one got to see him yelling at the blender, running at the park after Emerson with his belly leading the way, reaching on his tiptoes to turn off the washing machine, or stopping everything for Mickey’s Clubhouse or CoCoMelon. I tried to write about Miles’ smell the other day, and it crushed me. I was devastated by the idea of forgetting any of the small and wonderful details about that perfect little boy.
Someone shared with me that I will want to keep going without Miles here because if I don't, who will let others know that he lived and that he mattered? Keeping Miles’ memory alive is the one thing I hold onto, and this platform is the best way I know how to share about Miles.
If you are a close friend or family member, more than anything, I would love for you to ask me about Miles…ask us to show you pictures or tell you what he was like.
In one effort to honor Miles’ memory, Mike and I created an endowed fund to support recovering kids at Mott Children’s Hospital so that they can go to Camp Michigania with their families. It is named the Miles DiGiannantonio Fighting Spirit Memorial Fund. We are going for the first time this year, and we would give anything to have Miles there with us. How he would have LOVED summertime in Northern Michigan.
In the inspiration statement for the gift, we wrote that we hoped it would be a way to reward other children who demonstrate Miles’ fighting spirit. If the support from this fund helps children and their families heal and see the world in a way Miles never could, then he will share in some small part of their experiences, and the miracle of Baby Miles will live forever.
To all of you who have already donated to Miles’ fund, or supported us in a multitude of other generous and kind ways, thank you sincerely. I apologize that we are slow in our official thank-yous. Thank you, too, for taking the time to read about Miles today, to cheers him at dinner tonight, and to wish him a happy birthday in heaven. I know he’s got a friend singing to him.
Happy Birthday, my dear Miles, our sweet feisty angel…I love you forever.
