Raiden Davis

Raiden Richard Davis came into this world on his own terms, which became the theme for his short life. He was a scheduled C-section, but decided he did not want to wait. He came 6 days early, on Friday March 25th, 2022. He was my little “big” boy, born 9lbs, 11oz. He was the youngest of 3, and the only boy.

Raiden was a ball of energy and could put a smile on your face without trying too hard!

As Raiden grew up, I was always worried he was behind on his milestones, but that was just his way. If he wasn’t ready to start eating big people food, well, he just wasn’t going to. He never wanted to be apart from his mom and dad when he slept, and he started sleeping in his room only a couple of months before he left us.

He loved his cup of milk and was rarely seen without it. He was such a stinker and if it wasn’t tied down or locked up, he was going to get into it and throw it all over the floor! When we’d start up the shower, he would hear it and come running into the bathroom to throw open the shower curtain! He’d look at you and just giggle. I can picture him holding his cup of milk in his mouth, giving me a side eye and a huge grin. He absolutely adored his big sister, Tegan. They would laugh and play and get into all kinds of trouble together. His silliness and laughter were infectious and that’s what I miss the most about my beautiful blond, blue-eyed boy.

On Tuesday, November 28th, 2023, Raiden went to daycare as he normally did. He was given lunch that day, which he ended up asphyxiating on. He was rushed to Children’s Hospital in Minneapolis, but he was without oxygen for too long. He experienced brain death and there was nothing they could do. We were never going to hold him again; never going to hear his laugh; never going to see him reach all of the milestones a little boy is supposed to reach. He wasn’t even fully talking yet, so we will never hear him actually speak. Our hearts were instantly broken. He was only 20 months old.

Raiden was able to save 3 with his organs and help at least one other, that we know of, with his tissue. This boy became our superhero the instant those elevator doors closed as he went down to surgery.

We miss you, Bubba!